Dirty Law

“Your name is Law? As in, follow and obey the? Uphold and honor the?”

Law grinned. “I guess you could look at it that way.”

I folded my arms across my chest. Enigmatic, enraging, and probably rotten like him’s name was Law?

I loved it.

I glared at Law and continued down the road, yelling over my shoulder, “I hate it.”

Law took me to a 24-hour pub that sold southern classics like chicken and waffles with the drinks in mason jars. I’d heard of the place before, but I’d thought it had closed up shop. It was actually quite delicious, but I wasn’t going to give Law anything, even something as small as choosing a good restaurant.

When we left his house, I tried to lose Law. I didn’t try running, because that would have been too obvious. I told Law I knew of a “really good place, right around the corner”. He seemed suspicious, but let me lead nonetheless. My plan was to take him to the convenience store and lose him in the aisles, disappearing out back.

It was like he fucking knew what I was thinking. When we arrived at the store he said, “This is the great place?” I told him I needed to use the bathroom first. When I went to the back, sidestepping the restroom for the back exit, he was waiting for me outside. Leaning so lackadaisically against the dirty concrete wall, it was as if he’d been reading a book.

“Can we go now?” he asked, bored. Snow had started falling, the white flakes landing on Law as if in agreement with God himself. I ignored how beautiful the flakes looked resting on Law’s thick lashes, instead opting to glare.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said.

“Look, I’m hungry, you’re hungry, and I actually do know of a good place only a couple of blocks downtown.” My fists curled, ready to fight, when Law said, “Yeah, yeah. You have a gun and I should be scared.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the neon lit door at my back. I jerked my hand back.

“If I go with you will you leave me alone from now on?” I attempted to wager.

He seemed to mull that over. “If you decide that you want me to leave you alone, sure.”

I laughed. “Like I would decide anything else.” Law reached for my hand again and I folded my arms. “Tell me where we’re going.”

“The Bell Jar.”

I narrowed my eyes at his response. “That closed.” My bullshit meter was perking up. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I was beginning to trust Law, but I was beginning to think he didn’t outright want to do me harm. The minute he said we were going to The Bell Jar, though, that changed.

The Bell Jar was closed. Why would he be taking me somewhere closed?

Law sighed and the movement drew my eyes to his chest. He was wearing a wool pea coat, the buttons str

aining against his hard mass. “No, it’s not. It closed for two months and it reopened with new management. I’m beginning to think you aren’t worth this much trouble.”

I pounced on that. “Good! You should go with that. I’m not worth this much trouble.”

“I said beginning to. Come on now, let’s go before all the good beer is drunk.” Law skipped off down the street. I watched him walk, his tall form almost cheerful. He was definitely an enigma. One minute intense and brooding, the next skipping down the deserted downtown streets of Salt Lake City.

Part of me wished he would slip on the newly fallen snow and die.

The other part…well, I was ignoring the other part.

I didn’t trust him, but he was starting to captivate me. Law was getting inside my head, making me want to understand him. I shook that off. There was only room for one man inside my head, and he held that spot.

Unfortunately.

“So whose house were you spying on?” Law asked, taking a gulp of beer from his mason jar.

“I’m surprised you’re pretending you don’t know,” I mumbled, poking at my chicken and waffles sans chicken. Law, after all, was working with him. Even though I was only eating with Law so he wouldn’t immediately give me up to him, I still felt like I was walking a dangerous and fraying tightrope.

Was Law playing with me like a cat does a mouse?

“What was that?” Law asked, wiping beer from his mouth. I watched, fascinated, as his hand scratched across his five o’clock shadow. Law seemed so carefree, drinking beer, enjoying chicken and waffles. His hazel eyes gleamed as he talked to me.

Did he not walk the tightrope? Did he not think about him?