Commuted Proteolysis

“Don’t you dare come any closer!” Amy shrieked as the snap clasp opened and she drew the gun-shaped taser from its holster in a rehearsed, fluid motion. She held it out securely in both hands, finger on the trigger, pointed directly at her ambusher. Searing hot fear rushed through her veins and her instincts screamed at her to RUN!

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.” The black and white jackal stared at her impassively as he leaned against a tree trunk, his hands in the pockets of his poofy dark blue jacket. A blocky emblem was stitched into the breast that Amy couldn’t make out other than a large red ‘B’. He wore a ballcap and Amy knew the logo from the company’s terrible packaging choices. Starline Pharmaceuticals.

What? Why was she seeing that company everywhere? It was like fate was mocking her, shoving her difficulties into her face! She forced away the thought because she currently had much more important things to focus on. “That draw wasn’t half bad on the backend.” The man who used to be known as Infinite quirked a brow.

“I’ll scream! I mean it!” Amy’s mouth was dry and her pulse pounded in her ears, a rapid rushing sound, as if prompting her feet to match the beat as she fled. Her mind had devolved into a battlefield of competing urges. To run away as fast as she could, to submit to the Alpha, to advance and eliminate the threat, to scream bloody murder. With effort, she remained still, observant, and alert.

I am in control.

Intentionality created reality.

The jackal huffed derisively. “Yeah, that’ll really bother the five squirrels and three birds who’ll hear you.” He grimaced. “Shit, I mean- Yeah, sure, do what you want, but I’m not gonna do anything to warrant you getting all bent out of shape, sweetpea.”

Amy brandished the taser. “Try anything and I’ll give you the shock of your life!” She bluffed with more forceful venom than she could back up. She knew he was out of range, but maybe he didn’t know that.

“Doubtful.” The Alpha snorted. “Also, I’m about three meters out of range of a little civvy zapper like that one” Well, shit! “and back in the day I could take a shock like that to the heart and keep trucking just fine, but that’s neither here nor there.” He shook his head. “Fuck, what I mean is, I’ve got no intention of coming any closer, so you might as well ditch the twitch switch before you hurt yourself.” The ex-convict looked like the words tasted fowl in his mouth. “Goddamn it, why is this so hard? What the fuck is wrong with you?” He mumbled, seemingly to himself.

“You think I don’t know how to use this?” Amy forced herself to take a step forward even as her body screamed in protest. Her bristled quills pressed against her hood and her puffed fur made her clothes feel tighter, more confining, restrictive. Was she getting enough air? It didn’t feel like she was getting enough air. Her fingers were starting to hurt from gripping the handle so tightly. My actions are deliberate.

Breathe, Amy reminded herself. I know this panic is unhelpful. She felt like the ground was trying to toss her off her feet, but she knew that was just the dizziness caused by her hyperventilation. Amy knew well every sign and symptom of her body in abject turmoil, and she possessed the experience to reject them all. I am not my impulses. I will not be defined by my biology. I am not my body.

Liam rolled his eyes and sighed. “Look, cupcake, I just came over to introduce myself, okay? Just say hi, is all, right? This doesn’t have to be dramatic.” He slipped his hands out of his pockets and held them up. His claws were visible through the thin, cheap cotton. “I’ll even put them behind my head if that’ll calm you down.”

I am calm! Amy frowned, but didn’t lower her stun gun. Breathe. “This is public land.” I am not prey. Her heartrate was slowing. The tunneling in her vision eased. Her lips still felt a little numb, but that would fade. The chill of the autumn breeze bit through her clothing and she began to shiver as her adrenaline ebbed. “I have every right to be here.” I will not be cowed.

Liam Null smiled. It was a crooked, pained thing, old and shabby, like it had been pulled out of a deep closet after a decade of disuse. “You sure do, shortstack. You sure do.”

Amy swallowed down the lump in her throat. “And we’re still inside City limits.” Her words were becoming easier to release, weightier, fuller. “It’s a single-party consent territory. I can take pictures of whoever I want.”

“Again, no contest.” He slowly lowered his hands. “If you’re gonna just state the obvious till the sun goes down, do you mind if I smoke?” Amy but the inside of her cheek, but kept her grip on the taser handle tight. “I’m going to reach into my back pocket, okay? See? Real slow-like.”

What was she doing? What was really going on right now? Amy’s mind raced in circles, rapidly swinging between terror of being cornered and horror of how silly she must look. If anyone came upon them right now, she’d look like the unhinged one, the dangerous one. A small part of Amy seemed pleased with the prospect. A stranger stumbling into the scene would be wary of her.

But that wasn’t important right now. She needed to focus. Determine a course of action.

Infinite was a convicted criminal and ex-gang member. A dangerous Alpha with an establish history of violence. A known threat to society. He had been lying in wait for her. He was standing between her and the way she’d leave, pining her in. Everything she knew about him told her he was vicious predator then, now, and forever. Everyone knew incarceration only made people worse.

Liam Null had just been released from spending nearly the entirety of his adult life in a concrete box for a crime he’d committed barely out of adolescence. The world was different in strange ways and apathetic towards his predicament and confusion. He was all alone and no one wanted him near, as Amy had born witness to. An Alpha without his Omega was hardly an Alpha at all. And someone was paying good money to have his every struggle recorded.

And now Amy was holding him at something adjacent to gunpoint because he had the audacity to confront his stalker and offer her a coffee. What was she doing? Was she…was she the one in the wrong right now?

“’Sides, you’ve got maybe thirty, forty seconds before them skinny little arms give out.” A fang slipped loose of his condescending smirk.

Amy gulped. Her arms were getting very tired, very quickly holding the stun gun aloft. “People know where I am.” She lied. The idea of someone, anyone tracking her movements made her skin scrawl. And then the irony of how that’s exactly what she was being paid to do to Liam hit her and she had to shelve that shame for a later date. “They’ll notice I’m missing and know you were involved.”

“Gumdrop, I sure as hell hope someone’s got your back. You’d be seriously stupid doin’ what your doin’ otherwise.” Amy hopped her hood hid the embarrassed flush on her cheeks.

Her arms were starting to really scream. Amy needed to make the decision to escalate or back down. Slowly she lowered her weapon, but kept it at the ready to be raised again. “Like I said, this is public property.” She repeated. “You can do whatever you want within reason.”

The monochromatic mammal snorted, his hand disappearing behind him. Amy flinched, but remained rooted, her vision focusing on a potential threat emerging. “You can always do whatever you want, sugarplum.” He produced a crumpled pack of smokes and corner store lighter. Amy relaxed and felt foolish. “The question is if you get punished for what you end up doing.”

He shook out a cigarette and placed it between his lips. “I ain’t pissed at you or nothing, by the way.” He said through crooked lips as he lit the cigarette.

Amy’s brow cinched. “W-what?”

“For following me around all sneaky-like. Getting all up in my business.” When Amy grimaced, he added, “Don’t beat yourself up. I’ve got an eye for shit like this. I dunno what all you know about me from back in the day, but let’s just say I know how to work with shadows.” A shiver ran down Amy’s spine and she gripped the stun gun’s handle tighter.

Noticing her discomfort, he shook his head and cursed himself again quietly. “Anyway, I’m not mad, gross as it is. Fuck, now that I think about it,” His heterochromic eyes, one yellow, the other blue, lost focus, “kinda comforting if I’m being honest.” Amy grimaced and she felt herself shrinking inwards, alarm bells in the back of her mind starting to vibrate again at the strangely intimate admission. She did not like to adjacent to such sentiments. Not from him, not from anyone. Unless it was Sh- “Reminds me of home, in a messed up sorta way. No privacy in the joint.”

Again, Amy had to shovel away a drift of shame. “Home?” She felt her heart clench. “You mean prison?”

Liam blew out a long stream of smoke. “That’s fucked up, isn’t it? Being homesick for a cell where you’re always being watched?” He snorted. “I keep getting sidetracked. Whats I was trying to get at is you can take a million pictures of me, girlie. I don’t give a fuck. The last fucking thing I’m gonna do is reoffend. I might miss that box, in some weird fucking way, but I’m not going back. Not today, not in a million years, you hear me?” He jabbed a thumb at his chest. “I am rehabilitated.” He said with a bit of mocking derision.

As much as she felt like it, Amy couldn’t let her guard down. “If you’re so changed then why is someone wanting to keep tabs on you?”

Laim smirked. “Why indeed. I know who I work for and I know who you work for. Let’s just say someone is covering all their bases.”

“Who I work for?” Amy frowned.

“Naw, naw, I don’t mean whoever’s signing your checks or slipping you bills under the table, or whatever. I’m talking about the real fucks at the top of the food chain. The big swinging dicks. I’d bet you dollars to donuts you haven’t got a clue who looks at your pretty picture of little, harmless, old me.”

He was right. She didn’t. “Our clients are confidential.” Amy found herself saying, a bit defensively. Should she be more curious about who Vector’s clients were? Vector had always been good to her. Though…he had said he’d stopped looking into the details of Liam’s release, so he must have found something he didn’t like.

“Convenient that. But, hey, that means you and me ain’t got any beef, you feel me? We’re just itty bitty cogs trying to make enough scratch to keep turning another day. I mean, if either of us had anything better, we wouldn’t be here. So, might as well be all neighborly about it. I do my job, you do yours, everyone gets to eat. Sounds like a great plan, right?” He gave her a crooked smile again. “Keeping eyes on me can’t be particularly interesting, and I sure as hell mean to keep it that way.”

The idea was inviting, Amy couldn’t deny. The arrangement he proposed had a harmony to it that was downright appealing. Still- “You tried to kill someone. Premeditated.”

The jackal snorted, a puff of smoke issuing from his snout. “Oh, don’t get me wrong pinkypie. I’ll be real honest with you. I’ve done in plenty of undeserving blokes. Never lost a wink of sleep, never got even a slap on the wrist about it ‘cuz I never shat where I ate.” He laughed, short, gasping, mirthless snorts. “I only got tossed into the house when I fucked up killing the first person in my crosshairs who actually deserved it.”

Amy shifted uncomfortably. Did he…Did he just admit to murder?

“But that’s ancient history, lollipop. I ain’t that cocksure son of a bitch anymore.” He looked away, his lips contorting at the memory. “I was young and dumb and thought I could fuck the world. I had a great girl and was stacking paper like we might could have that two car garage, picket fence kinda life.”

Liam Null exhaled a thin, steady stream of smoke. “Now I got shit all and I sit in a little box getting paid nothing to look at a bigger box. But,” He grinned sadly, “I don’t gotta wear a muzzle to get within five feet of another body and I can see the sky whenever I want, so I’d say things are pretty peachy, all considered.”

Her ears wilted slightly in the hood pockets. “You…you had to wear a muzzle?” Amy knew the penitentiary system was bicameral, with separate facilities for Alphas while Omegas and Betas were allowed to mix. However, she had never considered what that separation meant. But muzzles? That couldn’t be, right? That was…unconscionable.

Liam’s ears tipped back slightly. “But don’t worry your little Beta brain about Alpha max, sweetcheeks. That’s a horror show you’ll never have to watch….” He glanced away, a mix of sadness and disgust curling his lip. “And, believe me, you’re better just not thinking about it.”

“I’ve seen you. You don’t do well in crowds…That’s because of the smells, right?”

“Fuck, I hate that.” Liam grimaced. “I’ve been breathing industrial strength institutional deodorizer for so long, I can’t fucking stand how smelly the real world is. Drives me nuts. Can’t stand being inside hardly. Makes my head spin.”

“Why don’t you wear a mask?” Sure, it wasn’t common for Alpha’s to mask, but if the smells of others bothered him that much, appearances seemed a small concern in comparison.

The jackal tensed, his hackles rising, and his eyes went wild. “I’d rather die than ever be masked again!” He hissed, lips curled to reveal his fangs, and he took a single step towards her.

The aggression hit Amy like a tidal wave, and she struggled to not be swept away. She took a step back and raised the taser once more, fresh adrenaline cutting through the ache in her arms.

Laim’s ears laid back, “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t- Look, I just don’t like thinking about it. I’m sorry, okay? For snapping and shit.” He shook his head. “The point I was trying to make is I haven’t got any real fight left in me. The system broke my fangs and snipped my claws.” He grinned slightly. “They would have taken my fucking dick, too, probably, if I’d ever whipped it out.”

Amy inwardly curled once more. Slowly she lowered her weapon. Confusion reigned inside her head. Sympathy and fear. Desire and revulsion. Flattery and indignation. I am in control, she reminded herself. I will not freeze or run out of fear. Affirmations the logical part of her brain tried to insert into the madness like partitions, demanding order.

The ex-convict shook his head. “Look, I’ve said my piece.” He threw the cigarette on the ground and pressed it out with the toe of his boot. Amy’s gaze flicked down to it, a strange sense of civic duty making her confirm he wasn’t about to start a fire with the drought dried leaves. “Thanks for listening, I guess. It was…nice talking to someone for once…even if, you know, it was like this.” He said in a guarded voice. He looked up and met her eyes, “Enjoy your coffee, buttercream. I don’t know what you’d like, but broads like sweet shit so I got something that sounded more like desert than coffee.”

The emotions coiling in Amy were difficult to get a hand on. Her suspicion slipped through her fingers. “You probably spiked it.” Amy regretted the words the moment they left her mouth. She didn’t like the person she was acting as, but she wasn’t sure what to do otherwise.

He gave a great guffaw that revealed his sharp canines once more. “Do you think you live in a fucking spy novel, minimuffin? I just got out the slammer. Why the fuck would I go back over some skinny, pink broad? Spiked. That’s a good one. You know how much more a loaf of bread is now than a dime ago?” Amy grimaced, but the jackal pressed, “More. Doesn’t matter how much, just that it’s more and the minimum wage isn’t. Shit, I wish I had the money for crap like that, ‘cuz I’d spend on something else.”

The ex-convict started snickering. “Damn, you made me laugh good. I’mma take off on a high note.” He turned and raised his hand in a casual wave. “Drink it or don’t. Come back or don’t. No skin off my nose. I’ll be where I’ve been, when I’m supposed to be there.” Liam Null left.

Amy watched him thread through the trees back to the footbridge over the river. She pulled out her camera and affixed the telescopic lens. A series of shots captured him going over the bridge and back to his security booth. Before entering, he turned and looked in her direction. Through the lens, she saw him smirk and wave. Then he disappeared inside.

What was she going to do now? She should be on the phone with Vector already as she ran at a dead sprint back to the bus stop. Amy bit her lip. But then she’d be off the job and out of a descent paycheck. And Vector would probably never give her another assignment if she got clocked so badly. And for what? Sure, the target knew he was being tailed…but that wasn’t really a deal breaker. Vector had eyes on Liam most hours of the day and night.

Should she call the police? The very idea clenched her jaw. Absolutely no good would come from involving the authorities. The man hadn’t broken any laws and the whole ordeal would come down to he said, she said. If anything, Amy had been unlawfully imprisoning him. She’d been the one with the weapon out. Further, any police report would require herself to identify herself, and she didn’t even have her real ID on her. Hell, having her fake one instead would rise all sorts of suspicions. She’d have no credibility, and her name would be out there.

And there was the risk that the 21 law would be brought to bare against her.

No.

No police.

The fear of being known curled around her like a vice. The fear of the thin façade she built for herself crumbling. Everything she worked for, all the sacrifices she made for her freedom. It was nearly more than she could bear. Amy’s throat constricted and she had to take a few labored breaths.

No. Absolutely nothing good would come from drawing attention to this incident. She needed the money and she didn’t need the scrutiny. Liam was right. Neither of them would be here if they had something better to do. Amy swallowed away the lump.

Amy looked at the coffee cup. The red cup just sat there. She’d been afraid, terrified even, of a stupid coffee cup, one just like literally billions of others, on a park bench. Amy sank into the seat, set down her camera, and finally slipped her backpack off her shoulders.

She ran her hands through her quills and pushed back her hood.

What. The. Fuck.

Her head felt fuzzy. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, trying to make some space for coherent thoughts. Separating her preconceptions from her actual observations was a muddy chore, but, resigned to just letting the incident go, she had hours to work with. After enduring the shock of discovery and fighting her flight instincts into submission, Amy was exhausted. She needed a pick-me-up.

Amy picked up the coffee cup and took a sip.

The pumpkin spice latte was cold.