Bait and Catch

Suspense Stories | Aug 19, 2012 | 4 min read
20 Votes, average: 3 out of 5
Suspense Stories

Bait and Catch

I'm pathetic, this date is a disaster.
She doesn't even seem interested in me. Not that I blame her, I'm 42 years old, I don't know how to choose a good cologne and I didn't even bother ironing my shirt.
I wouldn't even be here on this date if I didn't feel I was running out of time. The older I get, the harder it's going to be to find someone.

Her name is Allison. We met in the parking lot of the grocery store. A rouge cart was heading towards her car and I stopped it just in time before it dinged her passenger door.
I got that feeling all men get when they do something to help or protect a woman. I felt like a super hero. I puffed my chest a little, that interference with disaster made me feel like James fucking Bond. I grabbed the cart and aggressively shoved the cart into the bushes a few yards away.
Allison closed the trunk of her car and just laughed, amused by my abundant pride, saying "Take it easy, the cart didn't want trouble."

Maybe I'm a masochist, the way that Allison mocking me led us to this date. This horrible, horrible date. Or maybe I'm just desperate at this point.
I'm an antisocial guy. Just seeing Allison play with her caper salmon entree makes me nauseous. That's how pathetic I am.
We keep talking about light subjects, we're both clearly bored.

Just don't ask about my family.

I come from a big family. Really big. TLC-Network-Reality-Show Big.
Fact is, I'm such a loser, I still live at home. With my big family. My big family that I hate.
At home with my family, there's no chance of meeting someone. Maybe that's why I haven't given up on this date. I need this.

Allison excuses herself to use the ladies room. She's dressed like she really tried tonight. She really wanted this to go well too. Too bad I'm such a loser. She didnt know what she signed up for.

My family owns an apartment complex by the pier. 33 of us live there.
The younger ones are homeschooled, the older ones keep busy in the workshop. That horrible workshop we built in the boathouse.
We make money by making and packaging chum and bait for the fishermen around here. It's big business. The downside? Making chum and bait is disgusting.
Leaving the complex for good is possible, but with all things in life, it comes with a price.
Just a family tradition.

Allison returns to the table, she's going to go home if I don't step up my game.
I order drinks. That should help us loosen up a bit.
Time goes by and she and I start actually enjoying conversation. I even notice her body language change. She's leaning in, her arms are uncrossing.

My family has strict rules, lots of restrictions. Maybe it's how we've all been raised, maybe it's fear, but we all understand these rules. We all obey them.
At 42, I'm past ready to live on my own. But I just never had the nerve.
The complex drives a guy crazy, everyone's in your business, there's no escape, no privacy from each other. The only place to be alone is during my shift in the workshop. And that happens to be my least favorite part of the day.

It's getting late, the restaurant is going to close soon. I need to make my move.
Allisons touched my arm enough times in the past hour for me to know she's not completely creeped out by me.

My family is not a cult. We don't do this for religion. We don't follow anyone. It's just for money.
And no, my family is not in the Mob. Not exactly.
It's tough not to know the Mob in this city. But lately the Mob has been behaving, there's been no messes, no hits.
Enter Allison.

We step outside of the restaurant, start saying our goodbyes. The night turned out well, so well, Allison leaned in for a kiss.
"Let's go back to my place."
Allison hesitates.
This moment is lasting a millennium.
"Fine. Only so I can show you how to iron this piece of garbage shirt." Allison laughs, showing that sass that made me ask her out in the first place.

A few days before my date with Allison I sat down with one of the elders.
I heard this conversation would be awkward but part of me never thought I would have the balls to be part of it.
The elder of the complex explained to me that he reviewed my application for leaving the complex. And an opporitunity has presented itself.
It's been a few months since the Mob took care of someone they disagreed with.
No, my family doesn't kill people for gangsters.
But we're running out of stock. This happens time to time.
The Mob has an agreement with my family. They pay for the Apartment Complex, they pay for our water, gas, electric bills. We just have to get rid of the bodies for them. The bodies of the people that pissed them off, did them wrong, owed and never payed.
And that's what happens in the workshop. We make chum, we make bait. A new way of "sleeping with the fishes."

But when people respect and pay back the Mob, our chum and bait stock goes down.
Fishermen ask questions, we don't want any attention.

So, yes, any of us can leave the complex. But only when stocks are low.
We can leave the complex and never go in the workshop again, never put that God awful bait in the styrofoam ice chests for the fishermen ever again.

But before we go, we have to bring home someone to fill the stock.
And once we leave, we all know to keep quiet. The Mob watches us for the rest of our lives. Fish only get caught when they open their mouths.

Allison and I get back to my place.
She's drunk and wobbly, I lead her to the workshop.
It's all business.

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Reviews

Karley Aug 23, 2012

You** had me hooked. Loved it!!

Cody Aug 31, 2012

Thanks! :)

Karley Aug 23, 2012

Who had me hooked. Loved it!!

Qasim Aug 21, 2012

suspense to a new level here I love it, "it's just bussiness" Beautiful!!

Cody Aug 31, 2012

I really appreciate it!

Qasim Aug 31, 2012

my pleasure friend good luck for your next story :-)

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