Chapter Thirty Six
At his desk, a few nuts and screws rolling along, Ronnie was tinkering with his prosthetic middle finger. On his bed, laying down, was Cyri. It has been about a week sense she became the last person that Vincent spoke to before she moved, and she has sense fallen under a spell of loneliness and sorrow.
“I can already tell what you are thinking.” Ronnie said, looking up. “And from experience, being sad about it will not help at all.”
“But it sure as hell helps.” She rolled over on her side, looking at him.
“In all actuality young Cyri, it does not.” He put down his prosthetic and looked at her. “In fact, it makes things worse. Now, I know that he was your first true boyfriend, but look at it like this: He is still with you. Just long distance.”
“Yeah, but what if he meets another girl in Idaho and falls for her?”
“To be honest, I doubt it. But, if he does, then he is a complete fool.” He leaned back on his chair. “Actually, did he say what he plans to do in Idaho?”
“Well,” she sat up, crossed legged. “to be honest, I do not know. He did not say anything to me. That man is in his own world in his head. But, him and I will be keeping in contact a lot until he finds away to get back here. His return. That is something I doubt.”
“Never doubt anything like that.” Ronnie said, taking a gulp of a drink that was on his desk. “Our entire group of friends is formed around doubters. Doubters who doubted that they could do anything to change the world in which they live in. Look at them all now: They proved themselves wrong.”
“I see your point.” Cyri laid back down on the be, staring at the ceiling. “When Vincent talked to everyone before he left, giving us jobs to undertake in his abscense, what did he tell you to do?”
“Security.” Ronnie grabbed his prosthetic thumb and cliped it back on. “Basically, he wants me along with Job to protect you to make sure nothing happens.”
“Like what?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?”
“I'm just screwing with you. Lighten up a bit.” They were silent for a few more moments until Cyri's phone started buzzing. She took it out, flipped it on, and saw that she had a text message.
“Who is it, if you do not mind me asking?” Ronnie looked at her.
“It says it is from someone named Blaze.” She opened it and saw that this is a person who loves to type. She sighed and read threw it.
Dear Miss Cyri Cullen,
It is a truly great honor to finally have some respectable contact with you but a great misfortune that we can not speak in person for the first time of proper contact. My name is Blaze. Now, you might be having numerous questions flowing threw your mind right about now and I might have any to all answers you require to have. So, I will answer a few here. The first time we meet was when me and my two friends ambushed you a little while back. I remember your face well, seeing as how one does not forget the face of someone who was hiding under a bench with yellow light coming out of lampposts. As to how I got your number, it will become clear when we decide to meet. Now, me being the man I am, I will say that tomorrow at around noon, I want you to meet me at that old, rusted down coffee shop near Denver High School. I would like to actually meet you sense what I have to discuss does have some relation to a certain person we both know that has, as of recently, moved away due to the violence level here. But before we meet, I want you to be aware of a few things. The first being that I do not care if you bring anyone with you when we talk. The second is that any and all questions you might have in result of Mr. Vincent GesuDio will be answered during out meeting. This is all I can say for now. I do hope that we can become such wonderful friends. How you will know if it is me if I do not see you first, I have a rather odd tattoo on my right hand. A picture of said tattoo is clipped onto this text.
Until we speak again,
Blaze Bachman.
Cyri, and now Ronnie, sat staring at the tiny screen for some time. Ronnie was shocked that this 'Blaze' had even found out about her number. Cyri was shocked that they actually want to meet.
“What are you going to do?” Ronnie said, looking up at her.
“What he wants. I will be dining with this Blaze Bachman.” She closed her cell phone.
“I am going to call Job -” Ronnie began to say.
“Don't.” Cyri ordered him. “Obviously he must be wanting to know how much we trust him. And him seeing me with two body guards would automatically be a signal that there is no trust. I do not want anymore violence, but sense he had already attacked me once, I do not know if I can trust him again. So, this is what I will do: Tomorrow when I meet him, I will set my phone on record and record everything that is said between him and I.”
“You sure about this?” Ronnie asked, looking at her.
“Wicked sure.” Cyri responded.
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