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b-afterhours · 8 months

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Avenue of Sins (part ten)

SUMMARY: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.

WARNINGS: adult content, mature readers only.

if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.

series playlist

Author's Note: It's been a long time and I apologize for that completely. I guess, there was a massive part of me that didn't want to let these characters go. But enough time has passed and it's finally time. If you choose to finish this little story of mine after all this time, thank you so much! Cheers. (An epilogue should follow shortly.)

Special thanks to @soohaaaleemeee for the encouragement ♡

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Bill swayed, stumbling the same way he would when he met the bottom of a bottle of Jim Beam, he caught his step after being pushed off center by Alma. Once on even footing he stood there, the sound of the slamming door in his face was still fresh, ringing in his ears along with the thumping bass of the DJ’s speakers. He lifted a booted foot from the floor for only a moment before setting it back down, straining against the need to go after Alma. To tell her he was sorry, but no. This was in his plan. He had been rehearsing this in his head for weeks and he had to perfectly execute the mental bullet list he had made for this very night. Once again, he plucked a cigarette from his diminishing pack and tossed it to the coffee table to his right. Lighting it, he looked out the floor-to-ceiling two-way mirrors toward the stage and saw a bare-chested Chastity lightly coming to her feet from a perfect spin around the pole. This was her last dance of the night meaning there were only a handful of dancers left with the night’s finale ending with Cooch. Taking a glance at his wristwatch he saw that there was still an hour and a half before the club closed. He felt his original plans changing as time felt it was closing in on him suddenly.

As he puffed away at his cigarette, he realized that he had to have Craig meet in his loft a bit before closing. He figured it’d be too weird to have him stay behind considering he wasn’t part of the group who stayed after hours. He didn’t think that part through enough. He had missed some finer details, dwelling too much on how to get Alma out of the picture. Although he was successful at getting rid of her, he was now stuck deliberating on how he could fix what he had done rather than the task at hand. She was right, right about a lot of things but he couldn’t admit to that. He imagined going back home alone, finding it empty, void of Alma’s presence that he loved being around so much. It pained him to think about but also he felt he deserved it. He couldn’t imagine she’d see him the same after their confrontation, much less be around someone who she thought didn’t love her.

He took a deep drag of his cigarette as he approached the cabinet near the back of the loft. That, not only housed his weathered leather moto jacket – of which he rummaged the inner pocket for a three-ounce bag – but also provided a cover for his secret cash safe. The three-ounce stash of cocaine was cut from the kilo Alvin had recently delivered two weeks earlier than usual to keep up with demand. Bringing it over to his desk and taking a seat he produced from a drawer the mirror tray Myrna would use to roll her joints on. He sliced the bag open with the switchblade he kept in his back pocket as the cigarette perched on his lips burned into the filter. The avalanche of white powder spilled onto the tray concealing his reflection in the mirror that frankly, he’d rather not face anyway. He tossed the cigarette onto the clean ground, leaving it to burn out on its own. Taking the razor blade that always accompanied the tray, he gave the powder a rough chop before dipping his switchblade in, inhaling several substantial bumps from the uncut supply. It was overkill even for a man his size but he wanted the laser focus only narcotics could give him.

The acrid taste of it dripped from his nasal passage down to his throat as he wiped his nose as he descended the stairs leading out the loft. Queenie waved at him as he approached the bar and without having been told to, she grabbed a glass, adding a perfect large crystalline square of ice inside, and poured his favorite bourbon in, a little over two fingers full.

“Good to see ya Boss,” she said to him as she neatly placed the glass above a white paper napkin and pushed it toward him.

“Everything going well?” He asked before she had the chance to move on to a paying customer.

“Yeah, like always! It’s pretty busy tonight, you know.” She was anxious to help assist Praline and Raven who were falling behind without Alma being around to help.

“I won’t hold you up,” Bill assured. “I just wanted to ask if you could lock up the register tonight? Echo wasn’t feeling well so we’re not bagging it in tonight. Could you do that for me?”

“Okay, Echo’s shown me once after that time she had that really bad flu last Winter. Is she sick? I hope not but I noticed she didn’t look too good since the other night.”

Bill nodded appreciatively, “Right, something like that. Thanks.” He tipped his glass to her before taking a hard swallow.

He sat there for a bit, drinking his bourbon and watching over the bar while not making it overtly obvious that he was scoping Craig out as the minutes ticked. He glanced at his watch again and frowned.

“Hey. Craig,” he said, catching him just before he ducked off into the store room. “I need to talk to you about the job.”

“Are you firing me?” He said jokingly, pointing at his chest.

“I got a beep from your Cousin Joey. He wants to talk to both of us.”

“Well shit,” he said, not thrilled with the news. Talking had a lot of meanings for the Russos. “Can I finish up?”

“Quick. We’ll go up to the loft together when you finish up,” he said, sliding his empty glass toward him to clean.

…

Alma was on the road with Rashad, her head hung low and cupped in her hands. She had been crying, sobbing, and blubbering previously and now she sat there embarrassed and foolish as she tried to catch her breath. Rashad tried his best to console her but wasn’t getting through so instead he turned the radio on to drown her out. She peered up a bit and saw she was close to being dropped off and sat up. The pit in her belly weighed heavily, unsure of what to do once she stepped through the threshold of her shared home with Bill. Was she really going to leave? What would Bill do if he came back home and she was there? She feared he would be mad but she knew he probably wouldn’t be. But she was so angry, she was certain that if she saw him again she could only imagine wanting to punch him for being a stubborn asshole.

She sniffed and wiped her nose with the inside of her halter dress smudging her dark red lipstick in the process. It was then she noticed her hands were stained with black mascara and liner liquefied by her tears. She quickly pulled the visor down and met her inky vacant eyes staring back at her in the mirror. Quickly, she tried to rub it away with the back of her hand slightly lessening the ghoulishness around her eyes. She sighed, even if her makeup were perfect she couldn’t imagine feeling any better about herself. Flipping the visor up, she turned her head down the road Rashad was supposed to turn.

“Hey,” she sniffled. “I’m back that way.”

Rashad just nodded looking forward, he turned his blinker on to satiate her for a moment before turning it off instead of taking the next right.

“What are you doing?”

“I was told to take you elsewhere,” he shrugged.

Alma shook her head baffled by his indifference and unable to comprehend what he meant. “Elsewhere? Who?”

He reached for the radio and turned the volume down. “Miss Echo,” he sighed. “I don’t want to be here either but Bill told me to take you out of the city for the night.”

“What the fuck!? Take me where Rashad?!”

“He just said to take the Lincoln Tunnel outta here and find a place to stay and that there’s cash in the glove compartment for it.”

Alma quickly opened the glove compartment in front of her where there was most certainly a handsome wad of cash inside. “What is he doing,” she mumbled to herself while pushing her hair out of her face. Her mind was racing trying to figure out Bill's mind and what exactly his plans truly were.

She turned her head to look out the back window, seeing that she was moving farther and farther away from where she needed to be. Bill had pushed her out and she knew better than to put herself back in his presence but something didn’t feel right. She reeled back in thought, surprised Bill had done such a wonderful job of involving her and yet kept her in the dark just enough to have all the control of the situation at hand. She didn’t think he would have the balls to run behind her back, it just wasn’t him to keep her in the dark. Yet she was in his car, having Rashad drive her to Jersey to stay at a random trucker motel overnight. He was creating an alibi for her to take whether she liked it or not. If shit went bad at Trigger Finger he could lie on her behalf and she wouldn’t be an accessory to his crimes. However, his belief that things could go wrong enough that he curated an out for her only served to further worry her.

“Stop!”

“Miss Echo I can’t,” Rashad said apologetically.

“Stop the car! Now!” She said leaning into his ear. “Rashad, I’m begging you! I’m begging you! Just stop the damn car!” She pleaded.

Rashad shook his head. He was an even-tempered man even with being part of a pack of cutthroat security, he never liked to put himself in the middle of trouble if he didn’t absolutely have to.

“Listen,” she said, sitting back in her seat trying to seem even-keeled. “I just want to go home and pack my shit. Bill and I, we got in a fight earlier and we’re done, okay? Just stop the car, tell him whatever you want about me when you bring the car back tomorrow. I don’t care. He knows how big of a bitch I am. He'll believe you. Just pull over, please...” she said, reaching her hand onto his gripping the steering wheel.

He finally peered at her, feeling sorry for her. Loosening his grip from the steering wheel he took in a deep breath and pulled over to the curb once he was given the chance.

Alma was practically scrambling out of her seat once he did. “Thank you! Just do as he said and go. If you turn around now, he’ll come looking for me. I need a little time to get my shit straight at home.”

“Fine. Right, okay,” he said defeated yet inside he was grateful to be out from between whatever lovers spat Bill and Alma had going on.

“You’re a good man, Rashad.”

She closed the door behind her and Rashad made his way to New Jersey without her. Jogging across the street, it took a few cabs whizzing past her to finally find one willing to stop. The cabbie asked her for directions and when she mentioned Trigger Finger, he grimaced and turned his head around to take a look at the patron he had boarded on and turned around shaking his head disapprovingly.

…

In the loft Craig sat on the other side of Bill at his desk, the fluorescent lights above them humming and although Bill was dealing with the phone he couldn’t take his eyes off the mound of coke on the tray in front of his boss. What he didn’t know was that Bill wasn’t dialing his cousin’s number but his house phone, leaving a phony message for the answering machine.

“He should get back to us,” Bill told Craig as he hung up.

“You have any idea what he wanted?”

Bill dug around in his drawer for a stray pack of smokes and shrugged. “Nope, you know your cousins. You’ve been paying them right? Your earnings from barbacking here?” He said, lighting his cigarette.

Craig watched wondering if he’d offer him a smoke but he didn’t. “I mean, yeah of course but it’s only gonna take me a damn life time man.”

“Right,” he said, taking a deep drag before huffing the smoke through his nose.

Craig could tell he was tense about something as he watched him close his eyes and rub the bridge of his nose. He saw how Alma bolted out of the loft and out the back entry of the club, he figured they had some kind of fight. He squirmed in his seat hoping his cousin would call back quickly, he didn’t want to be alone with Bill for any longer than he had to.

“Don’t ask me for any blow unless you’re paying,” Bill said to him.

Craig hadn’t noticed that he was staring at the mound of powder in deep thought until Bill spoke.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, nothing just hoping my cousin doesn’t bitch me out once he calls.”

“Mhmm.”

There was an uncomfortable air of tension slowly filling the room that Craig couldn’t explain. Everything in his gut was telling him to get out of the loft but he felt glued to his seat at the same time.

“Since we’re here we should kill some time right?” Bill began. “Earlier, I saw something I didn’t really like and I just want to know what you said to my girl?”

“What? Bill, I-”

“Now you don’t have to lie to me. I remember the things Kansas told me you said to her and I’m just praying to God you didn’t say some shit like that to Alma.”

“Bill, you’re her man you’ve got to know the things we-”

Bill raised his brow, “We?”

“C’mon man, you know her better than anyone. You know how she can be?” Craig began to nervously bounce his knee hoping the phone would ring.

Bill looked away, taking a drag again trying to keep himself from exploding angrily. He shook his head, stamping out the rest of the cigarette on his desk, and stood up.

“It was probably my fuckin’ fault right?” Bill said to himself as he walked around his desk and slipped his hands in his trouser pockets. Craig pushed away from the desk worried for a moment before Bill leaned on the corner beside him. “But I gave you fuckin’ rules when you first started here. I don’t give a fuck about how Alma ‘can be’ and if you say some shit like that about her I-”

“Dude, alright I don’t want any problems okay… But I don’t think you being this angry is fair. You’ve been all over my girl before she fucked off out of my life ‘cause of you! Only fair if I got a piece off your –'' He had hardly got the words out when suddenly he felt a fist hit the side of his head. “Yo! What the FUCK!?”

Reacting he lunged from his chair tackling Bill down from the waist causing him to hit his head on the floor. He was stunned and pissed that the punch that he delivered was not one of his best. Trying to blink his vision back into focus he felt Craig connect a punch to his chin. A fistfight wasn’t in his plans but now Craig suddenly had the upper hand.

…

“Sir? Could you go a little faster? I have some business to handle,” she said to the cabbie as she anxiously patted around her bra for the little baggie of coke she knew she had.

“Almost, almost.” The man muttered.

She found her baggy, frowning at how little powder was in the bag. She carefully ripped the bag along its seams until it was just a flat piece of thin pink plastic and hastily dipped her nose in snorting all that was left before popping the plastic in her mouth to get all she could from it.

“Hey! Don’t do that junkie shit in my car!” The cabbie said to her with furious eyes looking at her in the rearview mirror.

“Relax man! It’s not dope,” she said with a tingling, numb tongue throwing the plastic out the cracked window and noticing the familiar buildings close to her destination. “Could you go a little faster will you?”

“I don’t care what the hell it is!” He continued.

“Stop right here then, you dick!” She said being able to see the cross streets she needed him to turn to. “I can walk faster than how you’re fucking driving!”

Before he could tell her that she must pay the fare before getting out, dollar bills were hastily thrown through the partition window. The cabbie was more than happy to get the junkie girl he had taken a chance on out of his car. He watched her stop in front of his car judging the traffic before running across miraculously making it safely. He shook his head, she looked about the same age as his daughter who was in law school. As he drove on he decided to retire for the night and said a silent prayer for the lost girl.

…

The friction of her heels rubbing on the soft skin of her foot stung as she booked it down the block to Trigger Finger but she didn’t stop. It felt like she couldn’t if she tried, her adrenaline was pumping but the fear pitted in her stomach was still there. She had no clue of what time it was exactly but there were hardly any cars on the block it seemed. Close to the doors, she heard a voice halting her steps and startling her.

It was Cooch. She watched Alma standing at the club's entrance out of breath disheveled like she’d never seen her before, not even after one of her benders. She opened her mouth to ask her if she was okay but the club doors opened behind her and when Alma spun around she noticed the skin on the back of her heels was bleeding. Theo had walked out to lock up, surprise on his face meeting Alma outside.

“I’ll lock up Theo.” Cooch heard Alma say walking passed him.

“Hey,” Theo said to her softly. “I’ll be back later alright.”

Alma nodded, locking the doors behind her and taking a few breaths leaning against the door and kicking her heels off. The muscles of her feet ached as they came flat to the ground. She looked up towards the loft, bracing herself for just a moment before jogging across the establishment and up the stairs to Bill's loft office. She felt dread as she approached, a sick feeling in her stomach she nearly hesitated to turn the knob until she heard a commotion inside.

She was blinded by the bright fluorescent lighting, blinking a moment to adjust her eyes and she finally saw Craig on top of Bill on the ground. He had a hold of Bill's wrist trying to get his grip loosened away from the gun he was holding.

“Get the fuck off him!” Alma screamed.

The men paused for a moment, becoming fully aware that they had company. Distracted and confused as to why Alma was back, Bill took a punch square in the nose and the image of Alma went to black. Quickly, Craig was on his feet taking the opportunity to kick the gun out of Bill’s hand. It slid to the wall opposite of them bouncing slightly off the wall and near Alma now. She looked at Craig who was inching towards her and looked down at the gun.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said to her. His lip was fat and his eye was blackening underneath his dark lashes. “What the fuck is going on?!”

Alma stepped back only to feel the coldness of the window behind her and nowhere to go. She glanced at the gun again and back to Craig’s glaring, stern eyes. He was going to hurt her that much she could tell and suddenly her body reacted and as she lunged for the gun he caught her by just a grip of her hair, snapping her head back and into his presence. Up close, his eyes were full of rage and then she knew for certain that he was going to kill her, or worse...

“You got your fuckin’ deadbeat boyfriend to kick my ass, huh?” He said cradling her cheek with his free hand. “Why didn’t you tell him how good I made you feel instead, huh?”

Alma struggled against him and in doing so she was able to get a look past him only to see that Bill was still unconscious on the floor.

“Let go of me,” she bit back.

“Shh,” he said, sliding his hand from her cheek to her neck. “We don’t want to wake him from his little nap now do we?”

She felt a sick chill run up her spine. His eyes were darkened and unreadable but his touch, although rough, felt more unpredictable. His hand slid down her neck and before he could touch her breasts, she kicked his knee in. As he buckled he took her down with him. His grip on the back of her neck never lessened and he managed to turn causing her to take his fall instead. The wind knocked out of her. Under his weight she tried to kick herself from under him, her arms reaching above her head, hands sweeping the floor hoping the gun she tried to dodge for was close by. Craig grabbed at them restraining her arms to her side where he strongly held them in with one of his knees pinning her left hand to the floor. She screamed from the pain of his weight on them.

“Were you gonna shoot me?” Craig darkly chuckled as his flat palm struck her cheek.

Alma’s right ear rang from the strike. She kicked her legs again to get out from under him, her hips lifting from the ground as she did so with more force.

“Just get the fuck off me,” she said through he teeth.

“Or what? I got you both where I want you, especially you,” he said ducking down towards her ear. She felt sick feeling his breath on her ear and lips grazing her jaw.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her legs to kick with more strength. She planted a sore foot on the ground pushing off as hard as she could to slip her body forward enough to get her right hand free while trapped between his knees. She immediately went to jab at his enraged hazel eyes causing him to ease his grip over her body to block her blow long enough that she was able to twist her body around. With her elbows, she pulled her body forward once again stretching out an arm, straining against the weight of Craig on her legs for the gun just feet away. She felt his fingers raking harshly through her scalp before he grasped her hair again, yanking her head back brutally. Quickly, she brought her hands to her face before he could smash her head on the floor, yet her nose left unprotected crunched when it met the epoxy floor. He grunted in frustration, yanking her head back once again and placing his free hand on her throat, squeezing. Alma brought her hands to the one blocking her lungs from catching a breath scratching and digging her nails into the flesh of his hand but he gripped harder. She felt her eyes bulge, speckles of black danced around in her vision as she choked.

She could feel her body, once boosted on adrenaline and a sorry bump from her depleted coke baggie, weaken. Her subconscious screaming at her for being foolish, how she could have avoided all of this had she listened for once. Tears escaped her eyes knowing she was meeting her end when suddenly the pressure from her throat released. Her lungs expanded violently seeking oxygen causing her to choke further until they found their rhythm again. Through blurred vision, she could see Bill’s figure connecting fists with Craig. Taking the opportunity, using her hands as a guide she sought for the gun again. The gun came to focus as soon as it was in her hand but the burden of welding it didn’t settle upon her until it was there. She turned towards the fighting men right next to her, who stumbled on their footing by her legs. In a panic her finger hit the trigger, her arm recoiled and sent a bullet through the couch and disappeared into a wall. Everyone in the loft froze, stunned by the noise of the blast.

While he had the chance Bill locked his arm around Craig’s neck, choking him in his rage. Over his disappointment that he couldn’t even kill a man right. That Alma almost died if he hadn’t awoken from his stupor. He gripped tighter on Craig's neck feeling his body weaken. He followed his body down once Craig’s knees gave out, yet still holding on to him. Once Craig’s hands gave up prying his arm off, Bill held him for a moment before pushing his body away, making a loud thump.

On his knees, Bill took a few breaths to collect himself before turning to Alma. She had her hands still covering her ears from the blast of the gun. She looked disoriented, unsure of her own body or surroundings until she felt Bill put his hands under her arms to lift her with the little strength he had left.

“Why?” He said to her, “I didn’t want this to happen.” He frowned looking at the state of her face, a bloody nose and liner smudged under bloodshot eyes that he knew would soon blacken like his.

“He was going to kill you,” her voice rasped. “I had to.”

Bill took a deep breath before reaching down to the ground beside her and picked his gun up. From the very beginning, he should have just shot Craig when he had the chance and avoided all this mess but his jealousy got in the way. He cocked the gun but Alma held on to his arm before he raised it.

“Is he dead,” she asked. “Could you check?”

Bill gulped, swallowing nothing from his dry mouth, and took a few strides toward the body in the center of the room. Kneeling, he put his fingers to his neck checking for a pulse. Nothing. He then put them near Craig’s nose to see if he could feel the heat of an exhale. Nothing.

“It’s done,” he turned to her.

With glassy eyes she stood, holding herself, and nodded. “No gun. No mess.”

…

The Next Evening

Bill awoke to a terrible nightmare, only he wished it was only that. The image of him and Alma wrapping Craig’s cumbersome body in trash bags jolted his sore bruised body up. He didn’t know how he had even managed to have fallen asleep after what had happened. He blinked his eyes a few times and noticed he had passed out on the living room floor of his apartment. He turned his throbbing head to meet Alma’s reddened eyes. Had she gone to bed? He wondered. She looked nearly catatonic with how she sat beside him with her knees to her chest.

“How long?” He wondered how long he had been asleep. His voice was raspy and deeper when he spoke.

“A few hours I guess,” she could only harshly whisper after having been choked out within an inch of her life.

“You sleep?” He frowned when she simply shook her head.

Alma couldn’t get the thought of how they dragged Craig's body to the back door and out in the damp alley where Joey Russo awaited with heavily muscled lackeys who effortlessly picked up the plastic-covered body and tossed it into the trunk of a nondescript car. The sound of his body thudding in particular bothered her. And yet she felt he deserved it in some way but that still didn’t make her feel good about any of it. She watched Bill and Joey shake hands and exchange some words but couldn’t make out anything that was said. All she thought about was maybe she deserved to be in the trunk too.

Though it was slow and arduous they both found themselves in the bathroom taking warm wet washcloths to their faces. Lightly dabbing away the dried and dark crusted blood under their noses. Bill examined his face in the mirror, his nose looked swollen and his right eye was soon to join it. Bill watched Alma in the mirror in front of him and how her eyes watered in frustration as she struggled to even touch her sore face and how her left hand could hardly grasp the cloth.

“I’ll help you,” he said, taking the cloth and running it under the warm water again before taking a corner and lightly pressing it to her nostril. “Sorry,” he said when she winced. “I-I’m so fucking sorry for what happened.” He choked back the lump forming in his throat.

Alma wanted to speak but even that was too hard for her. So she reached her good hand to touch his cheek gently.

“I didn’t mean anything that I said before… before you know. I swear.” His eyes began to water. “I tried to keep you safe.”

“I know…” She was able to muster. “I know.”

“I can’t believe he did this to you…” He said tears falling from his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to be there....” He sniffled.

In the beginning, Bill had his doubts about killing Craig he even was a bit remorseful after seeing his body thrown in a car trunk like a sack of shit but right now looking at what he did to Alma, his death felt justified. Her beautiful face was hidden under a veil of black and blue. If he had the energy to be angry he would be.

“I love you.” He said, kissing her forehead. “You know? I really do.” He wanted her to believe it, that he wasn't just saying so because he felt pity for her current state.

Alma blinked back tears and wiped away one of his own with her thumb. The dampness against the dried blood on his cheek streaked together in the motion.

“I know…”

#my bill writings #bill skarsgard #avenue of sins

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b-afterhours · 7 months

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Avenue of Sins: Epilogue

WARNINGS: adult content, mature readers only.

if you’re seeing this for the first time you can read part one here and if you need to catch up on previous chapters go here.

series playlist

Authors Note: Buckle in this one is a long one, 14k words. Thank you if you ever made it this far ♡

Three Years Later…

September 1992

It felt like it was happening all over again. Except Bill was on a plane ready to land in Seattle, Washington. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as the plane descended, his least favorite part about flying. He hadn’t traveled in what seemed like years from New York City. He was too busy with managing Trigger Finger to travel and too paranoid to leave it. He felt like if he ever did the place would burn down or even worse, raided by the DEA. That was until recently after a year's worth of paperwork and back door deals he was able to relax some.

He needed a partner who cared about Trigger Finger XXX as much as he did but some who also cared about Myrna. Someone who knew her. He proposed half of the ownership to his confidant and oldest friend at the club, Cooch the Coach who he now called Bianca, his business partner. A lot of things shifted at the club. Once Bianca became a partner she passed down her title of house mother to Kansas. She took it only if she never had to perform again and just took care of the girls. Bill was fine with that even though he would miss her earnings. Most notable was when Queenie became head bartender, replacing Alma when she decided to leave.

Alma left. It wasn’t a surprise. He could feel her slowly pulling away ever since that night. That night. He didn’t want her to go. He didn’t get to make up all the times he meant to say ‘I love you’ yet. He still had all the ones he thought.

When she decided to go she told him only that she wanted to take a trip back home to the middle of nowhere, Strathburg, Missouri. She missed her mom, she said. It was time she saw her again just for a week she told him. In his heart, he knew. She wasn’t coming back. She was letting him down easy. To get used to the feeling of her not being there. A week turned into two. And on the third week, she called. Her mom was sick. She will be staying until she gets better. Bill didn’t question her even though he wondered if she was being truthful.

Two months later Alma’s mother passed away. Her leaving must have been divine timing Bill thought to make Alma’s defection less about him. He couldn't imagine what kind of heartbreak she would have gone through knowing she never got to say goodbye after years of not seeing her mother. One of Bill’s older brothers went to Mrs. Lucio’s funeral. To pay his respects to a matriarch of their community on behalf of his extended family. Bill wired his brother money to help Alma with funeral costs, even though she probably didn't need it but he wanted his brother to get close enough to her so that he could report back all about her. How she looked. If she asked about him.

“Arrived. Seattle-Tacoma International Airport. The time is 9:45 AM and it’ll be a brisk 70 degrees out with a light drizzle.” The pilot announced as soon as they began to taxi to the gate.

Bill finally exhaled the breath he had held in, anxiously awaiting to stretch his long legs that had been cramped during the four-hour one-way flight despite booking first class. He had traveled out of Kansas City. Making a quick stop to visit his two older brothers. The oldest of whom he had expected to ask him for money but not until he had settled in. He asked him an hour into being back home in Strathburg. The other second oldest who loved him but disapproved of his life, he was most happy to see. Because at least he lived honestly and told Bill what he needed to hear from time to time. It felt bleak being back home but at least he felt justified for leaving it behind seeing the state of the town in shambles. He knew he’d hang himself from the white oak tree he’d liked to climb in his childhood he had not.

He joined his second oldest brother to the grocery store for barbecue meats to celebrate his last night in town when he unexpectedly ran into Alma’s father, Mr. Lucio. He almost hadn’t recognized the old man. Alma’s parents were much older when they had her and the man now walked with a hunch and a cane. He wore a trucker cap and a clean mechanics work shirt.

“Billy Skarsgard?” Mr. Lucio said after having stared at Bill nearly unable to recall him.

“Yes, sir. How have you been?”

The old man grumbled disapprovingly. “Okay…” he said looking behind him and towards another woman near his age getting into the passenger seat of his Chevy pickup. “I’ve gotten remarried a few years ago… long before Mrs. Lucio passed, mind you.”

“Yes, I’m sorry to hear that.” Bill slid his hands into his pockets feeling uncomfortable.

“Alma… she wasn’t so happy hearing that we separated while she was gone. But she hardly ever called, you see.” Mr. Lucio gave him a pointed look. “Well, I wish I could say it was good to see you…”

“I understand, Mr. Lucio.” Bill frowned a bit.

He rolled his eyes and exhaled harshly out his flared nostrils once he was able to leave the old man's presence and join his brother inside the run-down store. Mr. Lucio never liked him but for some reason, a part of him hoped he’d regard him as the grown man he was now rather than the teenage boy he knew before.

…

Bill had rented a Honda Civic from the airport and took the short drive to his hotel. His nerves were beginning to get to him even worse than they had been before he started his journey. Alma had some knowledge of his arrival. During a phone call last week, he had told her he’d be traveling to visit her within the month. He was scared to give her an exact date of his arrival, irrationally worried that she may suddenly skip town and evade him. On their occasional phone calls, he would always have a notepad by his side. Taking note of the places she visited, or the friends she had, but one in particular was the note he made that she worked at a record shop. She probably would have told him the name of the place had he asked but he was oddly too scared to. Instead, he made things more difficult and acquired a Seattle/Tacoma phonebook and had Queenie call every record shop in the area asking for her.

“Sheisty Sound Records, how can I help you?”

“Hello, uh, yes I was wanting to speak to Alma. Does she happen to be in today? I have a question about a uh, return?” Queenie said her mind was tired of repeating the same script over and over by this point.

“Alma is busy with a customer right now but I can-”

Queenie slammed down the phone on the receiver and screamed in elation and relief. She ran up the stairs to the loft office and barged in without knocking. Startling Bill and his bodyguard Theo as they were speaking.

“Sheisty Sound Records! I found her, Bill!”

“No way!” He said perking up in his seat and taking the piece of paper Queenie had written down the much-needed information he was seeking. “Shit! Thank you so much.”

Queenie stood there proudly before asking, “I really hope you go see her now. I miss her. Bring her back Bill. Last time she visited she didn’t stay very long and we hardly saw her.”

Bill smiled sheepishly but thanked her again for her trouble and promised her a personal tip that night.

In his hotel room, Bill immediately entered the hot shower after he made a phone call to the record store asking for Alma and hung up before an employee could pass the line over to her. The steam from the shower felt glorious to him. He didn’t like how the recycled plane air stuck to his skin and made his face and lips dry. As he stood there letting the water cascade over his body he reminisced about the last time he had seen Alma almost two years ago. For some reason, it didn’t feel as nerve-racking to see her then as it did now. He thought that maybe after dealing with her mother's affairs after her death was done her trip back to New York City was her coming back home to him. Unfortunately, she had only come all that way to gather some of her main belongings and give away a few other things to whichever girl at the club wanted them.

He was rather sad that she wasn’t staying but he decided that he wouldn’t hold her back. He felt that he had done so long enough. He remembered one night they were together they spoke only once and briefly about Craig before mutually changing the subject. It still felt too raw, too real then. Alma admitted to him that she still had night terrors about it. He admitted the same but didn’t tell her that Craig succeeded in killing her in his dreams instead. Bill watched her speak and noticed how her skin looked so plump and less sunken. Her eyes had a spark to them again and it made his heart flutter. She had stopped doing drugs cold turkey just by being in Strathburgh for the last year. She looked healthy and it seemed like she had a slightly better disposition on life despite her mother’s passing. He knew her mother was the only thing tying her to their home town and in some way, her passing freed her from that place.

Bill ran a bar of Ivory soap across his body remembering how Alma touched him the last time they made love. Real love. The type of lovemaking that still could shudder his breath thinking about. When she was back he told her loved her constantly but that night he couldn’t keep the words out of his mouth. They kissed every inch of each other. Their bodies had connected thousands of times before but that night they were never more aware of how perfect they fit until that moment. Like it was meant to be.

Bill quickly rinsed off, trying to keep himself from being too distracted by those thoughts. Drying off, he lit a cigarette before using the hotel hair dryer. He wanted to get ready quickly and hoped that maybe he could catch Alma on a lunch break or if not he could scope the place out and try again tomorrow. Once the steam from the mirror in front of him dissipated he looked at his face in the mirror and contemplated trimming his facial hair or shaving it all off. He swiped his hand across his upper lip stubble one last time and decided he wouldn’t mind a clean shave.

After a quick stop at a flower shop, where he ordered a fresh bouquet of white and light pink peonies. It felt weird to show up to Sheisty Sound Records empty-handed. He sat in the car for a moment observing the Seattleites walking around with hot cups of coffee, wearing what seemed to be tattered hand-me-downs and, a lot of flannel. His gaze fell back on the shop when a logging truck revved by. The youths skating in front of the place and loitering by the shop didn’t help with his uneasiness. He could see his old self in them but they seemed more ruthless than he had ever been. He figured maybe it was because he was getting old and losing his edge.

He stepped out of the small Civic, placing the bouquet on the roof so that he could bend down to retie his Doc Marten bootlace and pat down his crease-ironed trousers clean from lint along with his black Louis Vuitton polo shirt. He lightly jogged across the street with the bouquet in hand and as he got closer to the record shop he tightened his long black pea coat to his body as he passed the teenagers cracking jokes and making a slight ruckus after a young boy fell off his skateboard trying to do a simple kickflip. Just as quickly as he spotted them, they spotted his tall imposing figure in all black approaching them. The three teen girls who were looking up at him jaws dropped and their hands came up to their mouths as they tried to stifle their blushing giggles. The teen boys just stared at him unsure of how to react to him but they quickly rolled their eyes when noticing the girl's reaction.

“Holy fuck he’s tall as hell!”

He heard one of the boys say as he walked inside the establishment. He stood there a moment until a woman with a baby on her hip and a diaper bag in hand passed him and politely asked if he’d help her open the door. He nodded and did so taking a look at the bundled baby in a white puffer onesie and a matching beanie as the child waved at him. He caught himself smiling.

Bill took a gaze at the record shop, the same as many others only that it was much bigger inside than he anticipated. From the outside, it looked more like a small hole-in-the-wall establishment but inside it spanned much longer. Something he hadn’t seen in most record shops was that they had a back area with a stage reminding him of when he used to manage local NYC punk bands. This looked like the type of venue he would have booked back then. It was a nice place he had to admit and it was just the kind of place he would find Alma.

There was a folksy rock song playing on the store's stereo system as he approached the cash wrap which sat in the middle of the place similar to a circulation desk you would see in a public library. He cleared his throat to gain the attention of a girl with a bleached buzz cut and a septum piercing she fashioned with a diary lock. She was rifling through a stack of tapes with chipped red painted fingernails and idly conversing with another employee, a guy with long hair in a low ponytail who was wearing a thrifted brown tweed suit jacket over a white band tee riddled with cigarette-burned holes.

“Excuse me, I’m a friend of Alma? I was hoping she’d be here?” He said, lifting a brow nervous that he may not even be at the right record shop after all.

“Alma? Umm…” the girl looked around the store for a moment. “I think she’s still on her lunch break?”

“No.” The guy said with a bored sigh, never looking up from his task of pricing records. “She took an early lunch break today. She might be in the back.” He shrugged.

Another employee stopped near them in passing, overhearing them. She was tall, with afro twists adorned with gold string embellishments on the two front twists.

“I last saw her by the bathrooms,” she said leaning on the cashier counter handing the girl with the buzzcut a few more tapes. “Here you go, Ulyssa.”

“Those kids outside I swear they misplaced the tapes on purpose,” the girl with the buzzcut, Ulyssa grumbled.

Bill stood there impatiently, they spoke almost as if he weren’t even there. They hardly ever looked at him beyond their tasks at hand. Unconsciously, he rubbed his temple. Was Alma there or were they fucking with him, he thought.

“Okay… but she's here, right?” He asked.

“Yes, I’m here.” A familiar voice announced before laughing.

He looked a little behind him to his right and saw Alma there leaning against the threshold of a small office room. She looked different but in a good way. He noticed she had adapted her style to where she was now. Wearing high-waisted mom jeans, a plain white shirt tucked in under an oversized brown cardigan, and black Converse. The biggest difference was her long teased hair was cropped to her shoulders in a long bob and she was wearing her glasses again. A pair without a chip in it.

“You gonna just stand there or do you wanna come into my office?” She smiled at him.

Bill smiled too as he finally approached. She took his hand and closed the door behind him before she hugged him tightly. She couldn’t help herself and snuggled her face into his chest taking in the scent of him. She missed him that was for sure. He felt her hands snake around to his back feeling around to the front of his chest again. She bent all the way down sliding her hands on the outer side of his legs. Bill looked at her curiously, his mind going in a direction he didn’t expect their first encounter to go, at least, not yet. Until, on her way back up she swiped her hands on the inner side of his legs stopping just before she touched his crotch. There was a devious grin on her face.

“Really? You’re seriously checking me for a fucking wire?” Bill said with a smirk of disbelief on his face.

Alma laughed. “You never know.”

“You never, what? Do you not know me anymore?” While it was a rhetorical question in nature he couldn’t help but wonder.

“Oh my god, Bill.” Alma groaned, rolling her eyes. She took a seat, not in her office chair, but instead one of the two that sat in front of it. “I’m just fucking with you.”

“I had pictured this going so differently.” He said taking a seat next to her.

“Disappointed?

“No, I was just so nervous and here we are again back to how we’ve always kinda been.” He shrugged. “I got these for you,” he said, passing her the bouquet of peonies.

She smiled nearly burying her face in to smell them. “Aww, thank you. You’re so sweet when you let yourself be, you know?” She said, hugging his hand briefly. “I’ll put these in a vase after lunch.”

“Your coworkers out there said you took an early lunch?” He lifted a brow.

“But you’re here now, aren’t you hungry? Wait, how long have you been in town?”

Bill looked at his silver Rolex watch. “Hmm, since mid-morning. Almost 4 hours?”

“Okay, so let's get something to eat. I have a weird shift today. It’s a half day and then I’ve gotta come back later this evening because we have a show tonight.”

“A show?”

“Let’s go! I’ll explain once we’re out of here.” She said standing up and grabbing both of his hands so that he would also.

They walked hand in hand to a little family-owned pizzeria a few blocks away. Bill couldn’t help but notice how he looked like her tall looming shadow with the outfit he chose to wear.

“You’re very sneaky but not really.”

He heard her say suddenly wondering what she meant until she explained.

“So which girl in the club did you have play as your private investigator?”

Bill stopped in his tracks. “What?”

Alma turned around to look at him. “Oh, don’t play coy. You know you just could have asked me where I work. I wasn’t keeping it a secret.”

“You knew I was coming?”

“In a way…” she said, retaking his hand so they could continue walking just a little bit further to enter the pizzeria. “Let's just get our pizza slices to go. We can talk in the plaza. Away from people.”

They sat on a bench affixed with a large metal rain awning as they ate. Bill again watched the people in the strange cloudy city he was in. Miles away from New York eating subpar pizza. Though he wasn’t a born and raised New Yorker living there for over 10 years had made him a bit of a snob, though he rather not admit that.

“New York pizza is better, huh?” Alma noticed Bill’s expression as she threw her pizza crust to a squirrel nearby. “It’s just what's close by,” Alma shrugged.

“It’s fine enough, I guess. So… how’d you know I was coming? Do you have one of my girls working as a mole in my club for you?”

Alma lightly laughed. “No. Well… not really. Cooch tells me stuff here and there but she’s not telling me the details of your day or anything like that.”

“Hmm,” he said to himself. Of course, it would be his business partner, of all people. Bianca liked them both and in the same way, Myrna did, she encouraged him to be with Alma. She was the reason he finally flew to town.

“Don’t be mad at her. If I want to know something I always call you first. It’s just sometimes a little verification doesn’t hurt. I really do want to know if you’re okay beyond what you share with me. Besides, it wasn’t her that blew your cover, it was you.”

“How? I didn’t say when I was coming.”

“It was almost like a month ago? Someone called the store and Ulyssa told me a girl had called asking for me but they hung up on her face. Usually, when people ask for me they stay on the line to bitch about something. But I shrugged it off, until you told me almost a week after that, that you were going to dirty ol’ Strathburg but not when and you didn’t give me a date of when you were coming here either. But I knew Strathburg was a pit stop, at the very least.”

“Okay, okay so you knew.”

“Well yes and no. I figured out you were coming but not until today. When you called asking for me and hung up in Ulyssa’s face again! And she said it was some guy this time. But yeah, I figured it was you.” She lightly laughed.

“So are you happy that I’m here or do you feel put out that I came?” He leaned forward and clasped his hands turning his head towards her.

“What? Never. Of course, I’m happy that you’re here.” She scooted closer to him, hooking her arm under his, and hugging it. “You can stay as long as you want. You can stay forever even.”

He turned his head again towards her and kissed her. Doing so seemed to settle his worrisome mind. “I missed you. I love you.”

“I know…”

“I know we talk as much as we can but there’s so much stuff we can’t say,” Bill said and Alma nodded in agreement.

While apart they would speak regularly but Bill could be paranoid and they both agreed that they would speak moderately vague. Afraid that in an unfortunate series of events, his phone lines have been taped or maybe someone could overhear something they weren’t supposed to. It’s the reason why he never asked Alma where she worked and the same reason Alma would call Cooch to verify things.

“How long are you in town for?"

"I have a flight back on Sunday so 4 days? Three and a half now. But I mean I can really go back whenever I want. I don’t work as much when it comes to pushing cocaine. I’m nearly out. I just do some middleman sales with Alvin’s creepy ass.”

“At least you finally admit he’s a creep! He’s an asshole too.”

“I mean… I knew but he’s nobody.” He shrugged a bit but laughed. “I don’t touch the stuff anymore it became a bit tired. Boring even. It’s not as fun without you.”

Alma rolled her eyes but smiled. “Oh please. But you do look really good, Bill.” She said, squeezing his bicep. He flexed a little to amuse her. “You look like some of those daddies that come to your club now.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, kissing her on the cheek. Alma liked the feeling, she was so used to his stubbly kisses that his bare-faced ones felt so much sweeter.

“Let’s not start…” she said suggestively.

“Okay, so as I was saying. I don’t sell grams to the patrons. But, there’s two guys – two dealers – who know Alvin that sell in the club. Same shit that we sold but they do the grunt work and all I do is take a fee from their sales inside my club. So I’m not making as much money as I was but… I don’t really need to.”

“Smart. When people get greedy that’s when they lose it all.”

Bill nodded. “True. Plus I just don’t want to deal with it anymore, honestly. Things are getting really ugly in NYC because everyone is cooking it down to rock. It’s just everywhere.”

“I heard.” Alma shook her head. “Here, people are mostly fucked off of dope. Gives me the heebie-jeebies. It’s not very glamorous either.”

“Not at all. And you? How’s work and all that?” He leaned back on the bench placing a long arm over her shoulders.

“It’s busy like I said before on the phone. But it’s nice, the employees are great. If they ask, you’re a businessman, by the way, that's what I’ve told them,” she winked at Bill’s amused face. “But the music scene is so different here but I like it. The people here are a little bit nicer than people in the city for sure. I applied to night school. I start next spring semester, so that’s something new at least.” She shrugged.

“Really? So you’re really going back?” Bill had recalled a late-night phone call after having phone sex with her that they spoke a bit about it but she was still indecisive about the prospect then.

“Yes. I’m going to try at least.” She shrugged. “I- um it’s just the time management of it all, you know.” She sighed. She looked more stressed about the thought than she was letting on. Though, Bill figured it was just nerves because she hadn’t been in an academic setting in so long.

“Well I’m glad,” he said, rubbing her shoulder. “I’m sure you can do it. It’s just that means…”

“I’ll be staying here.” She nodded with a slight frown on her lips. “I… want to go back. I do but there are just some – things – here that I have to take care of first.” Her gaze fell away from him as she explained which he found odd. It was avoidant and that unsettled him. As he was just about to ask what those things were, she stood up. “Um, we should go back to the shop the band roadies are supposed to be there around now. I need to be a boss and oversee that shit. You know how it goes,” she winked.

…

Bill found himself moseying the record aisle while Alma helped direct the roadies where the music equipment needed to be on stage. He leafed through a table of records, seeing how many albums he could recognize when a copy of Dark Entries by Bauhaus jumped out at him. He smiled to himself, remembering the copy he used to personally own. He plucked it off the table and turned his head towards Alma. She was still preoccupied, letting in another group of bulky bearded men holding cases of beer, a cooler, and several bags of ice from the back door. At the counter sat the tall girl with long twists checking a customer out and placing their items in a brown bag, hand stamped in blue ink with the store's name on it.

“Hey, um, I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Bill, Alma’s uh friend, yeah.” He said awkwardly because all things considered saying he was just a friend just didn’t feel right. Though, it was useless to get into the complicated specifics with a stranger.

“Right. I’m Ash.” She said playfully pulling the skirt of her long maxi dress and giving him a curtsy. “You thinking of buying that?” She asked, pointing at the record in his hand.

“Uh, actually I was hoping you could play it on the sound system?” He said handing it to her.

“Oh, sure, no problem.” She looked at the cover and smiled. “Bauhaus, old school nice!”

Bill smirked but he thanked her. Instead of standing around, he decided to duck off into Alma’s office leaving the door open to listen to the track he requested. He took off his coat draping it across the back of her office chair and looked around at the decor. It was mostly band posters and stickers stuck everywhere on the walls. Even on the windows, he could see out of which wrapped around the top half of the office. On the desk were only some payroll paperwork along with a few checked-out library books. Mostly a few nonfiction music bios, but there were two about feminism and two Dr. Seuss books.

He was trying to get a sense of where Alma was at mentally but a part of him wanted to be naive. Not everything had to have a deeper meaning, he thought to himself but it didn’t satisfy him like he wished it would. He didn’t like the thought that she’d be living in Seattle longer than he anticipated. It had already been three years, wasn't that enough? Wasn’t he enough to go back by now? Something about how she deliberately avoided his gaze earlier bothered him too and he loathed that he felt that way. There was something she wasn’t telling him.

…

Bill was buying beer from the impromptu bar those three bearded men were running, collecting bills in meaty clenched fists. He knew they were operating without licenses but he thought it was funny that even if Alma was working in a legit business she still found a way to be shady by outsourcing bikers for bartenders. The band, Fringe Fangs, was on stage shortly after Ulyssa and the guy with the ponytail from earlier who he learned was named Gregory did a jumbled and long-winded slam poetry duet as an opening act.

“I just let them express themselves,” Alma said in a hushed whisper during their set when she noticed Bill side-eying her. “They’re very passionate, I guess.” She clamped her hand on her mouth to keep from laughing.

Bill finally had two Rainier beers in hand, trying to circumnavigate the crowd who were moshing in the middle pushing the people near the edges where he was at. Like a sixth sense, he was able to spot someone barreling towards him and he quickly stepped back and turned his body to the side before being taken down with the unlucky few in front of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he was in a mosh pit but the way his joints ached these days he couldn’t even if he wanted to.

Alma had noticed the commotion that had happened in front of him and laughed but was glad he had made it back unscathed and two beer cans still full. They enjoyed the show by the sound mixing table at a safe distance from the chaos of thrashing bodies. He enjoyed the music and while the band wasn’t as great as some of the grunge tracks he’d listened to in his free time back home, they weren’t as bad for what it was worth. He noticed Ulyssa tap Alma on the shoulder from behind and she leaned her ear toward her mouth as she spoke. Alma’s brows furrowed before nodding her head in understanding. She turned around and downed the last bit of her beer and set it down on the floor.

She put her hand up half-fisted with her thumb and pinky out to the side of her face and mouthed, “I have a call.” And then she put her pointer finger up letting him know she’ll only be a minute.

He positioned his body in a way so that he could see a bit behind him to watch Alma followed by Ulyssa to the circulation cash wrap counter. He saw Alma put the phone to one ear and the other she covered with her hand to be able to hear whoever was on the other line. Her face looked somewhat apologetic as she spoke and then a strained frown appeared as she looked at Ulyssa who stood by also seeming to want to know the details of the call. Alma leaned her elbows on the desk, rubbing her forehead before hanging up. Ulyssa placed a hand on her shoulder as Alma seemed to have told her the particulars of the mysterious call she received. He noticed that she pointed at him and then Ulyssa walked around the cashier wrap, grabbing her tote bag and retrieving car keys out of them before slinging it over her shoulder.

He turned back towards the stage again, took a sip of his beer, and swallowed hard. But not before catching a glimpse of Ulyssa holding Alma’s face in her hands as to reassure her before hugging her tightly.

…

They were able to leave the record shop show at a decent time for them. While it was late, it wasn’t as late as when they would leave Trigger Finger. A few other employees who came in for the evening shift stayed behind to clean in understanding that their boss was hosting a friend from out of town as it seemed to him. However, she wasn’t hosting him at her apartment and instead, she asked if they could stay at his hotel. Especially, after having learned that he was staying in a king suite at the Fairmont Olympic. It was a fancy institution in Seattle close to Elliot Bay.

“You set all this up?” She said taking her black Converse off as she entered the suite. She shrugged her tote bag off her shoulder glad that she always had an extra outfit in her office, something she learned to do while working at the club.

“Well, there’s a patron at the club who’s a travel agent. I just told him what accommodations I wanted and he did all the work.” He said scratching the back of his ear before taking her tote bag and setting it on the couch.

He watched her walk towards the bedroom, swiping her hand across the neatly laid down comforter before going towards the window and opening the canvas blinds. Light rain was running down the glass as she gazed at the lit city below. He felt pulled towards her and as he approached and wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. She leaned back, relaxing into his embrace and reaching a hand up to thread it into the hair on the back of his neck.

“I love you,” he said between kisses.

“I love you too,” she said, turning around to meet her lips with his. When she could feel him slowly inching them towards the bed she reluctantly pulled away and lightly laughed. “Could I, maybe, take a shower first? I had a long day and the show made me sweaty.” She said as she took her glasses off, shrugged her cardigan off, and tossed them on the single upholstered chair in the room.

“Oh yeah sure,” Bill said, catching his breath.

“You can come too,” she winked, walking past him towards the bathroom as he followed with a smile on his face.

He took off his shirt on the way in and fiddled with the shower taps to find a comfortable temperature for Alma. When he turned around she was already standing bare before him. His heart skipped. When she saw his eyes widen for a brief moment, she giggled. He took her hand, leading her into the shower, and made quick work of removing his pants and underwear in one fell swoop to join her under the warm shower of water. The sexual tension between them was palpable but he let her have a moment to wash her hair in which he helped scrub her scalp and while she conditioned it he wet his hair to make do with his. When he finished Alma was facing him for a moment, handing him a soapy washcloth and turning around again prompting him to run it along her body. He ran it along her back gingerly but as he ran it against her hips he couldn’t help but become enamored by how womanly her body had become. Soft in all the right places. He couldn’t take it anymore and pressed his body against her back. She gasped when she felt how hard he was pushing on her ass cheek. He continued running the washcloth delicately multiple times across her breasts which caused her eyes to flutter closed appreciating the sensations. She felt his lips on her neck again kissing tenderly as he dragged the washcloth towards her belly and squeezed the soap from it. The way the suds trickled down to her core tickled her for only a moment when they were replaced with his bare hand touching her there. His other hand was around a tit pinching her nipple. She opened her eyes to look down at the familiar but dearly missed sight, making her moan which echoed in the acoustics of the bathroom. Her hips bucked back as he made purposeful circles around her sensitive nub so that she could feel more of him hard-pressed against her.

Bill stopped when she was near climaxing putting his hands on her hips to turn her around and got down on one knee. She leaned as comfortably as she could against the white tiled shower wall while hooking her leg around his shoulder before he delved in with his mouth. He wanted to taste her first climax of the night on his eager tongue.

Cutting the shower off, Alma wrung her hair out quickly and took Bill’s hand as he led their way to bed. She wanted him so bad and he did as well but the shower wasn’t the best place when you need to be agile. He spun her to the front himself so that she could settle into the bed before himself but she sat at the edge for a moment. Taking him into her hands to stroke him considerately, missing the feeling and appreciating the heft of his erection. He watched her kiss his dripping tip before fully taking him in her mouth relishing the feeling of the warm pressure. Her hands assisted her by lightly massaging his balls. He looked at her affectionately while he gathered her wet hair in one hand and the other caressing her hollowed cheek prompting her to gaze up at him. He took the hand lightly tugging his balls and held it before he pulled his hips back to slightly thrust into her mouth. It was a courtesy thrust to alert her that he was going to do it again but less gently. She looked up again and nodded once, ready for him. She took him all the way to the back of her throat and she heard Bill deeply groan while her eyes were shut tight as they watered.

“You’re always such a good girl for me,” he said.

While he was enjoying himself he wanted to be inside her for real. So he gently pulled away and let her catch her breath. He crawled into bed following her as she scooted backward and finally reached her lips. He took the back of her head again to hold her there as he swiped his tongue along her bottom lip begging to be let in. As they made out, he positioned himself and perfectly aligned with her, muscle memory taking over. She followed the hand cradling her head down to the pillow, ready for him. He pushed inside her ever so gently which she loved because she liked to feel all of him slowly filling her wanting to feel every ridge and vein. Once he could push in no longer they both moaned from the feeling. The connection, the fullness, the tightness. He gave her several long strokes, all the way out and all the in, before pumping in and out of her in an even rhythm.

They were filling the room with moans and obscene noises as they kissed and nipped at each other's skin. Like him being inside her wasn’t enough, they wished to be closer than humanly possible. Alma looked down between them to see him thrusting inside her and the erotic sight made her body hot. Her stomach muscles began to tighten and Bill closed the gap between them when felt that tension around him. He was ready but he kept up his pace so that she could come with him and he could tell she was so close. He ran his right hand down her leg and hooked it around her knee to prop it up creating more room for him to push deeper. Alma’s breath hitched at the feeling, she took his face into her hands so that he would look at her. The eye contact and the friction of their bodies linked together sent them over the edge. They came hard together. Barely able to catch a breath between their thumping hearts and residual moans. Their bodies felt amazing from what they could do to each other.

….

It was early dawn when Bill awoke to Alma ending a hushed phone call and walking about the suite. He rubbed his tired eyes and stretched his long naked body still under the sheets. He reached towards the nightstand next to him to take a cigarette out of his pack. When he snapped his gold zippo lighter shut Alma appeared at the bedroom threshold half-dressed only wearing a cropped black Sonic Youth tee over red strappy bikini panties and long white socks.

“You’re awake?” Alma said, surprised.

Bill lifted a brow as he puffed on his cigarette. Before they went to bed after another bout of a more tender kind of lovemaking he imagined that when he woke up she’d still be next to him naked for a slow-to-rise kind of morning sex.

“Yeah? I heard you hang up the phone.” When he said that he noticed her eyes gazed away from him. “You wanna smoke?” He said, trying to pull her eyes towards him again so that he could read them. There was something there when she did but he still didn’t know what exactly and he felt himself beginning to become frustrated.

“I’m okay. I quit, it’s been a while now,” she said sitting at the edge of bed next to him.

Somehow that annoyed him even more. So he took one last puff and stubbed it out on the hotel ashtray. He sat up, leaning against the headboard and placing his hand idly by his crotch.

“Alma-” He bit his lip, stopping himself before his tone could take on too much of an edge. “Who were you talking to on the phone? And yesterday-”

“I was talking to the owner of the record store just now,” she said quickly. Yet still, she couldn’t look at him. There was something wrong. “You know I have work in a little bit but I can just go and then take the rest of the day off after? I have to make sure things are okay first.”

Things, he thought to himself again. He knew with the money they made at Trigger Finger she technically didn’t have to work, she was choosing to. If she hadn’t taken up night school in Seattle she could come back to New York and never had to work again. He knew she had more than a few reasons for not wanting to come back to New York but the city was so big she could find an area that felt like somewhere else easily. Alma peered at him through her hair and noticed he was watching the way she picked at her cuticles nervously.

He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Alma… I just don’t think that’s true?”

“What?” She looked at him shocked, nearly offended he would even voice his distrust. Though maybe he had reason to, she thought to herself.

“Something’s been off since I got here, frankly. The phone call during the show? You woke me up because you were on the phone at 5 a.m.? You even checked me for a fucking wire as soon as I was alone with you!”

Alma sneered, shaking her head. “Oh for fucks sake!” She said getting up and leaving the room.

“Alma!” He shouted, swiftly jumping up out of bed, frantically digging in his suitcase for a pair of boxer briefs and a black shirt. “Don’t you leave!” He said stepping into his underwear and quickly walking out of the bedroom as he pulled the shirt on. He nearly bumped into her when he met her in the living area.

“Who were you on the phone with, Alma?” He said grabbing her arm so that she would look at him but instead, she pushed him off.

“You’re fucking crazy!”

“Is it the police? The feds? The fucking DEA?” He shouted, his eyes still trying to meet hers as she looked everywhere but him.

“I can’t fucking believe you right now!? After everything we’ve been through you think I’ve turned into a narc! You’re paranoid!” She said tapping her head with her pointer finger.

“Then what are you not telling me, hmm? You’ve been acting pretty damn shifty, what the hell am I supposed to think?!”

Alma recoiled a bit but she brushed it off by running her hands tensely through her hair. Bill watched her take a seat on the couch, blinking several times as if to keep tears at bay. Suddenly he felt awful for being selfish and accusing her of being an informer.

“Shit,” Alma said through a deep shaky sigh. Her whole demeanor had changed, she looked on edge and petrified. “Fuck it. Could I have a cigarette?”

Bill returned from the bedroom with his pack of smokes. He lit her cigarette and sat on the coffee table in front of her. They were silent for a moment while she took a couple of puffs and rubbed her tired eyes.

“I don’t know how to say this?” Alma said gazing at the ember at the end of her cig. “I um,” she sighed trying to find the right words. “So the last time I saw you, right?” She said finally looking at him which was a mistake because meeting his green eyes made her eyes water again.

“Just tell me, Alma? Whatever it is. I won’t be mad.” He said putting a reassuring hand on her bare knee.

Her anxiety-riddled heart was beating so hard against her chest. “See, I think you will?”

“What?” Bill said, pulling back confused.

“B-but you have to understand I did this for a good reason, okay? I couldn’t bring… And you’re still into stuff in New York City i-it’s just not safe.” She said jumbled and stubbed out her cigarette. “You know what we did, Bill. It’s just not safe!”

“I understand why you wouldn’t want to come back, especially after something like that. Okay, but that was on me. Joey Russo and I have been on good terms since he’s taken over. Everyone’s turned over a leaf and we’ve forgotten about Cr- him. Nothing will happen to you there.”

Alma shook her head. “I’m not worried about myself…” she said, putting a hand to the middle of her chest. “Bill…” her voice cracked. Before he could wipe the tears that had rolled down her cheeks she put her hands up stopping him. “Wait. The last time I was with you I-” she closed her eyes. “I got pregnant.”

Suddenly Bill couldn’t breathe and the walls felt like they were closing in. There was a loud ringing in his ears and he was certain his heart went into arrest. Alma grabbed his hand when she noticed he looked a bit faint. Her touch brought him back but his heart was beating erratically.

He took his hand away from hers. “Are you saying?” He stood up and paced in front of her trying to collect the thoughts of his racing mind with his hands clasped behind his head. “That you? What the fuck?!”

“Bill, I'm so sorry. I should have told you. I was just so scared… and my head was still so fucked up then. I just did what I knew how and ran. I understand if you’re angry with me but don’t be mad at the baby.” She said wiping tears that wouldn’t stop running down her cheeks.

“The baby!?” He said still unable to believe what he was hearing. “Alma why? Why would you keep this from me?!” He cried sitting defeatedly on the other end of the couch and buried his face into his hands.

“Bill… I know you probably hate me now. And you don’t have to say anything and you don’t have to see me ever again after this but could you just let me explain? So even if you don’t want to see the baby you at least know? Could I at least give you that?”

~~~

May 1991

Ulyssa came over to Alma’s apartment bringing her soup after she had called in sick believing she had a stomach bug. She had felt awful these past few weeks but this day and the night before she had been throwing up anything she ate. Even on an empty stomach, she would heave, making her stomach muscles sore and her throat burn from the stomach acid. Ulyssa had become a good friend during her time in Seattle. She could seem quite serious because of the way she dressed and had a buzzcut and a bullring in her nose but she had a sweet pure soul. She was artistic and she always saw the good in people which Alma had seen people take advantage of but even when she realized she would still wish those people well.

Alma opened the door wrapped in a duvet hardly having the strength to greet her. Ulyssa pushed her along back to the couch so that she could continue to relax and fight whatever ailed her.

“I brought wedding soup and plain chicken and rice from the pizzeria,” she announced from the kitchen as she set the takeout on the counter. “Ash gave me some of her custom tea blends and insisted I make you some.” She walked back to the living room pulling two VHS tapes from her tote bag and holding them out in front of Alma who looked like a miserable lump on the couch. “I stopped at the video store on the way. Mermaids or Uncle Buck?”

“You pick,” Alma said groggily.

“Okay… Mermaids it is. Maybe Cher will cheer you up,” she said, taking the VHS and putting it into the VCR player. “I’m going back to the kitchen to fix you up!”

Ulyssa doted on her while she lay there hardly following the movie. She finally sat up to drink the tea Ash had sent with her. It tasted like peppermint and camomile and that helped settle her empty stomach and warmed her up. The reprieve was short-lived when Ulyssa set a bowl of soup and a plate of shredded chicken breast atop white rice. She ate a few bites of the chicken and rice and a few spoons of soup when suddenly something smelled off and it made her stomach churn. Ulyssa watched Alma pick up the bowl of soup to sniff it and set it down and then the plate and noticed that she recoiled and suddenly looked green. She nearly tossed the plate down on the coffee table as she got up and ran to her bathroom to throw up the only food she had eaten all day. Ulyssa quickly followed her and held her long dark hair back until she finished. She helped her back up and closed the toilet lid so that Alma could sit down and collect herself and gargle some mouthwash.

“Sorry,” Alma apologized. “I appreciate you coming here to help me. Just something didn’t smell right.”

“You don't have to apologize. You’re only human. But the food was fresh? I saw Von make the chicken to order?” She then placed the back of her hand against Alma’s forehead checking her temperature. “Hmm. You’re not warm? And you don’t exactly look clammy?”

“I just can’t keep anything down,” Alma shrugged.

“And the smell of the perfectly fresh food made you sick? When was the last time you had a period?”

“Ulyssa, what are you getting at?”

“Well, didn’t you go see your boy… friend in NYC like two, three-ish months ago?”

“Stop… it’s not that I’m on birth control.”

“Right. But when you had that wicked cold before you went on your trip you went to the doctor? Did he give you antibiotics?”

“Yeah, I was really sick that time. I had the whole fever and runny nose and everything then but this feels worse.”

“Alma,” Ulyssa gasped. “You’re not supposed to do that!”

“What do you mean?!”

“You can’t take the pill and antibiotics! They like cancel each other out or whatever! You’re supposed to tell your doctor what other stuff you’re taking so they can prescribe you appropriately.”

“What the hell!? I didn’t know. But I can’t be… pregnant,” she exclaimed with disgust. “Like that literally just can NOT happen!”

“Well… I don’t know Alma. You might be? Unless you have some other medical issue-”

“No. Nothing like that! Like this just can’t happen… ethically!” Alma said, exasperated at the whole situation.

“There’s only one way to know,” Ulyssa took her hand and together they rushed to the drug store and back.

Alma felt like she was going to be sick again as she waited in the living room as Ulyssa stayed in the bathroom monitoring the results of the test. She heard the bathroom door open and she anxiously turned around. Her stomach dropped immediately when she saw Ulyssa smiling, wiping away tears of joy for her friend's new blessing.

It was Ulyssa who supported her every step of her pregnancy. She would have respected any decision she had made in regard to keeping the baby but she was so happy to learn that she’d be able to take her to appointments and remind her to take her prenatals. She didn’t judge her when Alma explained that she didn’t want Bill involved. Her simple explanation that things were just complicated between them sufficed. It was nice to have her but sometimes her sunny disposition annoyed her. She wanted someone to tell her she was a dumbass. So one night after working on her feet and feeling miserable she called Cooch. Bianca always had a weird sixth sense about things and when she answered, it was as if she already knew before Alma could even explain.

“Well, I knew it! I had a dream about you! It was a good one and I was gonna tell Bill thinking he’d get a kick out of it but you know I looked at him that day and… the pieces of the dream fell together and I just had this feeling. Oh my god, Alma! You have to tell him! It’s his baby too, honey.”

“Bianca, I can’t. Please, please don’t tell him! Like on my whole life, please! You understand why I can’t.”

“Okay,” Bianca sighed. “I get the jist of why. But honey, you’re just gonna do it alone? That’s not very fair to the baby, now is it? Bill would probably shit bricks knowing you’re pregnant but he would love that child.”

Alma began to cry hysterically on the phone while Bianca tried to settle her down. She was right but she was so afraid to go back to New York City and she knew Bill would want her there if he knew about her condition. Sure, she had visited just fine but the baby would add to her permanence there.

“Alma, I won’t tell. Okay? Sadness isn’t good on the baby so take care of yourself, you know best.” Bianca assured. “But Alma, I’m going to push him to visit you. I don’t know when we’ll finish all this ownership paperwork but for him and you, that’s what I’ll do. I love you both. I want this to all work out for the both of you.”

Alma had wished that their conversation went differently but it’s what she needed to hear, she supposed. She continued on, growing bigger and bigger. One night she was on a phone call laughing along with Bill when she first felt the baby kick. She gasped, bringing a hand to her belly in awe. She hung up on him, feeling tears welling up in her eyes as she held onto her belly and it all hit her that she was really carrying a child within her. During the first half of her pregnancy, she just felt like a walking science experiment even if she had seen the amorphous being in her first black and white ultrasound feeling the baby move finally made it real.

Her employees created a small baby shower at the record shop for her. They all chipped in for cake and ice cream for her which Alma felt bad about because she was more well-off than they were but they didn’t know that. They gifted her diapers and various essentials meanwhile Ulyssa had made her hand raw and sore by all the baby beanies she crocheted. They were all gender-neutral tones, Alma had decided that she didn’t want to know the sex. In some ways, she still felt detached. Later she would know it was because she didn’t want to enjoy certain milestones too much if Bill wasn’t there to experience it with her. A way of punishing herself because no one seemed to want to berate a pregnant woman for her decisions. Nevertheless, she was grateful to her work family and tried to stay happy enough for the baby.

The feelings of detachment she felt washed away when she delivered her child. A long, hard 26-hour labor. Her nurses pleaded with her to at least take the pain medication in place of the epidural she denied, as they watched her arduously breathe and sweat through contractions. She denied those too. She thought she deserved the pain for the things she had done. For the greatest sin, a person could commit. She almost succumbed to a violent near death herself but that was merciful compared to how it felt pushing her baby out of herself. Ulyssa was by her side even though Alma told her that she wanted to be alone at first. Her mom was gone and Bill didn’t know he was about to be father, they were the only two people she would have wanted in the room. She gave in around 13 hours just to have someone hold her hand.

Having the child in her arms pushed some of those loathsome and lonesome feelings aside. She couldn’t believe she could love something so much in a matter of seconds, it was overwhelming. She didn’t feel like she deserved to have such a precious innocent life in her arms but she knew she would keep them safe and love them. She couldn’t help but notice all the features the baby inherited from Bill. The light brown hair, the perfect plump lips, and the little but big ears he has.

While raising a newborn was hard, some things were just instinctually easy. She took time off work for 5 months but she would sometimes visit the shop when she would go out so that the baby could get some fresh air. It was also because she was starting to feel cooped up in the apartment most days. Ulyssa or Ash would visit when they could to give her a break for a shower or take her and the baby's clothes to get laundered. A few weeks after she gave birth Bianca called about the child. She had told her, her due date during an earlier phone call and knew she should have had the baby by now. They spoke a bit and Alma had asked for some baby advice from her, she knew she was a good mom to grown respectful boys.

“And don’t worry Alma,” Bianca said before the call concluded. “He doesn’t know, I haven’t said a word. But remember what I told you?”

“I know… and I do want him to visit me eventually. I don’t know how long I can keep this to myself? I talk to him on the phone but when the baby cries I have to hang up on him and yeah…” she frowned.

It was exhausting taking care of a baby while also keeping up a lie. A very big lie from someone she loved. From someone she shared a child with. Although, if he did come to Seattle she couldn’t just bombard him with the news by handing him a child he’s never seen before in his life. Expecting him to immediately step into the role of a father of a child he may ultimately not want anything to do with. It didn’t matter how much he loved her, that he even killed for her. She couldn’t even share this part of her, this part of them with him.

And then the day finally came. Bill had flown into Seattle to finally visit. Bianca had called her job now that she was back to working in the record shop. The baby was crawling around in a playpen situated next to her behind the office desk. The babysitter was Ulyssa’s more studious and nerdy twin sister Yolani, She picked up the child until around 10 AM most days so the baby would come to work with her for an hour as she opened the store. But because she had a half day she arranged to keep her until the evening because of the show that night. That was until Bianca informed her that Bill wasn’t far away. Alma’s heart jumped in a panic; she suspected that she would have more of a heads up but Bill hadn’t told her when he left Missouri, instead, he called her from the airport payphone when he arrived.

Immediately, Alma made a phone call to Yolani apologizing for asking her to make changes to their agreed schedule today. Yolani informed her that since she was on a later schedule she had taken herself to a cafe for breakfast to study for an exam but that she could be there in close to 30 minutes. It would do, she had no idea where Bill was at the moment so she hoped that it was more than enough time.

In the meantime, she checked the baby's diaper bag even though it was always packed with what was needed but her nerves were starting to get the better of her.

“Ulyssa?” Alma called out of her office when she saw her pass by the office door. She reversed her tracks and walked in. “Your sister is coming to get the baby early today. Um, my boy- um Bill,” she took off her glasses and tensely rubbed the bridge of her nose and put them back on. “He’s here.”

“What?! On his way or…”

“No, here in Seattle.”

“You know what? Someone called and hung up in my face again. It was a man’s voice asking for you like about 40 minutes ago…”

“Oh my god,” Alma sighed. “Your sister said she could be here in like 30 minutes,” she reached into the playpen picking up her child and kissing them on the cheek.

“Don’t worry, I’ll call her and tell her it’s urgent. I’ll explain enough to her. But tonight? She’ll have to keep the baby overnight then, right?”

“I’ll pay her extra. Or whatever she wants. Thank you Ulyssa. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” her vision blurred as tears prickled her eyes.

“Of course, lovely! I’ll have Gregory put the playpen in the stage storage. And if he comes while baby is still here we’ll slow him down.”

Alma waited with the baby in her arms by the front of the record shop. Watching cars pull up by the curb and checking for familiar faces but the teens bullshitting outside blocked half her view. By luck, Yolani arrived quickly thanks to her sister's call. Alma apologized and thanked her in the same breath. She watched Yolani and the baby leave her office after she had grabbed the baby bag. Staying behind she took baby pictures off her desk and put them into a lockable desk drawer then her breath hitched when she saw the familiar tall man walk in as they left. She couldn’t breathe for what felt like forever when she had seen him acknowledge the baby as they reached out and waved their little hand. As if they both knew.

~~~

September 1992

Bill sat silently, shell-shocked with what he had heard. His feelings were all over the place despondent and angry and just confused over everything Alma revealed to him. She sat on the opposite side of the couch sunken into herself wiping away tears. She wondered if he would speak now after he had sat mute the whole time she spoke but he just sighed and put his face into his hands again. The air felt thick and the cold blasting AC was deafening in the room.

“I’ll leave,” she said silently. “I know… this is a lot. I was very wrong, I know.”

Bill muttered something into the palms of his hands that was unintelligible.

“I couldn’t hear you,” Alma said, leaning towards him.

“And where is the baby now?”

“With the babysitter, well the call I had during the show was from Yolani. Something came up and so Ulyssa, her twin, left and took over for her. This morning I called my apartment where Ulyssa stayed overnight.”

Bill scratched his jaw, “What did we have?”

“A girl,” Alma bit her lip to keep it from quivering. “A little girl. She’s healthy, perfect.” Alma could have gone on and on about how she was a sweet, friendly, and happy baby but she didn’t want to pile on so much because she had restricted him from ever knowing that. “Do you want to know her name,” she asked cautiously.

Bill swallowed the lump in his throat. “No. I-I don’t think I’m there yet.”

“Okay,” Alma nodded understandingly. She took a notepad and pen from the coffee table and scribbled her address on it. “I have to go home. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to or if you’re not ready but, um,” she paused to keep her voice from breaking. “If you leave, could you at least call and tell me? So that I can know that this is done?” She wiped the stray tears that fell away.

She got up and quickly put on her pants and Converse sniffling as she did it. Bill just sat there on the couch staring a hole into the wooden coffee table and unmoving. Alma along with her tote bag was just about to walk out of the hotel room and paused when he called her name.

“Alma,” he said, still staring at the coffee table. “I love you.” He announced to the living room as if he were only saying it to remind himself that he really did.

She smiled sadly and before she left she said, “I know…”

…

Bill sat silently for an hour, his mind was vacant for at least half that until he started to review everything Alma had explained over and over again in his head. He just couldn’t believe she would have kept something so major, something so important, something so life-changing from him. All the mixed feelings of betrayal and sadness and anger and disgust made him sick but something else was there he didn’t expect. It was happiness, he felt a new brand of pride knowing that he was a father. He never imagined being one, he hadn’t ever put much thought into it before. The thoughts he did have weren’t fond takes of fatherhood either. He was afraid he wouldn’t make a very good one. Plus, it didn’t help that he didn’t really like his own very much. His father used to beat him and his brothers especially him because he dressed like a freak as his father would say. That or a sissy boy which he was called since he was a little himself. He ran a hand through his hair trying to wish those awful memories away.

Soon he found himself in the scalding hot shower standing with his back towards the stream with his head down sulking. He had no idea what to do with himself, he stood there for almost an hour just thinking and remembering things he’d rather not. In a way, he understood Alma’s motivations. She was deeply depressed and guarded when the incident with Craig happened. He could imagine it was difficult that the only person she could even talk to about it was him but their distance made it impossible. Even when she had last visited him in New York City she hardly wanted to unpack it. He could tell it was still bothering her deeply. He didn’t like what he had done either but knowing that Craig had almost killed her he didn’t really care as much as she did. When she did open up a little, she said the part that mostly bothered her was that in a small way, she was ready to die. And he blamed that on himself for what he had put her through. Giving her the runaround and not properly loving her like he should have. He wanted to but was too much of a coward wanting all the benefits of her company without commitment. They still hardly ever called each other boyfriend or girlfriend. He was selfish. But so was Alma. She kept a piece of him he couldn’t take away from her.

He found himself at the hotel restaurant dressed simply in a white shirt and dark jeans and keeping to himself. When the waitress asked if he’d like the mimosa drink special he shook his head and asked for a glass of William Larue Weller whiskey neat instead. He ordered a veggie omelet that he only took 2 bites of and asked for the rest to be sent to his room. He didn’t have an appetite. Instead, he went to the large bar in the main hall which was barely opening for service so early in the morning. On his third whiskey, he began making a mental con list in his head of why he couldn’t be a father to a little girl. He owned a strip club for starters, he was a former drug dealer, he was a womanizer to some degree, oh and he’s killed someone and was indirectly involved in another. He shouldn’t be a father, he should be in prison, he had thought to himself.

Bill stretched his back against the high chair he was sitting in and ordered another whiskey. He stood up with the glass in hand to take back to his room waving off the protests of the bartender for doing so. He set the glass aside on the nightstand while sitting on the edge of the bed that housekeeping had fixed for him while he was gone. Putting a cigarette to his lips, he leaned against the headboard and lit it. He sighed out a plume of smoke in thought. Thinking how Alma had mentioned that she did what she did to keep the baby safe. Though he knew what she meant he couldn’t help but think that she meant safe from him. He shook his head, the liquor was muddling his thoughts and misconstruing things for him.

He took his thoughts off himself then. He leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling and pictured Alma as a mother. Such an odd image because much like him she never expressed feelings of wanting children either. Although he had to admit to himself that the image warmed his heart. A quick thought of her pregnant body came to mind but he pushed that away because they became filthy and he wasn’t in the mood to think of her that way. Though she never expressed wanting kids he never heard her say anything bad about them either. Had she stayed in New York, would she have kept the baby, he wondered. If they were the traditional type maybe things wouldn't have been so convoluted as it was right now.

The only certain thing was that Alma was pregnant and never told him and now he had a daughter. One that didn’t know he existed her whole short life. One that he didn’t know existed until about three hours ago. He stubbed his cigarette out and downed the rest of his whiskey before settling into the bed. He was tired of thinking and the whisky was making him tired. Luckily, before his eyes grew heavy he came to a conclusion.

…

Alma was in the bath with her daughter laying on her bent knees above the water washing her hair. She had no clue if Bill would come or if she’d ever see him again but in case she thought they ought to look presentable. Especially if they would meet for the first time. However, time passed and it was near evening around 4 p.m. It was drizzling outside, the overcast making it much darker than it should have been. Alma’s heart started to break a little, not for herself but for their daughter.

But she couldn’t blame him either. She was tired of crying though, she had done what she had done and said what she needed to say. He knew now and she could stop lying. The lying was the worst part for her. That part was done whether Bill and her were done she still didn’t know but she hoped he would call like she asked. While the baby was sitting in her chair swing she left a moment to the hallway closet to grab the box of baby mementos just in case.

…

Bill awoke suddenly from his slumber. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep but he was kind of glad he did because he woke up with a clearer mind than before that was for sure. He checked the time on his watch, noticing how long he had slept. He stood up quickly, he knew Alma must be sitting in her home waiting for his call, more likely considering he slept half the day. After brushing his teeth and fixing his hair he walked to the living room and tore the piece of paper which Alma had written her address from the notepad.

He pulled up to the small apartment complex which looked more like a large house divided into 4 apartments, two on the top and two on the bottom. He checked the paper with her address once more and saw that she lived in apartment 1B. His heart started racing, he knew once he stepped through that door his life was going to change and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. But he couldn’t live with not knowing either.

He pulled his black unzipped hoodie closer to his body and knocked on the door quite hard at first by accident and quickly corrected himself remembering there was a baby inside. Alma opened the door alone standing there in a white Adidas sweatshirt commemorating the 1984 Winter Olympics and black leggings. Her glasses weren't on and her hair was half up. Alma looked a bit shocked to see him standing there but quickly let him in.

“Thanks for coming by,” she said sheepishly, fiddling with the sleeves of her sweater. “Um, the baby is taking a nap right now, that's why she’s not out crawling around or trying to walk,” she lightly smiled.

“Mhm,” Bill nodded. “I thought about it some and I think I do want to meet her. I mean when she wakes up.”

“Yeah, sure,” Alma nodded.

She pointed at the couch inviting him to sit with her. It was a bit awkward between them but not anything they couldn’t work out of. Before she could sit down, she thought to maybe give him something to drink so she grabbed two bottles of water from her fridge. He sat there looking around her apartment, there was obvious evidence that there was a baby living in the home with the chair swing and little toys inside a chest. He also noticed that while everything was nice and neat she didn’t seem to live beyond the means she certainly had. It was a humble dwelling. A place to lay your head at night comfortably.

She came back to join him, handing him a water. She could feel the tension in the room and it unsettled her having that feeling in her own home but she pushed those nerves aside.

“So I can imagine you might have a lot of questions,” she began. “But I want to make sure how much I can say because I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t expect you to jump into this full speed and I’ve accepted that you might not want to at all.”

“Alma, I want to be around,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t know how often that may be because of the distance but I-I want to know her.” When he said it out loud he truly felt it. Though he had doubts about himself being a father, he wanted to at least try. “I’ll figure everything else out later but right now this is what I want to do.”

A wash of relief and happiness fell over Alma. She felt like she could finally breathe. Though things between them would probably be prickly for a while she was glad they could put it aside for their daughter.

“I have this box full of baby things,” she said, reaching for it on the coffee table in front of them and lifting the lid off. “Would you like to go through this while she sleeps?”

She pulled a few things out which looked like photo albums and newborn clothing and then grabbed a manilla folder and opened it, inside were her ultrasound pictures. She handed one to him and he carefully took it in his hands. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at. Until Alma pointed at a white speck near the center of the photo.

“That’s what she looked like in the beginning,” she lightly laughed. “And then she eventually grew into her looks,” she said, passing him another ultrasound photo with a clear profile of the baby that grew inside her.

He traced his finger along it now wondering what she looked like now. She told him that she was a fairly big baby at birth and really long which made him smile but kind of made him feel for Alma giving birth naturally. She handed him the newborn clothes that the baby wore in the hospital and he could help but notice how big his own hands were compared to the small garments.

“Alma, can I ask you something,” he said, laying the little onesie on his thigh.

“Of course.”

“Yesterday, when I first showed up to the record shop. I saw her, didn't I?”

“Yeah, that was her with her babysitter Yolani walking past you.”

Bill rubbed his hand across his mouth blinking back tears. He remembered the baby’s outstretched hand in his direction and some part of him felt something but he hadn’t paid attention to it then.

“We can take a break if you want,” she asked.

“No, it’s fine,” he cleared his throat. “I’m fine. What did you name her?”

And that’s when Alma started blinking back tears of her own. She took a deep breath to collect herself. “Her name is Echo.”

“Oh,” Bill choked up.

“Yeah, um it’s Echo Myrna. I figured I should give her a middle name for someone that you’ve loved in your life, too. And well, you kinda named me Echo too.”

Bill put his arm around her and hugged her tightly. He knew better than to think that while she never told him about their daughter she always still had him in mind. They were in an embrace for a long while when he told her that he loved her and she said it back. Because they did even if they were both fucked up, they were all they had.

They could hear cheery baby babble from the next room. Echo was finally awake.

“Do you want to meet her?”

“Yeah, should I follow you or?” He said beginning to feel nervous.

“Yeah come on. She is a good sleeper, a lot better than us for sure. And she never wakes up grumpy, only sometimes when she’s hungry,” Alma lightly laughed.

Baby Echo was standing in her crib, smiling happily when she saw her mother walk in. Alma felt Bill let go of her hand a few paces behind her but she didn’t think anything wrong by it. She could feel his hand trembling in hers going to the bedroom so she knew it was because of nerves. She reached into the crib and lifted Echo out, smoothing her bed hair down. Echo reached for him the same way she had done at the record shop and smiled brightly at him this time.

“Would you want to hold her?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure,” he said, wringing his sweaty hands together and putting them into the pockets of his hoodie.

Alma nodded understandingly. She knew she had to be mindful and go at his own pace but she wished he had said yes. “Let's go back to the living room. I need to make her a bottle.”

Bill sat on the couch and watched Alma hold their daughter in one arm while the other scooped powdered formula and put it into a water-filled baby bottle. He noticed how Echo rested her head in the crook of her mother's neck, content while sucking her little thumb. His heart strained noticing how much she really did look like him especially now that he finally decided to look through a small photo album. Her newborn pictures showed lighter brown hair than she did now but even if her roots had darkened some he could see the golden wavey locks on the ends when they had joined him on the couch again. He saw the pictures of the baby's first Christmas, she was still so tiny and fresh sitting on Alma's crossed legs under a Christmas tree as she opened a present.

“How old is she?” He said looking at the little girl who was kicking her little feet towards him. She was gnawing on the tip of the bottle smiling at him with a curious expression on her face.

“Nine months almost ten,” Alma smiled. “She was born on November 30th.

“She looks so small in these pictures,” he said, flipping to the next page of his daughter enjoying a day in the park.

“I have a few rolls of film I still need to develop from this summer. She’s a very photogenic kid, kinda like you that way.”

Echo giggled a bit as if she were actually following their conversation. Without even thinking about it, his hand reached for her little wriggling foot. He smiled at her when she giggled again because his touch seemed to have tickled her little foot.

“Hi.” He said to her and then looked at Alma, “What should she call me?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with. We don’t have to decide that today?”

Bill nodded. “Could I try? Could I hold her, I mean.”

Alma took the baby bottle from Echo before she gladly handed her to Bill who was quite obviously nervous, it was all over his face. But when she was in his arms and she placed her little hand on his chin his nervousness seemed to lessen. Echo looked up at him with big round green hazel eyes with so much familiarity it nearly frightened him. As if she knew exactly who he was. His heart warmed in a way he had never felt before, it was scary. He could only imagine how Alma felt when she had first met her. The feeling was overwhelming.

Suddenly, Echo’s quick hand took a grasp of his nose and squeezed it making him wince.

Alma reached over and pulled her hand away. “Echo, be nice. Sorry, she can be a little feisty but she’s friendly at least.”

Bill laughed. “It’s okay,” he said, touching her cheek until her little hand took hold of his pointer finger. “I like her. Kinda reminds me of her mom.”

That evening he just held her in her arms as they spoke about their daughter. When she needed tending too he stood back but watched trying to take mental notes on how she liked to be cared for. She seemed like a fairly easy baby and a very happy one. Bill decided to stay the night at her place and in the morning offered his hotel for them all to stay at and spend some time together as a family. So that he could acclimate to the reality and be with his daughter.

When they entered the hotel, Bill brought in the bags Alma had packed along with the playpen as she walked through the place to show the baby around. She sat Echo in the center of the large king-sized bed and took the camera from inside her jacket to take a picture.

“Look at you, big fancy girl!” She said as the little girl clapped happily.

They enjoyed the weekend and it was as if they had done this all before. A second nature came out of Bill and took over. Alma watched him place their sleeping daughter into the playpen next to their bed on the last night he was in town. When he joined Alma in bed, he kissed her deeply and pulled her on top of himself. Eventually, they lay in bed naked, discussing how to make it all work. Making solid plans to travel to each other until they could all settle somewhere. He wanted to be a better father than his dad was and while it scared him like hell he would do his best for Echo. And while he was still upset to some degree with Alma he tried to be understanding. She was just trying to protect their daughter.

“She kinda saved me, you know. I know I shouldn’t put that on a kid but yeah she changed me.” She snuggled to the side of him. Though he only knew his daughter in only a few days he could sense what she meant by that.

“I love you, Alma,” Bill said sleepily. “I think I’m okay with her calling me Papa. That feels right. Right?”

The baby suddenly cried out in the middle of the night just as her parents were going to drift to sleep. Though promptly Alma got up, on her way to her daughter she picked up one of Bill’s shirts and threw it on before picking her up from the playpen. With Echo in her arms, she walked towards his side of the bed and picked up the premade bottle that sat on his nightstand.

“It’s your turn papa,” she said, passing the baby along to him as they both laughed.

Bill happily obliged, he had a lot of catching up to do.

FIN

#my bill writings #avenue of sins #bill skarsgard

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