Page 43 of Towles

A minute or so passed before Ethan replied. Tyson nodded at the phone and grinned. What an asshole. “He’ll be here in ten minutes. He’ll be dead in eleven minutes.”

“Don’t,” Rose said. “I’ll go back to Cali with you. Just you and me.”

“Bullshit. I know what you’re trying to do.” Tyson tapped Rose’s cheek a couple of times with his hand. “No worries, baby, I won’t shoot him.” He put the gun down and removed his shirt, bouncing around the room air-boxing. The gun was still too far away. “Him and me, baby. I’m going to be on his ass like a back pocket.” He was the only one to laugh at the stupid joke.

“Let April go,” Rose said.

I shook my head. “No way. I’m staying.”

“Stand by your man and all that bullshit!” Tyson picked up the gun and walked to the front door. “I’m gonna knock his ass down and then stomp that pretty-boy face of his.”

“You’re not,” Rose said gently. “Tyson, we can return to California and figure out where things went wrong. We can fix it. I know we can.”

I was sure the police had taken Paul’s gun, but had they checked the desk’s middle drawer on the right? I doubted it. That’s where Paul kept a second, smaller gun. That would mean getting away from Tyson, tearing through police tape, and getting the gun before Tyson shot me. The odds weren’t in my favor.

I looked down and wanted to fall apart. “It’s okay to fall apart a little bit,” I whispered to myself. I listened to others and their problems for almost twenty hours a week. Nobody ever listened to mine. I am a therapist. That meant I already had the skills to figure my shit out. Right.

“You should have stuck with your husband,” Tyson said. “See what happens to whores when they run away? Except I ain’t dying like that asshole did. I can’t believe you bit the poor asshole’s dick off.”

The rumble of an approaching bike took Tyson to the window. “Dumb ass came by himself. Just like I knew he would.” Tyson sat in the recliner across from us, the same chair Paul often fell asleep in. Sometimes, I’d sit on the couch and watch the man sleep, dreaming of the day I’d never have to look at him again. That day had come.

I looked to the left when Ethan entered the house. He gently closed the door behind him. He saw me. “April. Where is he?”

“In here, big boy. Slow and easy with the gun in your waistband.” Tyson stood, gun pointed at Ethan. “I’ll shoot them first, and then your big ass.”

Ethan lifted the hem of his cut and turned in a circle. “I’m unarmed, dickhead. Put the gun down, and let’s get to it.”

“Tell your old lady to keep her seat. Your sister, too.” Tyson took a step away so he could see us all at once. “I’ll take much more pride in killing you with my hands.”

“April. Rose. Do as he says.”

“Ethan,” Rose said. “I don’t want this to happen. Take April and go.”

Tyson laughed. “That ain’t happening, little Rose. Now, shut the fuck up.”

I put my hand on Rose’s knee. “Let Ethan handle it,” I said. “He’s on the powder, Ethan.”

“One question.” Tyson motioned at Ethan with the gun. “How’d you know I was here?”

“You text the word cunt. April deplores that word. I knew she didn’t send that message.” Ethan put his riding gloves back on. “I’m glad you’re here, though. I didn’t bother bringing any help. I’m ready when you are.”

“Fucker’s going to fight in his cut,” Tyson said. “It’s all good. They can bury you in the fucking thing.”

“Don’t touch the gun, Rose,” Ethan said. He knew I wouldn’t. Or did he?

Tyson put the gun on the table, and Ethan entered the living room. Tyson quickly swung at Ethan, who ducked to the left and stood upright. Ethan chuckled.

“Trying to hit the one in the middle?” Ethan joked. “You gotta do better than that.”

Tyson took another swing and connected it to Ethan’s jaw. “Got ya, big boy.”

Ethan moved to the left, watching Tyson bounce around the room. He winked at me, and I returned a smile.

“You’re the one who had my parents killed,” Ethan said.

“I am. You’re next.”

Ethan followed Tyson, backing him up. Tyson’s hands were lowering, his face unsure. He glanced at the gun.

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