The Kiss That Followed Me

-Mina- 

We get to the bar and the first thing Spot does is run behind the bar. Corey was waiting with a bone in hand already, “Hey big guy. Was wondering when your mama was bringing you to say hey to your family.” We laughed as I sat down. “What are you doing back here? I thought you were going to relax? I think you have an addiction to work, Mina.” I couldn’t help but smile. “Got hungry and wanted a beer and guess who is out of both at home?” Corey nodded, “well we got both, as you know. The usual?” nodding, he turned to grab me a beer. 

He popped the cap and slid the beer across the bar. “So, you’re going to tell me what’s really going on? Because even Spot knows you’ve been off.” I took a sip, letting the cold drink wash my thoughts away. “Just weird dreams, mostly. And that guy, Luciano. He kissed me.” Corey blinked. “Wait, what?” I laughed at the way he nearly dropped the glass he was cleaning. “Yeah. In the alley. Out of nowhere. Then walked off like it was a damn goodbye scene in a movie. That’s not even the worst part.”

I took a deep breath before telling him the rest. “He came in last night and held a gun up when I tried to call for an ambulance when I noticed he was shot. But then he let me help him, all I could think about was getting him out of here.” I sipped the beer again, and explained the rest to him up until the kiss again. Corey leaned on the bar, eyes narrowing. “So, let me get this straight, he comes in bleeding, points a gun at you, gets patched up, shows up the next day, and kisses you? Are you sure this isn’t some trauma response?”

“Probably,” I admitted, finishing half the bottle. “But it felt. Real. Too real. And it’s not just him. I’ve been dreaming about him, vivid stuff. Like he’s inside my head.” Corey raised a brow. “That’s not comforting.”

“No shit,” I muttered. We sat in silence for a moment, Spot chewing happily on his bone like the world wasn’t falling apart. Then Corey asked quietly, “You think he’s coming back?” I didn’t answer right away. I stared at the bubbles rising in the amber liquid, heart skipping as I remembered the feel of Luciano’s lips, the quiet promise in his voice.

“I think he never really left.” Before Corey could say more, the bell above the door jingled. Both our heads snapped toward it. A man in a dark suit stepped in, clean, sharp, eyes scanning the room like a man who never walked into a place without knowing the exits.

Not Luciano. But something told me, this wasn’t random. Corey gave me a look. “I’ll handle it,” I said quietly, straightening on the stool and setting the beer down. Just in case. 

The man said little. Just nodded once, then took a seat at the far end of the bar. His eyes swept the room, never settling, like he was cataloging every face, every shadow. Not a regular. Not here for the beer. I leaned across the bar toward him. “Fifteen minutes until the last call. Just so you know.” He met my eyes, calm, unreadable. “I won’t be long.” Something about the way he said it made my stomach tighten. I nodded and walked away. Corey leaned in, whispering, “Friend of our mysterious stranger?”

“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “But he’s not here to get drunk.” Corey didn’t press. He knew me well enough to sense when to back off. We cleaned up quietly as the last of the customers trickled out. By 1:10, the place was empty except for the man in the suit. When I rang the bell and shouted, “Last call!” he was already getting up to leave. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t look back. Just gone. Once the door was locked and the stools flipped, Corey gave Spot one last pat on the head. “I’ll close out the register. Are you good?”

“Yeah,” I said, glancing toward the back alley door. “Just gonna walk Spot.” 

“Night, Mins. And hey, if a weird dream guy shows up again? Don’t let him kiss you this time unless he buys a drink first.” I rolled my eyes, laughing under my breath. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Spot trotted beside me as I stepped out into the alley, the heavy door clicking shut behind me. The street was quiet, shadows thick between the buildings. My hand instinctively brushed the revolver tucked beneath my hoodie, just in case.

That’s when I saw him. The man from earlier, waiting at the mouth of the alley like he’d never left. Spot stopped, ears perked. I didn’t say a word. He approached slowly, not threatening, eliberate. “Luciano asked me to find you,” he said. His voice was smooth, like cold metal. “He’ll be in touch soon.”

My throat tightened. “Why not just come himself?”

“He’s, occupied,” the man said. “But he wanted you to have this.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small velvet pouch, pressing it into my hand before I could react. Inside was a bracelet. Delicate, silver, and somehow warm against my palm. A single charm hung from it, a wolf, small and fierce, its eyes etched in deep black stone. My heart thudded. Spot let out a low, curious growl. I looked up, but the man was already stepping away.

“Wait,” I called. “What does it mean?” He paused at the edge of the alley. “It means he’s not done with you yet.” Then he vanished into the dark, leaving me with more questions than answers, and a bracelet that felt like a chain. I stood there for a few moments. Spot, getting impatient, pulled me toward our apartment. We walked in silence. Luciano was heavy on my mind.

What the hell does he want with me? All I did was help. And it’s not like I had a choice, really. I thought to myself. Why did he send someone to give me this? I asked myself as I fumbled with the pouch in my hand.

Finally, at home, Spot makes himself comfortable on the couch while I clean myself up. Once I’m dressed, Spot and I curled up and put on a movie. The pouch sat on the coffee table, untouched. Sleep eventually came for the both of us, and this time it was peaceful, but sad.

Mom and dad visited my dreams. I was 10, and we were on the way back from vacation. That was the last one we took, together. Mom was riding in the passenger seat, listening to her favorite songs, singing along at the top of her lungs. I remember her turning to me saying, “Minnie Mo, we have got to go back one da-” and that is when I woke up. Covered in sweat, I sat up.

I haven’t had that dream in years. Why now? I thought to myself, I was going to change my clothes.