I stop walking. “What the fuck?”
“No, Prime. Because I’m not positive you plan on coming back from that hit.”
I drink my coffee and take a beat to steady myself before replying. I could snap at him, react like the old Prime would, but I’m not thinking short term anymore. My life doesn’t have a black spot past Fontana’s death.
“I want kids. I ever tell you that?”
Stellan snorts. “You’re lying.”
“I’m serious. You know how I grew up. The shit I went through. I want kids of my own and I want to spoil them rotten. I want to do it right, be a good father, give them a good life. Make up for some of the hell I survived.”
“You can do that without killing Fontana.”
“No, I can’t. I need to end it. I have to know it’s over. It’s been eating at me all these years, Stellan, and maybe I don’t want to go down into hell after the old man, but I have to send him there. Now’s my chance. The only one I’ll get, right now while he’s weakest. Please, Stellan, this is the last favor I’ll ask of you. Give me permission to kill the old bastard, and afterward, I’ll focus on my wife and on getting her as pregnant as I can.”
My friend smiles and claps my shoulder. “You make it sound so romantic.”
“I won’t do it if you refuse. But I’m asking you for one more thing.”
“Do it then. You have my blessing, so long as you find your way back after it’s over. I like that wife of yours. I’d hate to see you break her heart.”
“Never.”
Stellan says goodbye in front of the Art Museum. His driver’s waiting in a black limo. When he’s gone, I call Deanna, and she picks me up ten minutes later.
“How’d it go?”
“About as good as it could’ve.”
“Anything I should know?”
I lean over to kiss her neck as she navigates the narrow Philly streets. “Tonight, I’m going to kill Fontana. And afterward, I’m going to come home, and I’m going to fuck you until you’re pregnant.”
She laughs, flicking my chin until I back away. “Who said I want to get pregnant?”
“You don’t want a family?”
“I do, but I’m still young.”
“All the better. We’ll have more time to pump them out.”
“Prime!”
“I’m going to fill you with babies, Deanna.”
“God, you’re a psychopath.”
“Dozens of them.”
“Three. No more. And we’ll start when I’m twenty-six.”
“That’s forever away.”
“It’s long enough for us to travel, go to dinner, do all the dating things we never got to do, before we give our lives over to kids.”
“That’s a fair point.”
“Good.” She pats my cheek. “That’s my husband.”
