“This is the first time we’ve been really alone in a month,” she says.
“You’re right.”
“I think we should celebrate.”
“Chicken and waffles?”
“I know something cheaper.”
She climbs on top of me and puts my hands on her breasts. Begins to grind her crotch against mine.
“What time does your mom get home?” I say.
“Not until after her PTA meeting.”
“Then we better hurry.”
“You talked me into it,” she says, and takes off her T-shirt.
We’re discreet. We don’t shatter any windows or crack plaster off the wall and only break the legs off one of Allegra’s kitchen chairs. I’ll blame that on Matthew.
The man of the hour comes rolling back around eleven-thirty. I hear him rattle the doorknob. A little at first and then harder. He bangs on the door. Yells Allegra’s name.
“I know you’re in there. You think this shit is going to keep me out?”
I’m pretty sure I know the next thing that’s going to happen, and it does. A bootheel to the door where the lock meets the frame. Wood splinters. There’s the sound of metal on carpet as the lock slips out of the door. I stand up and get into position. Candy stays put by the kitchen door.
Matthew comes in and tries the hall light. Curses under his breath when it doesn’t come on.
“Bitch, are you playing games with me? You’re not funny.”
Big Boy storms into the living room and straight onto the tarp. Promptly goes down on his face, into a mix of soap and razor-sharp glass.
“Fuck,” he yells, and “Fuck” again, scrambling in the muck like a mule on an ice rink.
I say, “You might want to hold still.”
He stops moving.
“Who the fuck is that? Where’s Allegra?”
I turn on the small lamp I set aside earlier. I took off the shade so the bulb is annoyingly bright and the light harsh, better to bring out all the pretty scars on my face.
“I’m here to tell you to leave Allegra alone.”
He looks at me and then around at the acre of tarp and glass. It dawns on him that he’s at least moderately fucked, but he keeps up a good front.
“You’re Stark, aren’t you?”
“What’s that to you?”
“You’re the one I really wanted to see. Not that cunt.”
Candy comes out of the kitchen, steps carefully onto one of the dry spots on the tarp’s edge, and kicks Matthew in the ribs. He curls into a little ball of pain and surprise.
“Who’s that?”
“The kick fairy. Say something stupid again and she’ll leave another quarter under your pillow.”
It’s hard for him to catch his breath.
“Okay.”
“Good. We’ll deal with how you know me later. Right now I’m here to talk about you and Allegra.”
“She owes me,” he says, trying to sit up. He slips and goes back down again into the glass. Thin streams of red spread out into the soap. “She stole my money and left me to take the rap for everything.”
“Maybe she wanted to get away from you and that life.”
“Fuck the bitch.”
Candy comes out and kicks him again.
“Fuck. Who is that?” he yells.
“Pay attention to me, jailbird. What I’d like to do with a guy like you is handle things simply, but I promised Allegra I wouldn’t kill you.”
“Suck my dick, tough guy,” he says. Then looks around for Candy. Nothing happens this time. So much for chivalry.
“Instead, what I’m going to do to you is more fun.”
“Why don’t you come over here, pussy, and we’ll settle this like men.”
“First off, I’m not a man. Second, I’m comfy right here. But you’re welcome to swim over my way if you can’t hear me.”
He stays put.
“So, I was telling you what I was going to do.”
“Talk me to death?”
“You’re on parole, aren’t you? I’m going to dismantle you so that the only way you’re ever going to see daylight again is to run as far away as fast as you can and never come back.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“I thought you’d never ask. Kick him again for me, dear.”
Candy comes out and gives him an especially nice shot in the lower ribs. I toss her a set of the work gloves.
“Check him for a gun. Take it and his wallet and toss them to me.”
She fumbles through his clothes for a minute. I should have brought latex gloves with me, but I’m rusty at this and you can’t think of everything.
Finally she comes up with a 9mm Glock and a cheap wallet with a skull and crossbones on the front. I set them on the floor by the lamp. Then grab the barbed-wire cage and hold it over him.
“Set him up straight for me?”
Candy grabs Matthew by the hair and lifts him until he’s on his knees. I drop the wire spiral over his head and Candy pushes him over with her boot, so he’s lying in the soap wrapped in a cage.
“If you thought the glass was bad, try getting frisky in that,” I tell him.
He lets out a couple of little gasps but doesn’t give any back talk.
“Now I’m going out for a few minutes. I don’t want you bothering the kick fairy while I’m gone.”
I hand her the wire cutters.
“Talk too much and she has my blessing to remove your tongue.”
Candy smiles at me. She likes playing dress-up and femme fatale. I don’t think she’ll hurt him while I’m gone, but she won’t be nice either. I put Matthew’s gun and wallet in my pocket and pull up my hood.
“I’m going out for milk and eggs, honey. Be back in a couple of minutes.”
She blows me a kiss and I head out.
There’s a pharmacy a couple of blocks down Beverly from the apartment. It’s a short stroll. A light rain is starting to fall. Early for this time of year. I light a cigarette and smoke until the rain picks up and the foot traffic clears off the street.
The pharmacy isn’t marked around the back of the building, but there’s only one door covered with surveillance cameras and alarm stickers. I pull the hood tighter so only my eyes are showing and kick the door in. The alarm goes off. I have to work fast.
I hop the pharmacy counter and head for the back. Mostly I want to make a mess and grab some Vicodin or OxyContin. I find a couple of jars of vitamin V on a top shelf in the back. I grab both. Stuff one in my pocket and tear open the other, scattering pills on the floor. On my way back over the counter, I leave Matthew’s gun. I drop his wallet in the alley.
When I get back to Allegra’s place, I pop the top of the Vicodin bottle, crush up a few tablets, and scatter the powder over Matthew. Put the rest of the bottle in his pocket, then take off my gloves and stick them in my pocket.
“It’s raining outside,” says Candy.
“Just like a good film noir, right, Matt?”
He looks up at me from the floor.
“What did you do?”
“I just broke into a pharmacy. Took some drugs and left your gun and wallet at the scene.”
“Fuck,” he says. “Fucking fuck you, motherfucker.”
“He’s kind of a poet,” Candy says.
“Kind of one but not really.”
Matthew shakes his head.
“This isn’t going to stick, you know. The guy who told me about you, he’ll fix it.”
“Who’s that?”
Matthew tries to roll onto his side, but it hurts too much.
“Take out my phone and call him. He wants to talk to you. Just hit the most recent call number.”
I put my foot on his cage and roll him onto his back. He groans. I get a phone from his coat pocket, open it, and hit the number that comes up.
It rings a couple of times and someone with a drawl says, “Hello?”
“Who is this?”
A pause.
“That you, Stark? How’s my favorite pixie?”
I know the voice. It’s U.S. Marshal Larson Wells, late of the now-defunct Golden Vigil, the outfit he ran with Aelita. If the drawl didn’t give him away, the way he said “pixie” would. Just the way a redneck says “faggot.”
“How’s tricks, kid? Been keeping busy?”