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position myself to the side, the helmet in my hands. I wait. Listening to the sounds of the casino, listening to the hushed murmur of disembodied voices, I can just hear the motorcycle approaching. I hear it shut off.  
    Roland’s man appears moments later. He still has his gun out in one hand. I figure, what the hell, for anyone watching now it’d be self-defense, and as he takes a step forward I take a step forward and wind up my arm holding the helmet and smash it right into his face.  
    He goes down hard. The gun clatters to the ground. I kick it out of his reach and keep wailing on him with the helmet. It’s just like déjà vu, like I’m back in the bedroom with Jerold. Only now I have a captive audience, people having gone silent watching. The only sounds are the bells and whistles of the slot machines. I smell sweat and cigarette smoke and the distant aroma of the buffet. The man’s face has become a bloody mess.  
    I stand up straight, drop the helmet, and turn back to everyone staring at me.  
    “This bastard just tried raping me,” I say, my voice loud but hoarse.  
    Then I walk away, dipping low to pick up the gun, concealing it in my shirt as I disappear into the moving crowd of freaks.  

 
     
     
    9

    The boys aren’t happy with me.  
    Scooter hasn’t spoken to me since I’ve returned to the garage. He keeps himself busy packing up his computers on the table. Every couple seconds he glances back at me with a scowl as he chomps on his gum.  
    I guess it doesn’t matter though. Nova does enough talking for both of them. Standing in front of me, his arms crossed, he says, “Just what the fuck were you thinking?”  
    “You mean back at the hotel? I was thinking about staying alive. Besides, what the hell do you care? Not like you had to do any hard work.”  
    “Actually, for your information, your little friend over there and I ran into some trouble. One of Roland’s men was hanging out by the garage entrance.”  
    I roll my eyes, shake my head. “God, just how many henchmen did this bastard have?”  
    “He came at us with his gun drawn. He even aimed the fucking thing at my head.”  
    “Well,” I say, crossing my arms now to match Nova, “judging by the fact you’re standing here telling me this captivating story, I’m guessing you made it out alive.”  
    “Just barely. The fucker actually took a shot at us. I had to bat the gun away, hit him in his throat, break his neck.”  
    “Aw, poor baby. You actually had to get your hands dirty for once?”  
    Nova, his face already red, opens his mouth to respond. But before he can Scooter slams his hands down on the table. He turns around to glare at us.  
    “Enough of this shit,” he says. “What’s in the past is in the past. Each of us is st-st-still alive, which is all we can ask for after a job. Now the only thing left to ask are two questions both Nova and I have been asking ourselves for the past half hour. Just who the f-f-fuck is that woman and why the f-f-f-fuck did you have her brought here?”  
    I’ll admit it—Scooter’s intensity catches me off guard. Very rarely does he raise his voice like this. Normally he’s the easygoing one, the guy who’s always cracking jokes, looking on the brighter side of life, sometimes even making fun of his own stutter. Not the guy who has venom in his eyes.  
    The Mexican girl is standing off in the corner. Apparently she hasn’t said a word to either Nova or Scooter this entire time. She hasn’t even let them near her. But when I first arrived she smiled and ran over to me, wrapped her arms around my neck, murmuring in Spanish how happy she was to see me. Then when Nova came over and started up with me she slipped away to the spot she’s standing in right now.  
    “Well?” Scooter says, and when I glance at him I see his jaw is still and I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him not chewing his bubblegum.  
    “She saved my life back there. I needed