Fuck, he’s hot. Even in a cheap suit. Even making veiled threats.
“Baby, what’s the plan?” I ask again. He shakes his head impatiently. “I mean, like, were you sent tokillme? Is my Dad really in that much shit? Because I’d rather not die if I can avoid it. I mean, God, Iwantto die, you know, but not by getting shot in the head if I have the choice. Although, if you do have to do that, can you double-tap? Make sure? ’Cause I’d definitely rather die than be a vegetable, or whatever the politically correct term is these days. Baby? Can you do that for me?”
“Jesus fuck,” he sighs. “I thought I must have made up how much you talked, but I didn’t.”
“I’m nervous,” I say, and laugh my hyena laugh again. He raises an eyebrow at me. “It’s nervous laughter. So tell me true, are you gonna throw me in the Hudson with cement shoes?”
He raises both hands to his face and rubs vigorously, like he’s trying to scrub away the day. Too late for that.
“Baby?”
“Be quiet and let me think,” he says, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes.
My confidence shakes, just a little. I don’t really think he’s gonna kill me. Maybe he was sent to, but he won’t. Notme. Not after the universe has hit us over the head with this great big coincidence-that-can’t-be. But: “Youdoremember me, right?” I ask.
He looks up at that, squinting at me like I’ve said something stupid. “You saved my life.”
I snort. “Nowthat’sdramatic. Say, whateverdidhappen to all those guys who jumped you? The ones who limped out of the alley alive?”
“I killed them.” He says it simply, impatiently, as though it couldn’t matter less what happened to them. I guess it doesn’t, not really.
“And now me?” I ask.
He stalks over to me. “You’ve really fucked things up for me, you know that?”
“Well, I sure am sorry I screwed up your morning. If it’s any consolation, this wasn’t scheduled in my day-planner, either.”
He takes my chin and looks my face over. “They hit you when they grabbed you?”
I nod. “Yeah, that cheeky little monkey—Joey? He punched me a couple times more than he was supposed to, according to your brother, who wassuperpressed about it in the back of the van. Or at least, as far as I could make out.”
His mouth tightens as he takes that in, and I take the opportunity to give him a long, appreciative stare. He’s filled out some since the last time I saw him. Still ropy like a panther, gleaming black hair shorter now and slicked back, but skin still pale enough that he could pass as a Victorian consumptive. Under the jacket I can see his shoulders have broadened out, and his tight white shirt strains just the slightest bit over his pecs. I wonder if he still has that gorgeous pelt of hair on him.
I wonder if his cock is just as thick and juicy as I remember it, and lick my split lip. His eyes follow my tongue, so I do it again, lick my lips, slower this time, and give a twisty smirk.
“You changed your hair.”
“Aw, you noticed. Yeah, I got tired of pink.” These days I just bleach it blond and have done with it.
“I liked the pink.”
“I mean, I can dye it back if that helps get me out of here?”
He pulls his eyes away, looking over my head. “The plan was to take you out to send a message to your father that he should pay his debts.”
“Hm. That would be kind of like nuking a mosquito, I feel,” I say thoughtfully.
“You feel right, but it wasn’t my decision.”
“Georgie, you mind untying me? My nose is real itchy.” He ignores me. “Or not,” I sigh.
He paces around again, but there’s no scrubbing at his face this time, so I figure the bricks are lining up in his mind just how he wants them. I make a mighty effort to keep my mouth shut, for atleasta minute.
“Alright,” he says after forty-three seconds (according to my count, anyway). “The last time we met, angel, you laid the world out before me and suggested I take it. That’s what I’m working towards. Now, you—youcouldbe useful to me.”
I laugh again. “Okay, baby. If that’s the way you wanna play it. Sure, I can be useful.”
“Only I need to know your goals, too. There’s no point us making a deal if we can’t be useful to each other.”
