A Regrettable Mistake

A Regrettable Mistake 

by 

Anthony Mendoza 

Grayson leaned against the trunk of his car, fighting the urge to pace back and forth. He pulled the final drag off his cigarette before flicking it amongst its dead brethren scattered across the asphalt. Cynthia was over an hour late and he hadn’t heard from her since they had finished working 3 hours ago. She didn’t answer any of his calls or respond to his texts. He grabbed his phone from his pocket and texted her “are you ok? please answer!” for the 3rd time. He slipped his phone into his pocket. When the hand reappeared, his pack of smokes was in his palm. He lit a new cigarette and took a deep puff, exhaling his stress along with the cloud of smoke. 

He looked around at the empty parking lot. The world was quiet here. He could barely hear the traffic from the freeway. It was muffled by the empty building that stood on the lot. The evening was chilly for this time of year, and he was happy to have his jacket with him. A small breeze drifted across the lot, carrying the sweet scents of spring with it. A pair of headlights appeared along with that breeze. This was not Cynthia’s car. This was a limousine, and it was driving directly towards him.  

He puffed his cigarette again as the limo came to a stop inches away from him, his car, and any possible escape. He thought “escape” because he quickly realized this could be a volatile situation. He stopped leaning and stood as tall as his 6-foot height would allow him to look. His heart was pumping hard, but he was a cool customer on the outside. 

The back door of the limo opened, and a mountain of a man came out. He was dressed in a charcoal suit that, though well-tailored, could not hide the toned physique underneath. The man approached Grayson, stopping barely a foot away. He stood an entire head taller than Grayson and knew how to use his size as intimidation. “Unlock your car and get in the limo.” he said with an assertion that allowed for no pushback. 

“Probably pointless to ask why, huh?” he asked anyway. 

“Well, he doesn’t sound stupid.” came a voice from inside the limo. 

He went to grab his keys from his pocket when a massive hand grabbed his. “Hold up there.” the big man said. 

“I’m just grabbing my keys. They’re in my pocket.” Grayson said.  

The big man didn’t let go. He reached into Grayson’s pocket instead, grabbing not just the keys, but all the contents. A half pack of Trident and a wad of about $200. “Get rid of that and get in the car.” he said, pointing at the forgotten cigarette he still held. 

“I’ll trust you to keep my belongings safe.” he said with a nervous smile, trying to break the tension. He dropped the cigarette and smothered it with his foot before walking toward the open door. He hoped the occupants didn’t notice the visible gulp of him attempting to swallow his fear as he entered the vehicle. 

- - - 

The limo had 2 men seated inside. One man in his late 40s sat casually along the side row of seats. He looked like an audience member waiting for the show to start. The other was also in his late 40s, sitting in the center seat of the back row. His expression made Grayson’s concern grow. It said this wasn’t his first rodeo. There was malice and menace hidden behind the calm in his eyes. This man was clearly the one in charge. He motioned Grayson to sit in the row opposite Mr. Casual. Grayson did as he was bid. 

He sat quietly, begging his tense body to relax. He leaned back and looked at Mr. Casual. He started to realize this man looked familiar. He looked at Man in Charge. He was looking familiar too.  

Man in Charge let a slight grin appear on his face. “Recognize me?” 

Grayson had been pinched enough times to know not to self-incriminate, and although this wasn’t the police pokey, he stayed silent. 

“Mr. Flynn asked you a question, Grayson.” Mr. Casual said. 

They knew his name.  

He was starting to piece it all together when Mountain Man stepped into the limo and sat beside Mr. Flynn, closing the door behind him. “Found this in his trunk.” he said as he handed him a black messenger bag. 

I may be fucked here Grayson thought as Flynn emptied the contents on the seat beside him. He used his hand to spread the wallets, rings, and watches he and Cynthia lifted earlier. He was obviously searching for a particular item and when he found his prize, a Patek Philippe worth more than Grayson’s car, he looked at Grayson and said “Funny how this watch started the day on my wrist and wound up in this bag. How’d that happen, Grayson?”  

“Where’s Cynthia?” he asked Flynn. 

“Why do you answer a question with a question?” Mr. Flynn responded unironically. “You need to take note of your situation, young man.” 

“I’d like to know about Cynthia. Please tell me what you did to her. And yeah, I recognize you. As for the watch.” He paused. “You already know how that happened.”  

He may have only been 25 years old, but Grayson had a decade of experience as a pickpocket. In all those years this was just the second time a mark had tracked him down. Five years ago, he had stuck around a spot he liked to work too long. A man he pulled a wallet off had come back with a few friends, and he took quite a beating that day. It had taught him some lessons though. He never spent too much time in any spot after that. He thought that day had taught him caution too. Yet here he was, his worst nightmare come to life.  

As the limousine began to drive, Grayson looked at his captors. These were not 3 blue collar Joe Blows, and it wasn’t 60 bucks in a stolen wallet. He was beginning to think any lesson learned here would never be applied. His days of lessons, and anything else for that matter, were looking over. 

- - - 

There was a long silence as the vehicle wound its way out of the lot and onto the road. Grayson held his tongue and kept from asking where they were heading. He knew there would be no answer. He also knew that while he had no leverage, he couldn’t let them see him sweat. He was trapped and outnumbered and wasn’t much of a fighter to begin with. There wasn’t much he could do but play the cards he held. He figured he’d be safe while in the car at least. 

“She’s a beautiful girl, isn’t she?” Flynn finally spoke. “Smart too. Like Robbie here,” he pointed to Mountain Man, “she knows how to use her body to get her way.”  

He was referring to their initial meeting a few hours earlier. Cynthia and Grayson had been working a weekend festival when fate thrust them into Flynn’s path. They had been walking through the crowd from one end to the other, scooping up wallets, watches, and anything else they could pull off someone. Flynn and Mr. Casual had been among the festival goers and Cynthia was first to spot them. Grayson’s eagle eyes went straight to his wrist, noticing the quality timepiece and his instinct took over. They used a simple distraction technique where she would catch the marks attention and Grayson would bump into them, acting distracted by her as well. A quick apologetic two-handed handshake would end with the watch in Grayson’s possession. 

“Where you from, Grayson?” Flynn went on. 

“Milwaukee.” 

“Milwaukee, yeah. Do you know the name Richard O’Malley?” Flynn asked. 

“Sure. I never met him, but I know about him.” Grayson said with a shrug of the shoulders. 

“What do you mean? About him?” 

“He’s a man to be respected.” This was the point Flynn was trying to make, Grayson realized. “I must apologize, Mr. Flynn, for not knowing of you earlier. I’m new to the city and I'm just trying to get on my feet here. A man’s gotta make a dollar, right?” He spoke that last bit with a boyish smile that broke down a lot of mean looks through the years.  

“I wouldn’t consider 6 months as new in town.” 

Grayson was about to interrupt when Flynn put up a hand in the “wait a moment” gesture. 

“She sold you out, Cynthia. Quick too. I didn’t even have to hurt her.” Flynn said. 

“I only met her 3 weeks ago but looks like that partnership is over.” Grayson said. “She only distracted and took handoffs anyway.” Proudly, he said “I did all the work.”  

“Stop interrupting Mr. Flynn, kid.” growled Mr. Casual. He was clearly irked by Grayson’s surprising calm. He was expecting a penitent puppy, but Grayson wouldn’t kowtow so easily. “He’s the one asking the questions.” 

Now Flynn’s “wait a moment” gesture was aimed at Mr. Casual. 

“As I was saying, 6 months is not new, and this city is 3 times larger than Milwaukee. If you knew there were people to respect in Milwaukee, you should have known there’s people to respect here. Ignorance cannot be an excuse. Now, if you had learned what you should have learned earlier, you’d have known I have a lot of business running through this festival.” 

Flynn paused to let it sink in. 

“This festival is one of my year’s best months and I don’t need a finger-smith fucking that up for me.” he said with some fire to his tone. “I sure as shit don’t need people learning you swiped my own fucking watch.” The fire in his voice had gone up a notch.  

The combination of the tinted windows and the moonless sky suddenly made the limo feel like a tiny box and Grayson felt like a mouse among snakes. The limo continued its drive to the unknown destination. The outcome of this meeting looked bleak. He didn’t just work somebody’s territory; he personally embarrassed the man.  

“I’m sorry, Mr. Flynn. If I had known, I would’ve never come near the festival.” He pointed to the loot spread across the seat. “Please accept those as compensation for any troubles I may have caused you. If you cut me a break, I’ll leave town. I’ll never mention our earlier meeting to anyone, ever. I’d love to never think of it again myself. I’m just a small timer. Show some heart please.” 

“If I want these, they’re mine. Everything’s mine. Understand?” Mr. Flynn’s face didn’t change. The car came to a halt. Grayson looked toward the front of the limo and could see they had pulled into an empty warehouse. 

“Time’s up, kid.” Mr. Casual said. The earlier excitement had returned. 

Robbie opened his door and stepped out. Mr. Casual motioned for Grayson to exit. 

Grayson went to exit the limo, but instead lunged toward Mr. Flynn. He put his hands on Mr. Flynn’s chest, grabbing his jacket lapels. “Please Mr. Flynn. I’m sorry.” he pleaded. Mr. Casual shoved him off Flynn toward the open door where Robbie had already half entered. Robbie grabbed Grayson’s wrist and started pulling him out the limo. 

“Get your hand off me.” Grayson barked as he used his free hand to grab Robbie’s. He gripped the fingers locked around his wrist and with a twist and push had somehow released himself. Robbie’s face looked surprised; he’d never had someone break his hold.  

Grayson exited the limo. Robbie had already regained his composure. He held a gun pointed at Grayson. “No more funny shit.” He waved him away from the limo. Mr. Flynn and Mr. Casual exited a moment later. 

- - - 

The warehouse was empty, save for three of its four walls consisting of bare shelving and a single folding chair near the center. Mr. Flynn walked to the chair.  

“Let’s go.” Robbie said, meaning for him and Grayson to follow. 

Mr. Casual went to close the rolling steel door the limo had just exited. The click-click-click of the chain pulley echoed loudly in the silence of the massive room. 

Mr. Flynn was now seated in the chair. Grayson stood in front of him, a few feet back. Robbie stood behind Grayson; gun still pointed at him. A few seconds later, Mr. Casual was beside Robbie. 

“Mr. Fl...” Grayson started. 

“Shut up!” Mr. Casual ordered.  

Grayson closed his mouth. 

“Cynthia is a smart girl. I said that, right?” Mr. Flynn said without expecting a response. “She knew the minute we approached her that this was not her world. People like that, fear is a natural truth serum. So I know she’s being honest when she says she’ll never speak of today to anyone. I’m afraid I can’t offer you the same treatment. You very much belong to our world.” 

Robbie pushed Grayson with the gun in the small of his back, kicking him in the back of the knees at the same time, dropping Grayson to the ground. “On your knees.” he snarled. 

Grayson’s legs betrayed him, and he put his arms out to keep from smacking his face onto the floor. Although it wasn’t a violent fall, it was enough to knock something out of Grayson’s jacket. It was a wallet. Tan suede leather with a large F etched on either side of the fold. 

“How the fuck?” Mr. Flynn blurted out as he stared at his wallet. He looked at Grayson and was smiling before his brain recognized he had done so. “You’re fucking bold kid. You got my wallet in the 2 seconds you were begging me and all 3 of us missed it. Why though? What did you think you’d gain?” 

Grayson looked at Mr. Flynn, then tilted his head in thought. He was searching for his words. 

After about 5 seconds he looked back at Flynn. A smile broke across his face. It was an award-winning smile that Flynn guessed parted many pairs of legs. His eyes had a cartoonish twinkle to them. The power of his charisma was on full display. 

“I guess I did it because I like to steal.” he said. “You kill me. You find the wallet. Doesn’t matter to me anyway. I’m dead. If you just beat me up, maybe I keep the wallet secret. You took all my loot. I’d need money to skip town. Either way, I saw a chance to steal, so I took it.” 

Mr. Flynn roared out in laughter. “You’re something else, kid. I never met anyone with such balls! Or maybe it’s stupidity. Whatever it is, you’re rare. What other kind of work you do, kid?” 

Grayson was surprised by the change in Flynn’s demeanor but happy about it none-the-less. “I’ve yet to find a lock that I couldn’t pick and I’m a pretty good safecracker.” He turned around to look at Robbie. He slipped his hand into the long sleeve of his jacket. When it returned to sight, he held a leather strap watch. “Also, remember when you started pulling me out the limo?” He held out his hand for Robbie. “Sorry.” 

He turned back to Mr. Flynn. His smile was still there but tinted with sadness. “It’s a gift and a curse.” 

Mr. Flynn had started laughing again. “I can’t believe how this night has turned out. I changed my mind about you Grayson. I’m not going to do what I planned on doing.” His laugh, and any presence of kindness quickly disappeared. “You should be extremely grateful for that.” 

Grayson opened his mouth to speak when Flynn gave him the “wait a moment” gesture again. 

“I know talent when I see it. More important, I know when someone can make me more money. You have talent beyond belief. You’re rough around the edges though. Real rough.” He paused. “I’m going to show you the ropes. You got a lot to learn but you’ll make us a lot of money while you do.” 

“Mr. Flynn I would be honored to work for you!” Grayson blurted out. “Thank you for not doing what you were going to do. What were you going to do though?” 

Flynn smiled. It was not award-winning nor was there a twinkle in his eyes. The power of his malevolence was on full display. “Just be happy we’re not doing it.”  

END