Wicked

“No rest for the wicked.” He mumbled, walking ahead of me. “No rest for the wicked.” Farther and farther ahead… He didn’t want to walk beside me that day. It was Thursday, early dismissal from school. The day of the week that he would meet me at my last class to walk together to my parent’s house. Typically, the title hump day is reserved for Wednesday’s, but that is what we called Thursday’s because it was when we had our chance to have sex in an empty house. There was a different feeling about this particular hump day though. He was acting so very strange and didn’t have any interest in sex, only in telling me over and over again that there is no rest for the wicked.

It looked as though he didn’t sleep. His eyes were bright red, he had bags under his eyes, and he wasn’t high. He was irritated, emotional, and I could sense a deep inner torment. He vaguely tried to tell me something, but with just enough scant details that I could only guess that maybe he killed someone for “Mo,” his word for money. I didn’t want to know for sure, and thankfully, he didn’t want to tell me. The words were never fully spoken so I tried all I could to deny it, to rationalize other explanations, but deep down inside, I knew the truth - I was in love with a murderer.

After that Thursday, Ryland completely changed. His status skyrocketed in the drug scene and we were quickly living large and staying high pretty much all the time. Sure, we did drugs before, but this was at another level. I’ll admit, I didn’t mind the drugs being so accessible. I had my shit going on and staying high as much as possible seemed like the best way to deal with things. I was shielded from the real hard stuff though. I was only allowed weed, coke, mushrooms and MDMA. Ryland kept opiods and meth strictly away from me, although I suspected he was doing them himself.

Our lives seemed to be travelling at light speed. People in and out, dramatic outbursts between us, friends, and family. People were dying. It seemed every second day there was another overdose. So much darkness, and yet we were having so much fun. With Ryland dealing, we were party hoppers, and I was enjoying the status of showing up by his side. Whatever he did, it had a purpose. People respected him after that. People feared him, and people went to him for their drugs. He was making a killing and I was enjoying the ride. The lifestyle was one of dreams so it was easy to forget the fact that it was all dirty money. And denial can be your very best friend when you want it to be.

I should have known that the life we were living was made possible by something more illicit than drugs, but I was completely caught up the lifestyle of designer clothes, steak dinners, and endless popularity.

It would all come crashing down at that last party when Adam pulled me aside. I knew Adam from school, but didn’t know him well. We were in English together, and I didn’t go very often. I never really thought much of him one way or another, didn’t like him, didn’t not like him. But what Adam would share with me was twisted and dark. I went from being neutral about him to hating his guts with every cell in my body. He cornered me, and locked me in a deal that I didn’t want to be in. This was not the kind of deal that was negotiated for a win-win. This was a “you can choose to lose, or you can choose to lose more” kind of deal. Adam was drunk, yet coherent. He had a calm nature, but was firm in his approach. I knew he wasn’t messing around, and I got the feeling that he didn’t really have a choice, but to deliver the news he was sharing.

“Brooke” he called me over… I thought this was going to be a fun party connection. I was wrong.

“Adam! Hi! English, right?”

“Brooke, I have to tell you something.” He sounded alarmed. “You won’t like it, and you’re probably not going to believe me, but you need to listen to me closely because your life is in danger.”

I immediately started laughing. “Woah! My life in danger? Is that the best party joke you could come up with?”

But Adam wasn’t laughing.

He kept on. “Brooke, Ryland isn’t who you think he is. He’s part of an operation with the mission to remove outliers from existence, and he’s being groomed as their next leader. They’ve brainwashed him into thinking he’s doing the right thing by assassinating their targets. He’s gone dark, he has to be stopped or more people will die.”

By that point I was convinced this was a prank. “Yeah right” I rolled my eyes and began walking away, but Adam grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“If you don’t listen to me, you will die.”

There was urgency in his voice. I paused and stared at him in disbelief. As he continued I thought for sure he must be going through a serious mental breakdown. I was scared of what he might do if I didn’t hear him out, so I stayed. And I listened.

“Ryland has a notebook full of names. I need it. Everyone on that list is an outlier, with unique skills that could be used for good or for evil. If they aren’t protected, everyone in that book will be targeted one way or another, by whoever finds them first. Some want to use them as weapons, others want them dead. I’m part of a group that’s mobilizing because we’ve lost people. For us, it’s personal. Brooke, Ryland killed my brother.”

I could see the sincerity in his eyes now, the sadness. And if this was all true, I needed to know why my life was in danger.

So I humored him and I asked, “Okay, if what you say is true, how does this affect me? Why would I be in danger?”

Adam sighed then slowly began to explain the conundrum that I was in.

“We want you on our side. Actually, we have to have you on our side, and I hate to do things this way, but this is too important. You have a choice - either kill Ryland and get the notebook, or we will kill you. It’s as simple as that. Garth, our leader, has already hacked your bank account to pay you for your hit. It’s so you can flee the city, you won’t be able to stay after you kill him. Consider it just a first paycheck.”

I stared at him in confusion. “Why the hell do you need me?”

“You have access to him and his place. He loves you and you’re the only person that he lets his guard down for. And now that I’ve told you all this, I can’t risk you telling him it’s me who wants him dead, or my life is on the line. See how this works?”

I looked at him in disgust. I hated him then, and couldn’t wait to get away from him. Thankfully he was done talking and I made my way to the bathroom.

As I walked away he said one more thing: “check your bank account Brooke, you’ll see.”

Once I was alone in the bathroom, I pulled out my phone and went straight to my mobile banking app. Thank god for fingerprint passwords… I hadn’t checked in a while, no reason to. Ryland paid for everything I wanted and it was always in cash. Once I got into my account, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It really wasn’t a joke and everything Adam said suddenly became real. My account balance was $20,014 in BLACK. $20,000 added to the $14 I already had.

I had to vomit.

The rest of the night was a blur. I remember being grateful that Ryland was too fucked up to notice the gigantic weight on my mind and the change in my behavior. I have never been more confused about right and wrong. I still wanted to believe that he couldn’t kill anyone, but if what Adam said was true, then he really was a murderer. The truth didn’t matter anyway, because my truth now was that our lives were at odds with each other. This was all too much, but thankfully my parents put me in those stupid drama classes I hated because those acting skills sure came in handy.

I smoothly requested to stay over that night. “Babe, can I stay at your place tonight? My parents will totally freak if I come home at this time. I’d rather wait till tomorrow to deal with them.”

“Yeah of course babe, I love it when you stay” and he kissed me on the forehead. My insides were screaming. I was totally in love with him in that moment and I couldn’t imagine killing him. I tell myself this must be a nightmare and I’m sleeping.

But my logical mind knew that if I stayed, I’d eventually be left alone in his condo and have a chance to search. I knew most of his hiding spots for drugs, and figured if this notebook was real, I’d find it in one of his stashes.

I was right.

He got a call around 1 pm for a drop off. Someone needed some weed. He kissed me and told me he’d be right back. At this time of day, I gauged he would probably get another call while out so figured I had about an hour, maybe two. Frantic, I went one by one to the hiding spots I knew about and in the 4th spot, there it was. A little black notebook with a list of names, some of them crossed off. And beside them numbers… $20K written beside each one. My stomach sank. All the money I had been enjoying wasn’t drug money after all. It was hit money and now in this moment, my hands were already dirty. And there was $20,000 sitting in my own account in exchange for his life.

To be clear, I didn’t care about the money. I would never kill someone for any amount of money, but I suppose Adam and whoever Garth was knew that ahead of time and that’s why they put my life on the line…. I wouldn’t kill for money, but I would kill to survive.

After finding the notebook, I knew what I had to do. I felt it through to my bones, and I convinced myself it was the right thing to do. So I carefully pulled out Ryland’s handgun. Loaded it, just like he taught me, and attached the silencer that I found beside it. I pointed it at the door and I waited. At around 2:30, I heard the keys jangle and could feel the sweat bead down my face. All the feelings I had for him rushed quickly through my mind. But then, in a split second my body felt cold and emotionless, like I was about to die too. The door opened and I pulled the trigger. It hit his thigh. He looked up in horror and I pulled the trigger again, hitting his chest.

He slumped down and used his last breath to say the words “I love you.”

With the gun in my hand, I curled into a ball on the floor and cried. I thought maybe I should kill myself too. Suddenly I was confused again. This didn’t seem right. What have I done? Did I really not have a choice? Ryland’s words from that one Thursday kept repeating in my head over and over again.

“No rest for the wicked.”