I still had his car, and I told Ava I was bringing it back to him tonight.
She’d asked about my talk with Sergeant Nash, and I told her it went fine. I’d be starting my new job on Monday. When I finished speaking, she’d leaned in close to me and whispered, “Thank you.”
It was a sweet sound that I felt deep inside. I knew if things didn’t work out and I wound up losing her, that whisper would stay with me for the rest of my life.
Some things are like that, whether you want them to be or not.
~
The parking lot across from the Belmont Hotel sat in the shade of several willow trees. The streetlights shone through the trees, creating pools of light and dark.
I waited in the dark with Marcus’s .44.
When I gave Max Stover the address for the hotel, I told him to meet me in the lobby at eleven.
It was five till.
I started to worry. What if he’d parked somewhere else? What if he didn’t come alone. I knew a guy like Max Stover didn’t need a body guard, but it was something I hadn’t considered.
At exactly eleven o’clock, a gray Mercedes pulled into the parking lot and parked in the far corner. Max got out, alone. He looked smaller than when I saw him at the Body Shop. He’d been sitting down that time, but I’d still expected him to be bigger.
As he got closer to where I stood, I felt a rush of confidence. I waited until he walked past me toward the hotel’s backdoor, then I stepped out and pressed the gun into his back. “Don’t make any sudden—”
Max spun around –fast, grabbing my hand that held the gun. I felt his other hand press up under my chin and one leg come in behind both of mine and sweep them out from under me. There was a sick feeling of detachment as I fell backward, then my head struck the pavement and flowers bloomed electric behind my eyes.
My ears were ringing and I couldn’t focus. I pushed myself up onto my knees and saw Max standing over me. He had the gun. He pulled the clip with the grace of a man used to handling guns and shook his head. “What the fuck were you planning?”
I lost my wind when I hit the pavement, and I struggled to breathe. When I did, I said, “You tried to blow up the diner.”
“Is that what this is about?” He kicked me and I felt the toe of his boot connect with my ribs. Something popped inside, and the pain screamed across my chest. “That shit-hole restaurant?”
He grabbed my hair and forced the barrel of the gun into my mouth, snapping off a piece of a tooth. I felt it slide between my tongue and my cheek and into the back of my throat. I swallowed.
“You pull a gun on me?” He was shouting. “Over some fucking diner?”
My eyes crossed, and I couldn’t see. My ears were ringing and I felt my bladder let go. When Max noticed he took the gun out of my mouth and stepped back.
“You’re a pathetic piece of shit.” He spit and I felt in land in my hair. “If I see you again, I’ll fucking kill you.”
He turned back toward the grey Mercedes, and that was when I found my voice. “Why?”
Max turned and swung the gun, hitting me in the face. I felt my nose go, and the world exploded in light. I fell forward and blood pooled under me.
Max grabbed my hair and leaned in close, shouting. The noise in my head was too loud, and his words were lost in the roar. Blood ran down the back of my throat and I coughed. Max pulled away –fast, letting me fall.
And this time, in darkness, there was no ground to catch me.
~
“Jack?”
The voice seemed too far off to be aimed at me. I was lost somewhere else, adrift in the haze.
“Jack, can you hear me?”
The voices moved closer. I tried to open my eyes, and the light dug into my brain. The pain seemed to come from everywhere at once. I pushed myself up. “Wh—”
Someone put a hand on my chest. “Easy,
She’d asked about my talk with Sergeant Nash, and I told her it went fine. I’d be starting my new job on Monday. When I finished speaking, she’d leaned in close to me and whispered, “Thank you.”
It was a sweet sound that I felt deep inside. I knew if things didn’t work out and I wound up losing her, that whisper would stay with me for the rest of my life.
Some things are like that, whether you want them to be or not.
~
The parking lot across from the Belmont Hotel sat in the shade of several willow trees. The streetlights shone through the trees, creating pools of light and dark.
I waited in the dark with Marcus’s .44.
When I gave Max Stover the address for the hotel, I told him to meet me in the lobby at eleven.
It was five till.
I started to worry. What if he’d parked somewhere else? What if he didn’t come alone. I knew a guy like Max Stover didn’t need a body guard, but it was something I hadn’t considered.
At exactly eleven o’clock, a gray Mercedes pulled into the parking lot and parked in the far corner. Max got out, alone. He looked smaller than when I saw him at the Body Shop. He’d been sitting down that time, but I’d still expected him to be bigger.
As he got closer to where I stood, I felt a rush of confidence. I waited until he walked past me toward the hotel’s backdoor, then I stepped out and pressed the gun into his back. “Don’t make any sudden—”
Max spun around –fast, grabbing my hand that held the gun. I felt his other hand press up under my chin and one leg come in behind both of mine and sweep them out from under me. There was a sick feeling of detachment as I fell backward, then my head struck the pavement and flowers bloomed electric behind my eyes.
My ears were ringing and I couldn’t focus. I pushed myself up onto my knees and saw Max standing over me. He had the gun. He pulled the clip with the grace of a man used to handling guns and shook his head. “What the fuck were you planning?”
I lost my wind when I hit the pavement, and I struggled to breathe. When I did, I said, “You tried to blow up the diner.”
“Is that what this is about?” He kicked me and I felt the toe of his boot connect with my ribs. Something popped inside, and the pain screamed across my chest. “That shit-hole restaurant?”
He grabbed my hair and forced the barrel of the gun into my mouth, snapping off a piece of a tooth. I felt it slide between my tongue and my cheek and into the back of my throat. I swallowed.
“You pull a gun on me?” He was shouting. “Over some fucking diner?”
My eyes crossed, and I couldn’t see. My ears were ringing and I felt my bladder let go. When Max noticed he took the gun out of my mouth and stepped back.
“You’re a pathetic piece of shit.” He spit and I felt in land in my hair. “If I see you again, I’ll fucking kill you.”
He turned back toward the grey Mercedes, and that was when I found my voice. “Why?”
Max turned and swung the gun, hitting me in the face. I felt my nose go, and the world exploded in light. I fell forward and blood pooled under me.
Max grabbed my hair and leaned in close, shouting. The noise in my head was too loud, and his words were lost in the roar. Blood ran down the back of my throat and I coughed. Max pulled away –fast, letting me fall.
And this time, in darkness, there was no ground to catch me.
~
“Jack?”
The voice seemed too far off to be aimed at me. I was lost somewhere else, adrift in the haze.
“Jack, can you hear me?”
The voices moved closer. I tried to open my eyes, and the light dug into my brain. The pain seemed to come from everywhere at once. I pushed myself up. “Wh—”
Someone put a hand on my chest. “Easy,
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