Bonds of Love

* *

Chapter 5
Kyle caught up with Vic again at the time clock. Theman was nothing if not persistent. “Hey, Vic,” he whined. “No harmdone, you know?”
If this was an attempt at trying to sound contrite,it didn’t work. Vic punched his time card and brushed by Kyle,heading for the locker room. He’d ignore the man, simple as that.If he didn’t, he’d kick his ass, and that wouldn’t look goodon his next performance review.
But Kyle trailed behind him like a naggingafterthought. “Dude, we’re pals, right? I was just kidding you. Iknow you guys are tight.”
As he deposited his lunchbox in his locker, Vic gaveKyle a withering stare, but his co-worker was too busy running agreasy hand through his short blonde hair to notice. “All I’msaying is that was you in the paper, no?”
Vic narrowed his eyes and tried to will Kyle to lookat him, if only to see the pissed off expression on his face. ButVic’s telepathy didn’t work that way, or maybe Kyle was too denseto influence, who knew? Who cared? Vic sure as hell didn’t.Slamming his locker shut, he stepped over the bench behind him toget away from Kyle.
Damned if the guy didn’t follow. “Wasn’t it?” heinsisted. “Talk to me here. That was you.”
With an exasperated groan, Vic shrugged his shouldersand shook his head. Somehow, Kyle took that to mean yes. Helet out a whoop that echoed off the lockers and made Vic cringe.“Do you have to be so fucking loud?” he muttered.
“You should hear me in the sack,” Kyle laughed.
No, thank you.
Kyle hurried after him as Vic headed outside to thegraveled lot where the buses were parked. “So how’d you walk awayfrom that hit?” Kyle wanted to know. “The guy miss like the papersaid, or what?”
“Something like that.” Vic struck up a fast pace thatmade his co-worker wheeze to stay beside him as they crossed thelot. A few feet from his bus, Vic stopped, causing Kyle to skid inthe gravel. “Look, can we talk about this later? Because I have toget to work, unlike some people.”
“Sure,” Kyle replied, a bit too fast. Outside hisface scrunched up as he squinted against the sunshine, making himlook like a chubby Gilbert Gottfried. His constant, annoyingpresence, unending prattle, and God-awful laugh completed thepicture. Not for the first time, Vic wished the guy would justleave him alone.
He ramped up that thought, projected it into hisco-worker’s mind, and was rewarded with an unsteady chuckle. “Letme just leave you alone,” Kyle suggested. When he turned away, Vicsighed in relief. Thank you.
Half a step later, Kyle spun around to face himagain. Making an aggravated noise in the back of his throat, Vicclenched one hand into an unconscious fist. “What?”
“You said later.” Kyle grinned, his eyes disappearingbehind his balled up, ruddy cheeks. “Like tonight? Because—hey!Like a date or something, how’s that sound?”
“As if,” Vic snorted. Hello? Matt?
Kyle’s grin widened, if that were possible. “I meanlike a double date,” he explained. “You and me and our boys. I metthis guy last week—did I tell you?”
“No.” Vic didn’t think he had to add that he didn’tcare to know. His back to his co-worker as he headed for his busshould’ve been enough to clue Kyle in.
It wasn’t. Undeterred, Kyle called out to Vic. “Greatguy, you’d love him. No stealing this one from me, you hear?” AsVic started to climb the steps up to the driver’s seat of his bus,Kyle added, “Unless you want to swing a bit.”
Vic’s simmering anger threatened to boil over—he hadto grab the handrail to steady himself. To even suggestsharing Matt with…with anyone at all, to be honest. But withKyle? Oh, my ever-loving God.
The steel handrail squeezed in Vic’s tightening fistas a flash of power surged through him. Metal squealed as ittwisted like bunched cloth in his grip. With all the mental energyhe could gather, Vic sent one thought across the distance to poundat Kyle’s thick skull. ::I’ll swing my fist in your fat face ifyou don’t shut the fuck up.::
Over his shoulder, Vic saw Kyle stagger beneath theweight of that thought, a look of surprise on his squishedfeatures. When he spoke, his voice shook slightly. “You think aboutit,” he said with a nod. “Maybe Friday?”
Releasing the handrail, Vic sank into the driver’sseat behind the bus’s oversized steering wheel. An imprint of hishand was left behind in the distorted metal. As he reached for thedoor release, Kyle called out, “Maybe over the weekend? Let meknow.”
Vic yanked the door shut in reply.
* * * *
No one on his route recognized him from the paper.Vic told himself no one would—Kyle knew Matt and, despite his dumbact, he’d put two and two together to realize the guy who got shotmust’ve been Vic. None of the fares who rode his bus knew aboutMatt, or even bothered to see Vic as someone with a life outside ofhis job. None of them cared.
But for the first hour or so into his shift, Vicwasted too much mental energy shuffling through the minds of hisfares, looking for an inkling of recognition or some off thought.Nothing surfaced. As the day wore on, Vic relaxed, checking atrandom to see if he were in someone’s mind. Halfway through hisfirst shift, there was a teenage girl who should’ve been inschool—she kept a wary eye on him throughout the length of herride, scared he’d call her out, but her tension disappeared whenshe exited at the bus stop in front of the mall.
No reporters snuck on his route to hound him. Nocalls for comment; though his cell phone rested in a holster at hiswaist, it didn’t ring once all day. And when Vic finally headedback to the terminal to clock out a few minutes shy of midnight,the cars and vans that had lined the road earlier were gone.
Thank you.
Despite the late hour, the garage behind the terminalwas well lit, each tiny stone on the gravel-strewn pavement throwninto stark relief by the banks of stadium lights illuminating thelot. The shadows between the buses were deep and impenetrable. Vicused his mind to probe into their dark depths to ensure no one hidthere, waiting. I’m