122 Rules by Deek Rhew

patch in the road. My bike took the off ramp, and here I am. My life has been turned upside down so many times I don’t know which way is which. So, I thought, ‘why the hell not?’” He fell silent for a while, then asked, “So you graduated top of your high school class, then followed your dreams to be a lawyer?”
    A stab of anger pierced her heart. Not at Peter, who also seemed to be one of life’s misfits, but at Crew Cut, Granite, Driver, Jon, Bad Facelift, Laven—all of the bastards that had taken her life from her. She’d told them the truth and cooperated, but they had presumed her guilty and given her no chance to prove otherwise. The FBI had locked her up and treated her like a criminal trying to skirt her punishment, while they got their witness. They always seemed to be one step ahead… Only, perhaps not. Maybe she could finally get a leg up, make them pay and hurt, if only a little. Crew Cut needed something to put in his report, so she’d give him something that would really make his life interesting. “Well, that was the plan.”
    Peter hesitated. “But it didn’t work out? Looks to me like you’re living the dream.”
    “Well, looks can be deceiving. I went to NYU on a full scholarship and was all set to be a big shot lawyer. But then I overheard a conversation I wasn’t supposed to.” She envisioned Crew Cut sitting up straight, frantic to call his boss. The image gave her a glimmer of glee, and she just managed to contain the laughter threatening to burst from her lips.
    “What kind of conversation? Who was it?”
    “It was between a drug lord and his hitman. Maybe you’ve heard of the Laven Michaels case?”
    “Oh yeah. Who hasn’t? It’s all over the headlines and on every news channel. They have some star witness though that doesn’t seem to be enough because, by all accounts, the case seems to be falling apart.” He looked closer at her in the weak light. “Wait. Is that you? You’re the witness?”
    “One and the same. They wanted to ‘protect’ me, so here I am in witness protection, though I think witness prison is a better name for it. They locked me away, using me when they wanted and forgetting about me the rest of the time.”
    “So what happens when the case is over?”
    “Well, they promised me an education and that I could continue with my life. Instead they gave me a certificate of paralegal, stole my identity, and sent me away to this little shithole of a town.”
    She turned towards the hidden microphone so that it would pick up her words clearly. “There’s this bastard, Hale Lenski, who is supposed to be protecting me, but basically he’s a demented dictator with all the charm of asparagus. I call him Crew Cut, because he looks like he has his hair done at a lawn and garden store. He’s locked me up, and jumps on my ass the second I do anything, so I’m more prisoner than the guy they’re trying to convict. Other than Crew’s remarkable lack of personality and snow-shovel good looks, there isn’t anything attractive about him.”
    “No love lost there,” Peter remarked. “So, they stole your identity?”
    She turned back to him. “Witness Protection, baby.”
    “Wait, so you’re saying your name isn’t Susan?”
    “Nope. Monica Sable, star witness and slave to the system.” She held out her hand. Peter looked stunned as he took it, and they did an awkward lying-in-bed-naked shake. “Pleased to re-meet you.” Pleasure rippled through her body at the thought of Crew Cut and the galley shitting monkeys and making angry phone calls.
    “Wow. I don’t know what to say to that,” Peter said.
    She laughed. “You don’t say anything.” She rolled over on top of him. She kissed him, the smoke in her lungs passing to his. She took another hit off of her cigarette then stamped it out in the tray. They shared this last breath from a dead cancer stick as Monica ground her hips against his. She adjusted her pelvis, and he slid inside of her. She