I had only been on Facebook for a couple of years, but I started enjoying seeing the day to day of my friends’ lives and sharing in that, though sometimes I felt left out and longed for deeper connection. Feeling nostalgic, I had looked up a few names from my past, old friends I still emailed, so it only made sense to go on social media and try to catch up with them. I hadn’t really thought about looking up old boyfriends, especially him, until recently. That is why I was surprised to have looked for him. But I did. I’m not sure why I wanted to let this resurface in my mind. I guess I was curious. What else could it be?
The camera light was off. I felt safe at the moment to think my secret thoughts. I cozied up in the recliner, unwinding after a day of being a cashier at the convenience store. I guess when I flipped through the TV channels and saw a handsome man with almond-shaped eyes, it kind of reminded me of that FBI agent staring at me. He was really hot and clean cut too. It's not like men like that ever pay me much attention. I’m not sure why my going out on a date interested the FBI. Did it matter who I was? I just answered an ad and went on a date. It's not like I even knew who Vincens really was or what he was involved in. As a matter of fact, I still don’t. I would be collateral damage. Let’s go over what happened a little further.
On our third date, Vincens took me to a shooting range. I knew he was interested in guns, so I asked him to teach me how to shoot. I figured it might be fun, so he agreed and drove us to an indoor range at Lynnhaven. We had to give our driver’s license to the buff man, probably ex-Military, at the counter to hold onto while we were there and he asked what kind of guns we wanted. Vincens chose a Glock for the both of us. The humorless man retrieved them for us. I liked his disinterest.
Vincens led the way to the back of the building. I was a little hesitant, but wanted to learn. He went first. He lined up his shot and pulled the trigger. A hot shell skimmed past me. I guess I stood too close to him, so I backed up. He made it seem so easy. Then it was my turn. He showed me how to hold it and told me to keep steady. He also told me not to let go when it recoiled and to keep my grip.
A little nervous, I lined up my sight with the target and pulled the trigger. A bullet zoomed forward and burst near the bull’s eye. It felt good. I actually enjoyed it and I think he saw that it was something we could experience together, had we lasted as a couple.
“Good shot,” he assured me, seeming pleased. He took his turn and I started to relax and have fun. I guess guns weren’t all bad. They seemed the center of his life.
Before we left the shooting range, a cool, unreadable gaze met mine. That’s when I saw one of the agents again. It was the blond haired man from the restaurant. He stood near a variety of targets that can be chosen, such as for shooting zombies or other designs like that of dictators, though the man didn’t seem to be searching for anything in particular. When our eyes met, I released a small gasp of surprise. I’m sure he didn’t miss that with his training. He seemed cocky, almost like a bully. I should have hated him. I really have no sense, because I had a hard time looking away. Was he just following Vincens or did I fit anywhere as a target? Did dating him make me a target? Vincens didn’t acknowledge the agent and I didn’t mention it, so I just followed him out to the car. I’m not sure how long I could have gone on like this. It wasn’t normal, but I was afraid to bring it up in conversation. I didn’t want it to be real.
I wonder if the FBI. were aware that I looked Vincens up after all these years. I’m sure someone saw. Would they be monitoring him after all this time? Or monitoring me? Did they question my intent? Or did they think that I was just curious? It seemed absurd after all of this time.
Let’s return to my story. Maybe I’ll see something I might have missed back then. This is how it unfolded:
On the way home after going out for coffee a couple weeks later, Vincens was driving me home on a dark stretch of road. Without emotion, he casually told me he shot a man in the kneecaps. He didn’t elaborate on it and I didn’t ask questions. Instead, I sat frozen, unable to speak. I needed a moment to let that sink in, so I stared out the car window. I just felt really, really sad more than scared. I’m sure I didn’t want to hear what he was trying to tell me. He read my shock and explained that he had to flip and become a C.I. to stay out of jail and raise his child. My stomach felt queasy. I’m not sure how he thought I’d receive the news, but I felt so much insidiousness was oozing out of the silence of his crimes and I wanted no part in it. I’m sure he sensed it was over between us, just as I did. His shadow hung over me, darkening and sucking the breath out of me. This wasn’t some game. The history of violence and death was real. This wasn’t included in his ad and I felt duped. I didn’t want any of this and never wanted any of it to enter into my life. Even his demeanor had gotten shadier. Sex got rougher. When he walked toward me in his black Converse, it was like they whispered, “Assassin.” And I didn’t want to die.
It was difficult reliving that day in my memory. I tried to forget about him and I did for a short time. These awakened memories troubled me. I needed air. I couldn’t breathe. It was as if a tight band squeezed my chest. Making my way to the kitchen, I filled a cup with water with a shaky hand and took several small sips. Although I had liked being on the edge of danger, I realized there was a very real monster within him and I didn’t want to see how horrible it got, the more it revealed itself to me. My head began to ache. These memories really weighed on me and I leaned against the wall for support. I think I’m okay. Let’s continue:
Not long after I broke up with him, I went jogging by my home. I had grown up near this street, so I felt safe and at home here, even though I passed an overgrown cemetery and some houses in bad repair. Nonetheless, being outside in the sunshine helped me relieve stress and the fatigue from running kept me too tired to feel much about what transpired.
The dogwood trees along the route were blooming and I tried to stay upbeat. When I was returning from my run, I stopped to tie one of my sneakers and then I continued along the sidewalk along the two-lane road, when a car pulled up next to me, stopped and popped the trunk. It was like I foresaw what his intentions were in my mind’s eye. As soon as it started slowing down, I sensed something was wrong and I took off running in the direction toward a fast food place or anywhere more public where I’d be safer. When I glanced back over my shoulder is when I noticed that the trunk was open. I tried to tell myself that maybe it had randomly come open and that it is why he stopped. Perhaps, he just needed to close it, but he didn’t step out of his car yet. I couldn’t see who was driving. Not knowing who it was made me question if it was him or someone associated with him, though it wasn’t his Audi. What if his motive was something deadly? Maybe he took the breakup harder than I did. Maybe he didn’t like being rejected. Did Vincens hire someone to kidnap me? Would he really have someone kill me or was it someone in the government? Maybe my imagination was getting the best of me and I’m paranoid.
I returned home and grabbed a towel to pat the sweat on my face and chest. Then I removed my pink top and jogging pants, deciding that my running days would be sidelined for the foreseeable future, especially when I questioned my safety. I made sure my door was locked and I kept away from the windows. Each time the phone rang, I jumped, though I had no proof that Vincens would come after me.
A little over a week later, I ventured out for a short walk. I didn’t want to feel caged. I also wanted to see if I had anything to worry about. There was. An FBI vehicle almost ran me over. At least, it looked like a black Suburban. Maybe I was again making a mountain out of a molehill, but two questionable incidents happened close together. What was I supposed to think? The vehicle made a quick U-turn and sped up toward me and onto the curb. Luckily, I sprinted out of the way. I didn’t look back, just kept running until I got home. Maybe it was a warning to stay out of Vincens’ business and to not repeat what little I knew.
I played it again in my mind, wondering if I misread the situation. At first, I was just walking toward the convenience store and planned to head back after I picked up a coffee. That’s when I saw a black car. Maybe it was a sixth sense, but my attention was drawn to it for some reason. There were two men inside and I locked eyes with one. It happened so fast that I didn’t get a lot of details. He seemed thirtish with trimmed facial hair and kind of muscular. After we made eye contact, he started making a U-turn to come on the other side of the street toward me. It seemed intentional because it wasn’t a casual glance. It was like he recognized me or got his attention for some reason. I got cold vibes. That’s when I started walking faster and he sped up, so I started running. Tires squealed as he came up on the curb behind me, where I had been standing, though I darted like a deer in the face of death. It seemed too intentional.
I didn’t turn back to see what he’d do next. I didn’t want it to be real. I couldn’t face it, so I kept going toward home. My muscles strained from the fast pace and I couldn’t catch my breath. I just hope I'll survive. Once I reached my house, I hurried inside and locked the door. I checked the peep hole. He didn’t seem to come after me. Maybe there were too many witnesses. Was he really trying to run me over or was he going to pull me into the car and take me downtown to interrogate? The problem was that I didn’t know anything and I didn’t like the unanswered questions. In truth, I didn’t feel like I did anything wrong, so why would I be a target? I didn’t know anything worth killing me over.
I was very stupid, I reminded myself. I should have never gotten involved with Vincens or whatever game he was playing. Was he really an informant for the F.B.I. or did he just pretend to be? Did they now want to take me out? Maybe I’d ruin whatever cover they built up with him and they weren’t happy about it. Maybe it was a warning. I had better take note. I wasn’t planning on ever mentioning what Vincens told me. I’m not sure what else they thought he had confided in me.
My husband and I were still separated at the time. I guess I destroyed the last of our relationship, though to be honest, I had gotten tired of his cheating on me. After a decade of heartache, I sought out company of my own to fill the void. Instead, I got pulled into an abyss housing more monsters.
Still, there was something about the way one of the agents stared at me. It was addictive like the sweetest sugar that is bad for you and yet you find yourself craving its taste. I should have kept my attention straight ahead, and yet I combed the shadows. I had no doubt they weren’t empty. Maybe I liked him because he was a blank slate. I could make him what I wanted him to be and that was better than any disappointing truth. It was a thrill in an otherwise bleak and disappointing life. I kind of liked either of them. I imagined that they had stable lives and a happy family. I guess I wished I had something like that.
Another time, a black Suburban slowly drove by my house as I checked my mail. I ducked down slightly to peer into the passenger’s window as he passed by, but the windows were slightly tinted and I couldn’t see much. I thought the figure looked a little like the blond agent. Maybe it was my imagination getting the best of me. As time went on the paranoia lessened. I realized maybe no one was after me. Still, I’d like some answers. I just didn’t want to talk to those who were in the position to give them, so I went about my routine and let time pass by until this all settled into the past or so I thought.