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Chapter Nine
In the last two weeks, Eileen had visited the bar eight times, but she never saw the cops again. She didn't know if it was just bad timing or if they weren't as regular as she'd hoped. Sometimes she stayed out late, lingering at the corner of the bar, sipping slowly, watching every new face that walked in. Sometimes she wanted to ask the bartender directly, but Mike was always there. Always. Sitting in that same damn corner, nursing the same bottle of beer, giving her that hot, hateful stare.
But she wasn't going to give up that easily.
"Did you find them?" Mrs. Maya asked as she stepped into the kitchen, tying her apron.
"No, I didn't," Eileen replied, stocking the fridge with drinks. The glass shelves clinked softly with the bottles, but I'm not giving up.
"Why don't you let me help you?" Mrs. Maya offered, placing a hand on Eileen's arm. "I could go to the station, find him myself-"
"No." Eileen turned to face her, her voice firm. "I don't want to put you in danger. One mistake, and everything falls apart. I can't take that risk. You don't know when they're watching." I'd ask you if I need help.
Mrs. Maya looked worried but nodded. "Okay. If you say so."
"Promise me," Eileen said, eyes narrowing. "Promise me you won't go to the station."
"I promise," she said quietly.
Just then, Josh ran down the stairs, school bag bouncing on his back. He looked cute with his blue shirt and black shorts. He went straight to the kitchen.
"Good morning, Mrs. Maya," he greeted with a quick smile.
"Good morning, Josh," she said, ruffling his hair.
Eileen sat silently, thinking of what to say. Their conversations were still short and hesitant, but they meant something to her. A small sign of hope.
"Can I have my lunch?" he asked, looking past Eileen.
"Yes, but you should greet your mom, too," Mrs. Maya prompted.
"Good morning," he said, flatly, barely glancing at her.
She handed him his lunch box.
"You should thank your mom too," Mrs. Maya continued. "She woke up early just to make that for you."
"Thanks," Josh mumbled, eyes still averted.
"I should go. Tommy's waiting in the car. I'll be late."
"Bye, Mrs. Maya!" he called and stormed out the door.
Eileen sat down, deflated. Her shoulders slumped.
"A step at a time," Mrs. Maya said gently. "He's just a little boy, and he's hurting. Keep showing him love, no matter how much he pushes back. He doesn't hate you. He just doesn't understand yet."
"I know," Eileen whispered. "I'll keep trying. I hurt him, so I deserve this."
"No, you don't. He doesn't fully understand what happened. If he did, he'd be clinging to you, not pushing you away."
Mrs. Maya gave a small smile. "He's got a good heart, just like you. You know, Last year, he bought two pairs of Nike sneakers for his classmates who couldn't afford them."
Eileen's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Yes. And there was another time he forced José to pay a friend's hospital bill. Kept pestering him until José finally gave in."
Eileen smiled, imagining that stubborn little boy standing up to José. Maybe there was still time to fix what was broken.
That night, the city buzzed with life. Friday always did that - brought people out, lit up the streets, made the bars hum. The bar was crowded, the music smooth and mellow, and the whiskey in her glass burned just right. Eileen sat by herself at the counter, nodding her head softly to the rhythm. Mike was in his usual corner, with his usual beer, giving her that same stare. She could feel the heat of his gaze like it was searing her back.
She knew he wanted her to make a mistake. One false move, and he'd pounce. He wanted to hurt her again. He waited for it. But fuck Mike. She wasn't scared of him anymore. If she got the chance, she'd stab him again-no, this time, she'd kill him.
She sipped her drink, eyes scanning the entrance. She had almost given up for the night when the female officer finally walked in. Eileen sat up straight. This was her chance. She had to play it smart.
Luckily, the officer took a seat right behind her at the bar, ordering a drink and pulling out her phone. Eileen caught a glimpse of her wallpaper-an LGBTQ flag.
Well then. If the officer was into women, Eileen didn't mind putting on a little charm. All she needed was to get a number. Just a name. Just something that could lead her to the detective-without making it obvious what she was after. You couldn't be too careful. You never knew who was working for José.
Eileen discreetly unbuttoned the top of her blouse, dabbed on some lipstick, and turned around just slightly to flash a flirty smile. The officer smiled back, her eyes lingering.
Perfect.
Eileen smiled again, finished her drink, and stood up. Mike made a move like he was going to follow, but when she turned toward the restroom, he relaxed and stood guard nearby.
Soon, the officer walked in after her.
"Hi," Eileen greeted with a bright smile as the door shut behind them.
"Hi, beautiful," the officer replied, grinning.
"You're the beautiful one," Eileen said with a playful tilt of her head. "Beautiful and brave."
The officer laughed. "You're funny."
"I'm Cindy," Eileen lied, offering her hand.
"Tasha," the officer said, shaking it.
"I admire what you do. It's not easy being a protector in a fucked up world like this." Eileen turned to the mirror and reapplied her lipstick. "A few nights ago, this detective helped me. Saved me from getting mugged. I never got the chance to thank him."
"Oh yeah?" Tasha asked. "What did he look like?"
"It was dark. I couldn't really see him well. But I heard he's new in town."
"Yeah, we've got a new guy. Transferred here earlier this year."
Eileen turned to her with a hopeful smile. "Do you think I could get his number? Just to say thank you?"
Tasha hesitated, then pulled out her phone. "I guess it's harmless."
She typed something and handed it over. "Here you go."
"Thanks," Eileen said, her smile warm and sincere. "Do you come here often?"
"Yeah, pretty often," Tasha said.
"Then I guess I'll be seeing you around."
Back in the car, Eileen leaned against the window, letting the night air wash over her. Mike drove in silence, occasionally flicking those hateful eyes at her through the rearview mirror. But she didn't care. Her heart was pounding-not from fear, but from the surge of hope she hadn't felt in a long time.
As soon as they got home, she went straight to the kitchen. In the back of the third cabinet behind a box of flour she knew José never touched, she retrieved her secret phone. Hands trembling, she powered it on and did a quick search on the number.
It took a few tries, but eventually, something popped up. A name: Alvarez, was linked to that number and one of the four officers who had raided the drop site of Josè's gang that night was also an Alvarez.
She had found him. Finally, A thread of light in the darkness.
Her ally.
Detective Alvarez.