“The Bay Leaves owe you a favor. I hate owing favors. So if you need anything, say: someone killed, let us know and we’ll do it for free. Or at a heavy discount.”

“Oh, I’m sure I won’t need anything like that,” Hazel says.

“Don’t be so sure. Around here, a bullet to the head solves a LOT of problems. And if Holly here gives you any grief, let me know and I’ll smack her around. I raised her to have some manners.” I flip my middle finger at her. “See? A woman of sophistication.” Witch-Hazel laughs a bit.

“You’ll be the first to know,” she replies.

‘Great, last thing I need is these two ganging up on me.’

“Holly, here.” Tamara opens another drawer and takes out a roll of hundreds. She tosses it to me. “That should be about 10k. I want you to lay low for a while, and you should have some change in your pocket.” She nods to Hazel. “Take her somewhere nice when this is over.” Tamara opens her laptop and that’s our cue to leave.

“Thanks,” I say. “I will.” I hold the door open for Hazel.

“Hold up,” Tamara says. I hear keys flying through the air and catch them. “Take the green car, it’s too hot to be walking.”

I nod, “I appreciate it, Tamara.”

“Of course, I need my workers at their best. Dying of heatstroke prevents that,” she replies.

There are many things I’m thankful for when it comes to Tamara. She found me in that hellhole, taught me to survive, gave me a roof over my head, a cool tattoo, and a crew to rely on. But the thing I’m most grateful for is that she never did that creepy thing where she pretends we’re all family. She may have raised many of us, but she doesn’t act like she’s our mom. We’re investments and every job we complete are her efforts paying off. She could’ve, but I think having that aspect of honesty is what makes us so loyal. Clarity is a luxury in our world, so we all flock to her.

Tamara dismisses me with a wave, getting back to whatever it is that runs this operation.

I lead Witch-Hazel to the parking lot, which she desperately wanted to see for some reason.

“Your leader is an interesting woman.”

“Yeah, that’s a word you could use,” I remark. I’m about to crack another joke when I see a bizarre sight; three dudes who aren’t Bay Leaves hanging out in our parking lot. They gotta be drunk, high, dumb, or some combination of the three. Because no one in their right mind would be chilling here. They take notice of us, well, they notice Witch-Hazel since she’s wearing a big puffy dress and looks like a model.

“Damn, girl. You lookin’ real fine. Hotter than this weather,” one of them says.

“Wanna have a real good time with us?” Before the next stupid idiot says the next stupid thing, I interject.

“Do you guys know where you are right now? Or who you’re talking to?” One of them sucks his teeth.

“Ain’t no one talkin’ to you, with your busted up face.” As much as I want to cave in their skulls, I have much bigger fish to fry. These dickheads will have to get taught a lesson by someone with time on their hands.

“Yo baby, do the carpets match the drapes?” One of them has the nerve to say. I briefly wondered the same thing but I didn’t ask like an asshole. Witch-Hazel, who doesn’t know she’s being hit on, turns to me.

“What does that mean?”

‘Oh boy.’

“I’ll explain later.”

‘Probably not.’

“Look,” I address the trio of wasted carbon. “Don’t y’all have some other parking lot to disappoint your mothers and all of mankind in?”

“You want another black eye?” One of them puffs out his chest.

That’s it: saying something gross to Witch-Hazel, and threatening me is all it takes to convince me that these guys deserve the ass-whooping I’m about to give them.

Fighting three people, even when you aren’t sore and very tired, isn’t a good idea. But if you do have to, and I really do, you have to control the pace of your opponents.

“Can I see your belt?” I ask him. I find that in situations like this people are more likely to listen to odd requests. I don’t know why but they are and this guy is no exception. He takes off his belt and hands it to me. “Thanks.” I take a second before I whip it straight into his face, hitting him in the eye. He yells out in pain and holds his face.

“That’ll teach you to keep your eyes to yourself.” Then I notice blood dripping between his fingers. I look at the belt and realize I grabbed the wrong end and hit him with the buckle part. It’s not what I meant to do but it’s already done.

“Guess now you’ll really have to,” I say. His companions don’t absorb the message that I’m not to be fucked with from this minor display of unintended violence. They rush at me; I sidestep one of them, wrapping the belt around his arm. I step forward and pull, hearing the familiar POP! that lets me know I dislocated his shoulder. As he screams out in agony his other friend comes at me from the side. I kick his legs from under him, as he falls I bring my elbow to his face. When I turn around to ready my next attacks, I see Witch-Hazel calmly watching. With her hands behind her back, like she might intervene.

I unwrap the belt, use it to pull the same guy’s neck and slam my knee into his face. He falls back like a bag of bricks. The guy I just elbowed gets to his feet. He takes a boxer’s stance and tries to jab at me. I lean out of the way, hook my arm across his chest, and with all my force clothesline him onto the hot asphalt.

Surprisingly, the guy with the bleeding eye stands up. He pulls out a butterfly knife and points it at me.

“Really? You want to lose your other eye?” He tries to stab me in the gut, but thanks to his recently compromised eyesight he doesn’t come close. I grab and twist his wrist, he bends down to one knee. I aim the knife in his hand right at his good eye.

“I think we can both agree this isn’t how we wanted this interaction to go,” I say to him. He nods. “I bet this morning you thought you’d have two eyes by the end of this day.” Again he nods. “Now look, I have more important things to do than kill motherfuckers like you in parking lots.” I lean in closer and whisper “you’re only alive cuz I don’t want to kill in front of her. So consider yourself extremely lucky a bloody eye is all you’re getting away with.” He nods rapidly. I let go of his wrist, kick him in the chest, and throw his belt back on him.

I look around at my handiwork.

‘Could’ve been better.’

“C’mon Hazel.” She steps over the men and walks next to me. We get to the car Tamara lent me, it’s an awful green car. Low profile like everything else in the lot. We get in, I start the car and immediately turn on the A/C. Hazel is looking at me but isn’t saying anything.

“Yes?” I ask.

“Did you have to use such force?” She asks with more curiosity than I’d thought she would.

“Yes. And they got lucky, I’m still sore. Otherwise they really would’ve got it.” She stares at me for a bit.

“Okay,” she says, seemingly satisfied with my answer. Hazel leans back in the seat and lets the A/C cool off her skin.

‘She’s so...accepting.’ I pull out of the space and head to the road. In what is the least illegal thing I’ve done all day I pull out my phone and call Digitalis.

“Hey, Digit. There’s three assholes in our parking lot and someone beat the shit outta ‘em. One is missing an eye, another has a dislocated shoulder, the last guy might have some broken ribs I dunno.”

“Was that someone you?” Digit asks.

“Yes. Look either help them or kill them, really it’s up to you.”

“We’ll see. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hang up the phone.

“Where are we going now?” Hazel asks, not minding the last bit of my brief conversation.

“Somewhere...safe,” I answer.

It takes about 40 minutes to arrive. An apartment complex in the “nicer” part of Oleander City. We take the elevator to the 5th floor and I lead the way to room 546.

“After you.” I hold the door open for her. She enters and takes a look around. I kick off my boots and touch a switch that activates the A/C in here.

“What is this place?” She asks.

“This is my home.” I gesture around. “Welcome.” Her face lights up at the revelation, a wide smile springs forth. “It’s not much but you were living in a shithole.”

“True,” she replies.

“So if you ever wanna come over or something then-”

“Great! I’ll move in right away!”

‘Move in?’ Before I can say anything Witch-Hazel pulls out that strange necklace I saw before and chants something. In an instant, a bright light flashes and when it fades, all of Hazel’s stuff is here in my living room. She claps with joy and starts moving things around. I was inviting her to come over anytime, not move in with me. But now she’s got all her stuff and she looks so happy to be here that I can’t in good conscience tell her to move back to that abandoned apartment. So I guess she’s living with me now.

‘Thing change indeed.’

Chapter 3 End.