And then Evan shook his head. “Ah well. Time to go.” He raised the pistol to point at Danny’s head. “It’ll be quick, amigo. For old times’ sake.”
The slapping of his heart seemed to bend the ribs of his chest. Danny’s mouth went dry, his tongue a slab of meat. The round eye of the gun stared at him, eager to offer that fatal wink.
“Wait.” He stared past the pistol, to Evan. His fingers tingled. “One last favor?”
Evan cocked his head. “Your credit isn’t much good here, Danny-boy.”
“For old times’ sake.”
“What?”
“Do him first.” Danny gestured at Nolan with his head, careful to keep his hands out.
Evan narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Danny stared back, blinked. “Because… it’s like the game. It’ll be easier once I see it done.”
Evan looked at him for a long moment. His eyes grew colder, and darker. “Never would have believed it.” His voice dripped contempt. “You’re a coward.”
Danny looked away, looked back.
Evan stared at him, then slowly shrugged. “All right. For old times’ sake.” He took two steps toward the snapping plastic, and turned to Nolan. “Good night, Sean.” He raised the gun like a piece of clockwork, bringing it to Nolan’s forehead.
Danny jerked downward, his right hand finding the strap of the duffel bag and hoisting it up. Keeping his momentum going, he hurled himself forward, his left leg planted as a pivot, arm flinging out and up from the weight, putting every last cell of screaming muscle into it.
The thirty-pound duffel bag took Evan dead in the chest. He staggered backward, arms flailing, fire blasting from the gun. His back hit the sheeting, and for one terrible moment it held.
Then his weight ripped it from the ceiling and Evan McGann fell out into the city night.
The silence that followed was broken only by the wind-whipped crack of the loose tarp and the sound of Danny’s beating heart. His legs went rubbery, and he dropped to his knees. After all of the pain and exhaustion, he wanted more than anything to collapse and sleep.
More than almost anything.
With trembling arms, he crawled over to the open ledge and looked down.
Evan lay splayed across a stack of metal girders three stories below. The top and bottom half of him seemed somehow wrong, like an action figure twisted too far. One arm curled around the duffel bag. The seam had split on impact, and a handful of bills spilled out to swirl in the October wind, the money blowing like dreams, tangling in the dirty weeds and sullen mud. Beside him, he heard Nolan speaking into his radio, calling for backup. Sirens sounded immediately, beat cars only blocks away.
Danny rocked back to his knees, shut his eyes, and let the darkness come.
48
“You don’t have to do this.” Karen’s voice was flat.
Danny looked over at her, rigid behind the steering wheel. Her face was strained, but at least it wasn’t slack. Sometimes he’d find her staring out the window or standing in the kitchen folding and refolding a dish towel, her eyes a thousand miles away. Gone so deep that even speaking wouldn’t break the trance. Those times he would slide an arm around her waist to remind her she was safe, and watch her come back slowly, blinking like she was swimming up from the bottom of some enormous sea.
Her wounds would heal in time, he knew. But he also knew they’d leave scars. Wounds always did.
“I do have to. I…” Danny almost said “owe it to him,” caught himself. “I need to finish it. What’s that word you like,” he asked, “the Men-Are-from-Wherever word?”
She smiled. “Closure.”
“Closure. That’s what I need.”
She didn’t nod, but she didn’t disagree, either. Just flipped on the blinker and eased into the turn lane. Threadbare snowflakes drifted halfheartedly past the windshield. A voice on the radio said they should expect a couple of inches. Warned them Valentine’s Day was only a week away, and told them nothing said love like Russell Stover chocolates. He snapped it off.
Was he doing this for closure? Seemed like part of the equation, certainly. The opportunity to put everything to bed, to face the last of the consequences. Clear the slate and focus on the future. But it felt like there was more to it.
He stared out the window and wondered what he would say. The tangled web of brotherhood and betrayal was too complicated to be undone, or even encapsulated, by mere words. Words weren’t big enough.
The Blue Line El rattled past, filled with everyday people, and he wondered if their histories seemed as complicated to them; wondered how many saw their past as a confluence of uncontrollable events shaping their present. Did any of them?
Did they all?
He reached over and put a hand on Karen’s belly, feeling the warmth and life beneath her thin sweater. She put a hand over his, smiling with the newfound bloom, the one she’d had since Christmas, when three separate tests turned blue.
The new Cook County Hospital squatted a mile west of the Loop. Though possessed of all the poetry of an office park, it had shouldered its predecessor’s 150-year legacy of offering medical care to even the poorest of patients. Karen waited for traffic to ease, and then turned into the driveway, the Explorer’s tires humming softly on the blacktop. She parked just short of the covered walkway and turned to face him. In the way she brushed a lock of hair behind her ear he recognized a prepared speech.
“I can’t come with you.” The words tumbled out. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
He shook his head. “I know. I’ll handle this part alone.”
She glanced out the window, and then back again. Danny wanted to scoop her up and carry her back to their apartment, to wrap her in quilts and love and tell her she would never have to face another monster. Instead he kissed her, breathed her in, reveling in her. Every time they touched he felt blessed. Different, better, than before. No more living on borrowed time.
He stepped out, pulling his jacket around him. A family walked into the hospital, the automatic entrance swishing open. To the east, he could see the skyline against gray clouds. He reached for the car door, started to slam it.
“Danny!”
He turned. “What?”
“Promise me…” She hesitated, like she wasn’t sure what to say. “Promise you’ll come back to me.”
He stared at her, feeling like his heart might soar out of his chest. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll never leave again.” He reached across the empty seat, and she seized his hand.
“You better not.” Her eyes had the old playful sparkle in them. “Or I’ll find a hunky Lamaze teacher to run away with.”
He laughed, and leaned in to kiss her again, and again.
He got directions at the information desk. The comfortable lobby quickly gave way to antiseptic corridors. Fluorescents shone bright and hollow off linoleum floors. He took the elevator up. A uniformed cop lounged in a chair outside the door.
“I’m Danny Carter. Detective Nolan cleared me to visit today.”
The cop matched his driver’s license to a list on a clipboard, and asked him to sign in. “You want me to come in with you?”
Danny shook his head. “Thanks.”
“Suit yourself.” The cop gestured to the door, then flopped back into his chair.
The room looked like any of a million other hospital rooms, clean, sterile, and cold. A whiff of ammonia lingered in the air. The television was tuned to a Hispanic network, soccer players racing up and down some warm field. A wheelchair sat in one corner.
Evan looked up from the bed as he walked in. His stare grew hard. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I’m not sure.” Danny closed the door behind him.