Chapter 8 Continued

“No fuckin’ way am I related to that asshole,” Breaker states. 

“But, how is that possible?” I ask.

“I don’t know, and to be frank, it’s messing with my head as well to have some sort of dead clone in the trunk,” Breaker grumbles.

“He’s in the trunk?” I choke out. Breaker gives me a sideways glance, the exasperated, somewhat sheepish look on his face telling me everything I need to know. “You have Billy in the fucking trunk?!” I shout again. “Jesus Christ, this is messed up.”

“What else was I going to do with him? I couldn’t just leave him there,” Breaker looks at me, and he kinda has a point. 

“I wondered what that smell was. I thought it was you,” I admit. Breaker gives me a startled look before breaking into deep, rich laughter, and something about the sound heats me from the inside out.

Honestly, as fucked up as it is, who gives a shit about Billy. If I think about it, he deserves it. 

“Oh, did you indeed,” Breaker smiles at me. 

"Then how do you know me?" I demand, my heart pounding as I try to piece this puzzle together.

"Before your accident," he begins hesitantly, "we knew each other. Let’s just say we were close."

"Close?" My chest tightens at the thought, “How close?” 

"Very close," he confirms softly, his eyes flicking to meet mine briefly.

“How did we meet?” I ask. This is becoming intriguing now. 

“A bar in Chicago. Not the nicest of joints, but people tend to gravitate to the places they belong,” he tells me. 

“Did our eyes meet across a crowded room?” I playfully ask him.

“Something like that,” Breaker laughs, and I blush, thinking about what he might know that I don’t. 

We slide off the highway and melt into the traffic of the city. 

“If you take a left up here, then the second right,” I start to guide him towards my apartment. 

As we speed through the dark streets, the flashing lights of the city blur outside my window. I can't help but wonder if I’m making a mistake in bringing this stranger back to my apartment. But for now, all I can do is hold on tight and hope that, somehow, he’s telling the truth that will help me find mine. 

The lights of the city flash across Breaker’s face, his jaw tense with determination. 

“So, if I had an accident, why didn’t you come to see me?” I ask him. 

“I couldn’t, but believe me, I would have if I could have,” he says with a disappointed and regretful tone. 

“Take the next left,” I say as I try to take in what he’s telling me. 

Breaker swallows hard, staring straight ahead. "Something went wrong. You were supposed to be protected, and things got complicated."

"Complicated how?" I press him, hoping to get some answers. 

"Let's focus on getting off the streets, alright?" He deflects, his gaze darting around the streets as we pass through.

“Next block,” I tell. 

We pass over the intersection into my street. It feels great to be so close to home.

“Fuck,” Breaker suddenly says, “Stay low,” he tells me as I immediately sink low in my seat. 

“What’s happening? That’s my apartment block there,” I say. 

Breaker ignores me, his eyes dead ahead and posture rigid. 

“We have to go back,” I say, confused about what is going on. “Please, I want to get home.”

“I want as much as you to get off these streets, but your apartment has been compromised,” Breaker says, his voice laced with concern.