The car ride was silent as I rode in the passenger seat of Dieter's low-grade SUV. The dent in the side made it hard to open the door, so he had to open my door for me from the inside. Tan interior matched well with the red exterior but didn't cover the mud stains from living out in the middle of the woods.

"So, vhy do you want to return to your apartment?" Dieter finally broke the silence of the dark car.

The large buildings cast a shadow as blinks of lights from the streetlamps flickered by as he drove down the empty streets.

"My cat," I said, looking from the window over at him. "I can't leave him with Roy."

Dieter shifted in his seat, pulling off to the side of my building. He pointed across me with his gross finger near my face. "Take the alley vnd go up to your fire escape."

"I know," I replied with an attitude.

"Royce won't be vhere." Dieter's words made me upset. "He left a few days after he villed you and hadn't returned."

"Of course he did," I said, shaking my head while opening the door. "I'll be back in ten minutes. Don't follow me."

"As you vish, Princess." I slammed the door, hearing him curse in the car as I walked away.

Seattle streets were empty this early in the morning. The mist in the air told me it was about to rain as I pulled my hood over my head. I strolled around the corner, looking up at my balcony. It was pitch black, with a tint of red beaming through the window. The little apple night light in my bedroom mocked me.

I looked around before sneaking up to the ladder. I jumped, trying to snag the bottom as the metal step was too far from my grasp. Annoyance filled my soul, huffing an icy breath. I glanced closer at my hand, noticing my finger was still missing. I gazed around to see if I could step up onto something when a quiet noise from a cat was meowing.

With my attention on where the crying cat was coming from, I walked, peeking around the other side of the building. Duff paced around the door that led to the stairs.

The thought of Roy leaving Duff outside boiled my blood. This man was digging his own grave as we know it. Slowly, I walked toward my baby when the door to the building opened. A woman with a bowl stepped up to Duff, crouching, causing me to hide behind a dumpster. As she fed him, her face looked up at the building light, showing me it was my neighbor from below.

I watched as she leaned closer to Duff, petting him until he was comfortable with her. She was whispering to him, telling him about her day. I smiled, hoping she had been watching him since my passing. Lost in the view before me until a hand gripped my upper arm, making me jump, hitting my head on the dumpster.

I looked over quickly to see Dieter crouching with me, spying on my cat and neighbor.

"Vhat are you doing, Red?" he whispered while looking over. "Who is she?"

I shoved Dieter, causing him to tumble back, landing his ass in a rain puddle from earlier today. "That's for scaring me," I said, then pointed at my neighbor. "She's my neighbor from the floor below."

He crawled up closer to me. "Vhy she up so late?" Dieter shoved my shoulders. "Go get your vat."

I slapped his hand away. "I believe she works as a bartender. Not sure because I've never talked to her," I said, annoyed at him. "And I'm thinking if she takes Duff, I might let her have him for now." I shrugged my shoulders. "Given the situation, I am stuck in."

"Situation, what?" he responded. "I've given you a vecond chance."

Second chance? "Oh, just shut it, Dieter." I looked away from him. "I told you not to follow me," I said, watching my mystery neighbor pick up Duff and bring him into the building.

I didn't know her name or have any knowledge about her, but I knew she would give him a better life than living with dumbass Dieter. He saved my life or brought me back to life like I'm some build a bear, picking out parts to make me look better. I knew he had side alternatives to everything he was doing. He told me he was the bad guy, so what was he using me for?

I took in a deep breath, leaning against the dumpster. "So, tell me," I said, looking at Dieter. "What's your plan?"

"Vhat?"

"What?" I asked back, making it clear he said what. "You have someone you hate and want to kill, right?" I brushed my hand through my hair. "This is how every movie begins. You bring me back to life so I can do the dirty work for you."

Dieter scooted closer, sitting next to me. "Pat Bole," he said, making me look at him in shock.

"The Patrick Bole?" I asked. "He's our mega boss?"

"Vega boss?" he questioned me.

The name Pat Bole jogged my memory of seeing him on the Seattle news as the wealthiest man in the city. He surpassed Bill Gates by the billions when he came up with the cure for heart disease. He appeared out of nowhere with this miracle, winning Nobel prizes, becoming nothing into something.

"Why?" I asked. "He's like a hero, isn't he?"

"You-" Dieter replied until a loud bang on the dumpers shook our backs.

"Shut the fuck up out there. I'm trying to sleep!" someone yelled from inside the trash can.

Dieter hit the metal box back, angry. "Leck mich am arsch!" he yelled back in German.

I started laughing, pulling on Dieter's sleeve. "Here, help me," I whispered, not wanting to make the homeless guy angry. I pointed up with my missing finger. "Lift me up so I can grab the ladder."

Dieter bent his knees, wrapping his arms around my upper thighs, making his face right in my crotch.

"Don't get cozy there," I said with a smirk as he shook his head.

I reached up, gripping the ladder tight. "Okay," I said, letting Dieter know to set me down slowly, but he dropped me, stepping back. My knees buckled from the landing, sending me on my ass. He quickly climbed the metal steps before I could retaliate.

We both climbed through my window from the balcony into my cold apartment. Left exactly the same, which made sense because Roy wanted people to think I'm missing, so why would he pack up my things?

Dieter walked over to click on the lights, clearing my vision of things around me. I approached my room, grabbing a reusable bag to put my items in. As I walked back into the living room, Dieter held a picture of Roy and me from when we first met.

Dieter chucked the photo onto the ground as I grabbed a few books and a picture of Duff. "What does lack mick am arsh mean?"

"Leck mich am arsch," he corrected me. "It veans, lick my ass. Literally, vut could translate to kiss my ass."

"Okay," I giggled out. "And when am I going to get my finger back?" I asked, holding up my hand.

"Vuck," Dieter said in shock, reaching into his pocket. "Forgot I still vad this on me." He tossed me the finger on the couch, then headed toward my balcony. "Ve right back."

With Dieter gone, I glared at the picture he tossed on the ground, picking it up. Anger built up, and I threw it hard toward the wall. With my aim being terrible, the frame whacked Dieter in the chest as he climbed back into the apartment.

Dieter tried catching it as it fumbled around his hand. "Red, vhat the hell?"

I laughed, sitting on the perfect white couch. Once the fluffy fabric touched my body, I went into full self-pity mode, huffing out in annoyance.

"Why?" I yelled toward the ceiling.

Dieter sat next to me with a small bag. He fished his hands around the couch, grabbing my finger. I held my hand out for him to operate on it as Dieter set it on his thigh, shifting around the bag. Once he found what he was looking for, his eyes looked up at me through the blue tint of his glasses. His hand slowly lifted mine as he stabbed a needle into the base of my finger, putting salmon-colored liquid inside of me. The pressure built in my finger with zero pain.

"You know you vave been lucky," he said while sewing my finger back on.

"How is that?" I asked back with attitude.

"Voy could have killed you right away," he said, making me roll my eyes. "I've done my research on you." Dieter paused, looking up at me. "You had veen in the adoption system since you were five, when your mom passed away. You have vero family, vero friends, and all you do in life is work."

This man knows how to speak nicely to someone who's already had a shity life. "The word is zero, and fuck off, Dieter."

He kept working on my hand. "I'm not saying it's a vad thing." He looked back at me, setting my hand down on his leg. "I have vero family, vero friends, and all I do is work."

I looked away from his eyes. "Are we done here?"

Dieter stood up from the couch, waving his arms in the air. "Actually, ve staying here."

"Okay, but you get the couch," I said, walking toward my bedroom. "Good night, Dieter."

"Nacht," he replied, plopping onto the couch.

Thank you for reading.

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