“We’ve been waiting for the right time ever since you wasted Ford,” Tomo added.
“And we’d do it, too, if we thought it would take,” Big Joe said. “But I know you, freakshow. You wouldn’t even have the decency to stay dead. Though that could be kind of fun, too, killing you as many times as we like. We could take turns, try out interesting and exciting new ways of making you die.”
I reached for my gun, but Big Joe grabbed my arm before I got it. “Nice try.” He twisted my arm away, took the gun out of my pocket, and put it in his own. Then he punched me in the stomach.
I doubled over, gasping. He’d knocked the air right out of my lungs. Big Joe grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me upright again. “You’re lucky Underwood wants to see you, T-Bag. Otherwise me and Tomo could do this all day.”
I bristled at the nickname T-Bag. I’d always hated it. He knew it, too, which is why he kept using it. I spat in his face and said, “Go fuck yourself.”
He punched me again, in the kidney this time. It hurt like hell. “Keep giving me attitude and next time I’ll use a knife instead of my fists,” Big Joe said. He shook his head in disgust. “I told Underwood from the start you’d be trouble, but he didn’t listen. He shoulda found a way to bag-and-tag you the minute you iced Ford, only Underwood thought a freak like you might be useful. There’s a fuckin’ joke if I ever heard one.”
Outside, the sky kept brightening in its unstoppable march toward dawn. I thought of Bethany and the others, still asleep, not knowing what was coming. I struggled to get free, but Big Joe’s grip was like a vise. “I didn’t kill Ford,” I insisted. “Not on purpose. I can’t control it when it happens.”
“Keep talkin’, T-Bag,” he said. “Give me a reason to see if you can come back from a bullet in the brain.”
“That’ll do,” a familiar voice said from somewhere behind Big Joe.
Big Joe released me and took a step back. Tomo took a step back, too, and between them I saw Underwood standing in the vestibule doorway. He came forward until he was standing right in front of me, the overwhelming stench of Obsession for Men inundating my nostrils. He looked me up and down.
“Nice outfit,” he said. “You been shopping?”
I wiped my bleeding mouth with the back of my hand. “Underwood—”
“Where’s the box?” he said. It came out less like a question than the verbal cocking of a gun.
I saw him then for what he was, no longer blinded by the things he’d done for me. This was the true Underwood; he was a burning coal, a coiled viper ready to strike. It was why so many people were afraid of him. It was why I should have been from the start.
Through the glass door, I saw the gray murk outside grow less murky. I was running out of time. I had to get out of here fast, but there was no way Underwood was going to let that happen. He searched my face, waiting for an answer, his eyes hidden behind his black sunglasses. I had a feeling if I ever saw his eyes, they would be as empty and merciless as a shark’s.
“I don’t have it,” I told him.
“How much longer until you do?”
“I’m working on it.”
Underwood shook his head. “I asked you a question.”
“Today,” I lied. “I’ll have the box for you today. Just let me go get it. Let me do my job.”
Underwood’s mouth tightened into a hard line. “What did I say when I sent you out last night? Didn’t I tell you there was a lot riding on this? Didn’t I tell you I had a buyer waiting to dump fucking truckloads of money on me for that box? I told you I needed it ASAP, and yet here you stand, empty-handed and coughing up excuses like some fucking chump. Only you’re dressed in brand new clothes like you spent all night picking through the racks at Barney’s instead of doing what I asked. Do you know what that makes me wonder? It makes me wonder if I can trust you. And if I can’t trust you, something drastic needs to happen.” He flicked a speck of dust off the shoulder of his coat. “Here’s a little something for you to keep in mind, Trent. I may not be able to kill you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make you hurt. It doesn’t mean I can’t make you wish you could die.”
I remembered the chair behind the black door, the drain at its feet. As if on cue, Tomo pulled a straight razor from his pocket and flicked it open. I saw the sharp edge of the blade and thought of the gaping slit in Bennett’s throat. “Let me give him a taste, boss,” Tomo said.
He and Big Joe both took a step toward me, but I put up my hands. “Wait! Just wait!”
Underwood glanced wordlessly at his two enforcers. They stepped back.
I let out my breath slowly. “It’s not what you think, Underwood. It’s this job. There are complications.”
“You and your fucking complications,” Big Joe spat.
Underwood lifted a hand. “Now, now, let’s hear him out.”
“The box wasn’t at the warehouse. They hid it because there are others looking for it.”
He frowned. “Who?”
“That’s the thing,” I said. “They’re … gargoyles.”
“Gargoyles?” he said. “Never heard of them. Who are they, a street gang?”
“They’re not a gang, Underwood, they’re gargoyles. Actual gargoyles, with wings and claws and teeth—”
He burst out laughing. “Christ, Trent. When did you start hitting the pipe?”
“You’ve got to listen to me,” I said. “This isn’t like the jobs you’ve sent me on before. Things are happening that I can’t explain. Impossible things.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?” He looked at Tomo and Big Joe, then back at me, a half-grin on his face. I got the sense he was only tolerating this because he found it amusing.
I took a deep breath. I knew how crazy I sounded already, and I was about to sound even crazier. “Just a few minutes ago, Bennett came to see me.”
Underwood laughed again, and Big Joe and Tomo joined him. They laughed like they’d never heard something so funny. “Now I know you’ve lost it,” Underwood said. “Trust me, Bennett’s not going to be paying any visits to anyone.”
“But I saw him,” I insisted. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s the box, Underwood. Everything connected to it is royally fucked up. It’s dangerous. You may think you can handle it, but you’re in way over your head.”
I felt Big Joe’s fist hit my cheek before I even saw him swing. I fell to my hands and knees on the thinly carpeted floor of the vestibule. “Know your fucking place, T-Bag!”
Underwood crouched down next to me. “Trent, Trent, Trent. When did you become such a disappointment? How did a simple job like this become too much for you to handle?”
I spat on the floor, my saliva tinged with blood. “Walk away from this one, Underwood. Whatever’s in that box, it’s not worth what’ll come after you once you’ve got it.”
“Walk away? Do you know how much money is on the line? Come on, Trent, enough with the bullshit. I’ll tell you what, just bring me the box and all will be forgiven. We can pretend we never had this conversation. I want it in my hands by tonight. Don’t make me come looking for you again. Am I clear?”
I shook my head. “It’s not just gargoyles, man, there’s this thing in black armor.”
“Okay. Give us a minute, guys,” Underwood said. Tomo and Big Joe left the vestibule to stand guard outside the door, leaving us alone. Underwood held his hand out to me. I looked at it like it was a dog ready to bite me. Finally, I took it and he helped me to my feet. His hand was ice cold, as though he’d absorbed all the air-conditioning from the fallout shelter. “I’ve always tried to do right by you, haven’t I, Trent? I gave you a job and a place to sleep. I made certain inquiries into your past, like I promised. Do you remember what I told you last night? I think you’re going to be very happy with what I found. Very happy.”