3 a.m. (Henry Bins 1) by Nick Pirog Read Free Book Online Page B

every troop
had been pulled from the Middle East.
    Jessica Renoix and the President
are front and center. Jessica is petite and of medium
height. Though she must have been barely out of high school, her
confident eyes and wry smile speak to a girl who is not naive about
the realities of the world. The President is wearing a crisp blue
shirt under a black blazer. He towers over her, his right arm
draped over her shoulder. There is nothing overtly sexual about the
pose and if anything, the contact appears fatherly. I surmise that
any of the other fifteen volunteers could just have easily been in
Jessica's place.
    I spend the rest of my forty-five minutes in
bed, scouring the internet for more information on
Jessica Renoix.
    I find very little.
     
    …
     
    It's ten minutes into my day, when I
scroll down to Ray's telephone number and nearly hit the Call
button, then decide against it. I want to know more about
Jessica Renoix before I talk to the detective.
    I log onto the Internet and find a company
that does background checks. I fill in all the information I have
on Jessica Renoix; a six-year-old address and a long
out-of-service telephone number, then pay the nearly two hundred
dollars for the rush job.
    “ Well, now I guess we just
wait,” I say to Lassie, who is lick-eating his breakfast. In
forty-eight hours, he has made a near full recovery.
    Meow.
    “ You would think you would
care more. This is your mother we're talking about.”
    Meow.
    “ Yes, living with me is
awesome, but still.”
    Meow.
    “ Candy? What kind of
candy?”
    Meow.
    “ Dude, Twix is a
cookie.”
    We argue about this for another minute, then
I open the door to the balcony and he goes to his mound and takes
care of business. The fresh air feels wonderful and I decide I am
going running outside.
    Goons be damned. 
    There is a brown box on the kitchen table
with an Amazon sticker. It had come two days earlier, but I'd yet
to open it.
    A minute later, I'm holding the strongest
Taser on the market.
    I shake it at Lassie.
“Next time you go pee-pee on the carpet, zap, 4000 volts
buddy.” 

    He laughs.
    I pull on my beanie, slip on my running
shoes, and open the front door. Lassie sticks his head out, surveys
the hall, then slinks back in. If I'd gotten over my
little scare, Lassie was yet to get over his.
    “ I guess we'll have to get
you a Taser too.”
    Meow.
    “ No, I'm not getting you a
knife.”
    Meow.
    “ We'll discuss this when I
get back.”
    After running on the treadmill for close to
week, I forget how amazing the air tastes. I decide to take a
different route and head north toward Summer Park. I've already
thought of escape routes, should the need arise. The stun gun is in
my right hand, cranked on high.
    I sweep the perimeter as I run. No signs of
life. I try to remain on alert, but my mind continually drifts. I
try to move past her, but she keeps popping back into my thoughts.
Not Callie Freig. Not Jessica Renoix. Detective Ray. Her
auburn hair, her crooked smile, how she would stare at me when she
thought I was a murderer. I try to configure what her body is
shaped like beneath those jeans and bulky sweatshirts.  What
sounds she might make. How her nipples would respond to my teasing
tongue.
    Bright lights.
    Two sets.
    Escape Route D.
    I dart across the street. There is a ditch
and I jump down into the water, then crawl up the embankment and
enter Summer Park.
    I head for the darkened tennis courts to my
left. I crash through the chain-link gate, hurdle the
net, then start on the 18-foot fence enclosing the two
courts. I turn and look over my shoulder. Three guys have entered
the court. They are all wearing black. They have guns. I wonder why
they don't shoot. As I sweep my leg over the top of the chain-link,
all three hit the fence and shake it for all it's worth. Somehow
I'm able to hold on, then hop down the last ten feet.
    I look through the fence at them. They could
be Navy Seals for all I know. 
    “