The Killing Bind

Chapter 12: Names

Atticus Berk convinced Christopher Martin to come with him. Berk was not confident about him coming with him, but he didn't like seeing someone being wrongly incarcerated. Kit. That is what he said Berk to call him.

"You have your keys on you?" Berk asked.

"Yeah, why?" Kit replied.

"Let's go to your car."

Berk and Kit walked to Kit's car.

"Get in." Berk said.

They both got in. Berk sat on the passenger seat. Kit started the car and looked at Berk.

"I need you to drive behind that building. No headlights." Berk said pointing to a building.

Kit did as he was told.

They both got out of the car. Berk gestured Kit to follow him, which he did. Berk saw that Kit was still not sure to trust him. A part of him wanted to trust him and get him out of this mess. Berk and Kit walked to the Lincoln MKX. Berk got his keys out of his back pocket and looked around. He opened the car and got in. Then gestured to Kit to get in.

Kit sat in, and asked, "What about my car?"

"It's better to drop it somewhere. You can't go in your own car. They might of already have your plate number and track you." Berk said.

Kit nodded unapprovingly.

"I need you to trust me." Berk said as he started the car. He has not done this before. He works mostly alone. He does work with people like him. But this time, he felt like he needed to help him.

Berk changed the gear to reverse and began driving. He was looking around for people. There were none. Which was good. Berk kept his eyes on the road.

"Why are you helping me?" Kit asked.

"I'm not helping you; I'm correcting a mistake or..." Berk said.

"Or what?"

"Or you were framed, either on purpose or you just got unlucky."

"Who are you?"

"I told you who I am. I need to know who you are. We will be seeing each other for a while."

"What do you mean, we are going to be working together."

"I don't know, yet. You say you are innocent; I believe you, there is someone who did this, I need to know who it is."

"Why do you need to prove anything, you are not connected to anything that happened."

"Now, I am."

Berk kept driving.

"Where are we going?" Kit asked.

"I don't know, a motel or somewhere." Berk said.

"Who are you?"

"Atticus Berk."

"I know that. Who are you, really?"

"A man who is going to save your life."

Kit didn't say anything.

"Who are you?" Berk asked.

"You know me." Kit replied.

"I only know your name. I don't know anything else."

"I'm Kit."

"Why Kit, Chris is more fitting."

"I used to be called Chris, then some of my friend started calling me Kit after the release of game of thrones. So, I stuck with it."

Berk didn't say anything, just kept driving north.

"Who are you, private detective or something." Kit asked.

"Something." Berk answered.

"Ok."

"What do you do?"

"I am an accountant."

Berk understood this is what he odes now, but he wanted to know, what he wanted to do.

"What do you really do?" Berk asked.

Kit smiled, "I'm a writer. I write scripts for movies. Well, want to."

Berk nodded. He was putting his life story together. So, he could have a better understanding of the guy.

"Where is your family?" Kit asked.

At first Berk didn't know why he asked, but then he understood. He looked at his hand and saw the diamond wedding ring. Berk didn't reply.

"What do you do for a living?" Kit asked.

"Nothing. Used to be FBI." Berk replied.

"What happened." Kit asked.

Berk didn't reply.

They reached a small motel. The sign read good motel. People coming up with names are becoming sloppy these days, thought Berk.

"Come with me." Berk said.

They both walked towards the entrance. Berk stopped Kit.

"I need you to go in alone. Rent one room. Not under your name, under another." Berk said.

"How about identification?" Kit asked.

"The place looks old, they probably won't. You have money one you right." Berk said.

"Yes, why?" Kit said.

"Pay them extra if they ask. Do you have credit card on you?" Berk asked.

"Yes." Kit replied.

"Don't use it."

Berk saw Kit go in. He waited outside for twenty minutes. At the same time, he was looking around. Looking if anyone is looking at them. There was no one, except a homeless man. Berk went up to him and dropped twenty dollars.

Berk got in and went to the counter. It was a lady. Which was good. The males are the tough ones. Woman can be tough. But men are just stupid. They do things they are not supposed to do.

"I need one room." Berk said to the lady. She was about twenty-one and sported a grey T-shirt.

"Identification." The lady asked as she chewed chewing gum.

"Let's leave that for now." Berk stared at her smiling.

"Sure, but you got to give me something." She smiled.

Berk paid for the room and a little extra and wrote down a name on the piece of paper which everyone who books a room should write. He wrote down Earvin Johnson.

Earvin "Magic" Johnson Jr. was an American retired professional basketball player and former president of basketball operations of the Los Angeles Lakers of the National Basketball Association. He played point guard for the Lakers for 13 seasons. Berk really liked the player.

Berk then looked up on the name just above his. He saw that Kit wrote down Ashiq Shan. Which was a Muslim name. He didn't know why he wrote this, then again, he didn't know many things about him. Then he saw a familiar name. He smiled and began walking up the stairs.

"The name's Mandy by the way." The lady shouted.

"Uh?" Berk turned back; he was still smiling.

"My name, it's Mandy." The lady said.

"Thank you, Mandy." Berk said.

The smile faded from her face somewhat disappointed.

Berk continued up the stairs. He reached the floor and walked to the end of the lobby. His room number was 10. He saw Kit's room number was 5 and the name he smiled at was  room 1.

Berk opened his door with the keys that were given to him by the woman. he got in and placed the keys on the table beside the door and closed the door.

He lay on the worn out motel bed and looked up at the ceiling.