But I guess none of that matters anymore, now, does it…
***
Ellie
“Will, what the hell are you doing?” I say, gasping in shock.
“What I gotta do.” He answers with a snarl.
“What are you talking about? What, are you going to kill me?”
“If I have to.” He says, but in all the years that I’ve known Will, he’s never even touched a gun, let alone fire one. Unless he had a shooting one-oh-one course while he was holed up in Vegas, I’d say that he’s bluffing.
“Will, put that down, you idiot! You’re liable to set it off and kill us both!”
“Shut up!” He shouts in my ear, making it ring.
“Okay, take it easy.” I rub my ear. “Let’s break this down. What kind of trouble did you get yourself into, anyway? Did this asshole put a hit on me or something? Why does he want me dead?”
He chuckles mirthlessly. “He doesn’t even know about you, Ellie. This is all me.” He says as if impressed that he came up with this himself.
“But I bet that’s his gun.” I point out. “And just what do you think you’re going to accomplish putting a gun to my head, Will?”
“You’re going to give me all your money.”
I scoff out loud. “You really have lost your mind. If you think I’m going to give you a dime, just so that you can go pad the pockets of the asshole that put you up to this, then you’re crazier than I thought. Now, I suggest you put that gun down, right now, before someone gets hurt, and then you can go and tell this con artist to go to hell, and then you can go beg to get your job back. Then, maybe then, you’ll have a starting point to get yourself out of this mess. Otherwise, all you’re doing right now is digging yourself further into a hole. You see, one of two things is going to happen here. Either you’re going to pull the trigger yourself, blowing one or both of us away, landing you either in jail or in a big pine box, or else Maverick’s going to show up, beat the living shit right out of you, and then you’re going to have to go face your con artist friend, who will likely kill you and take you out of your misery. Your choice, Will, but I suggest you think fast.”
“Maverick.” He sneers, like it’s a bad taste in his mouth. “He the guy you’re fucking?”
“He’s the man I love, Will. And he’s shown me more of that than you ever did, and then some, so I suggest you don’t take it lightly that if he gets wind of this, you’ll wish your friend Humphrey blew you to smitherines.”
“Sounds like a pretty boy to me.”
“Take it as you like, Will. It’s your grave.”
He cocks the magazine, surprising me. “What’s say you make a call to your bank and deposit some cash into my account, huh? Then we can go with option three: me leaving with enough money to flee to an exotic place, and start a new life, without you, without Humphrey, and most of all, without Maverick.”
I hear a click, and I think that Will’s lost his nerve, but then I hear my beloved’s voice, from behind my head. “Shoulda picked option three, partner.”
I’m still sitting on the couch, Will is behind me, in the gap between the couch and the wall, where I keep a large, framed photograph that runs from floor to ceiling, and a small console table behind the couch that houses a centrepiece that Will once gave to me. Remind me again to throw it out when all this is said and done. After diving onto the floor, I hear a short, quick scuffle on the floor behind the couch.
“It’s okay, Ellie. I’ve got him.” Maverick grunts, and as I rise, I see that my beloved’s hand has Will’s hands behind his back, as he lies stomach-down on the floor. “Are you calling the cops on him, or shall I just feed him to my brothers?” he asks, too casually, like his heart didn’t skip a beat in the last two minutes.
Why, I don’t know, but I give Will a chance. “What do you think, Will? Are you done screwing around? Are you going to do what I told y’all to do, or do I need to have you arrested?”
“I think I’d be better off in jail.” He scoffs, like a coward. “Humphrey gets wind of this and he’ll kill me for sure.”
“You squeal on him, you might as well stay there.” Maverick advises. “How much bread do you owe him?”
“A couple hundred thousand.”
“Jesus, Will.” I seethe. “You go to jail and you’ll never get your job back. No bank is ever going to look at you after that.”
“Well, I’m better off dead, then.”
I feel bad for him, even though I know that he’s asked for these troubles on his own. He’s also so pathetic, it’s hard to stay mad at him, despite the fact that mere seconds ago, he held a gun to my head. But it’s soon apparent that Maverick hasn’t forgotten the danger he just put me in. “I say have him arrested. That way he’s never going to pull shit like this again.”
Will pleads. “Can you…ugh…get your knee out of my back, please? Man, I feel like I’m going to puke.”
