“Leaving,” I tell her, not looking. My tone’s light, the kind of light that makes glassware rethink the idea of jumping. She decides she forgot something in the bathroom and evaporates.
I slide into the booth, crowding the kid until he has to turn toward me. He smells like cheap cologne trying to drown fear.
“You know why I’m here.”
He nods, jerking. “I got some. Not all.” He digs in his pocket and dumps a rubber-banded wad on the table like it’s an offering. I don’t touch it.
“How much are you short?”
His mouth works. “Three-fifty.”
He owes eight. Fisher told me. “So here you are, with less than a half and a date.”
“She—she was gonna spot me,” he stammers. “She said she—she knew a guy—”
“She probably knows lots of guys. And not in the way you’d like, my guy.” I lean back, give him a breath. “You’re gonna pay the rest. In two weeks.”
His eyes flare. “I can’t—”
“You can.” I say it plain. “Because you’re going to stop buying your own product, and you’re going to stop trying to impress girls who’d pawn your shoes while you sleep.” I jerk my chin at his wrist. “Leave the watch.”
“It’s a fake.”
“I know.” I hold out my hand anyway. After a second he peels it off and drops it into my palm like it’s a finger. I close my fist around it. “Collateral. Miss the first Friday from tonight, I take the fingers that wore it.”
He believes me.
I mean, I’d believe me too. The problem? My grandmother wouldn’t believe anything about me if she saw me now. All those promises I made her went and fucked themselves somewhere along the way.
Do I like looking in the mirror? No. Not really.
“Stand up,” I tell the kid.
He does, wobbling like a foal. I grab the wad of cash off the table, tuck it away, then curl my fingers into the front of his hoodie and steer him toward the door. The blonde reappears just long enough to decide she doesn’t want to be collateral and vanishes again, perfume trailing after her like she hopes it’ll confuse the hounds.
We hit the alley. It’s brittle cold; my breath ghosts and disappears. I shove him against the brick, but not hard. Just enough to make the sound echo. You gotta give the night something to chew on, or it keeps coming back hungrier.
He squeezes his eyes shut. “Please, man, I’ll get it, I swear—”
“Open your eyes.”
He does. I hold them. “Two weeks. First Friday. Don’t make me chase you. If you do, I’m gonna be really mad, and that’s the last thing anyone wants. Okay?”
He nods, quick. “Okay.”
“And if Fisher sends someone else,” I add, because I’m not always the one who gets cleanup duty, “you tell them you already settled with Talon. They’ll ask if you’re lying. You’ll say no. You’ll show them your wrist, naked as a baby. You’ll tell them you know what fingers are worth.”
He swallows so hard his throat clicks. “Okay.”
I let him go. He staggers, hands on his knees, sucking in cold air.
“Now go,” I say. “And don’t bring dates to business. It never ends well.”
Lark flashes behind my eyes. She was about that blonde’s age when she died. I wonder what kind of person she’d be now if we’d made it back then. Ten grand in our hands, a car, and each other for a team…?
In hindsight, I think her plan was to cheat me. Steal the money and disappear into the ether forever.
Well, I wouldn’t have let her. I’d guard the money, guard her, and if anything, we’d skip town together.
