Page 69 of Silk and Steel

“The guy who was in for embezzling? With the red hair and the annoying voice?”

“Yeah,” Banner replies. “He was at a party at Wyatt Summers’ place, you know, the cult leader guy? And he says that Cole Drake came in like fucking Rambo and killed like nine of the cultists without breaking a sweat.”

“Markus lies like a dog, Banner. Besides, I’d wager the training I put myself through is far more impressive than his.”

I can’t help it. That makes me laugh, and it’s genuine. Banner joins in.

“Maybe your woman isn’t so bad after all,” Banner says.

“I’m a decorated martial artist and I know how to fire a gun as well as anyone,” Julian says. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m never going to have to face off with Cole Drake because the Surgeon will take care of him, if he hasn’t already.”

“So you say. I’m keeping a look out anyway.”

“You do that, man, if it makes you feel better.” Julian leans back in his seat and sighs. “You know, Emory, I’m surprised that you and that glorified thug even hooked up at all. He doesn’t seem like your type.”

I don’t want to upset him, but at the same time it’s hard to take his constant barrage of pointed comments. Before I can stop myself, I turn and snap at him.

“My type? How am I supposed to know what my type is, Julian? You swooped in and brainwashed me when I was nineteen.”

“I never brainwashed you. You practically threw yourself at me, because you wanted to ride in the limos, and the private jets, and eat caviar on my yacht.”

“I never threw myself at you. You filled up my head with a lot of big ideas, and then you love bombed me into submission even though my instincts kept telling me something wasn’t right.”

“Love bomb? Please. That’s just another example of your generation taking something perfectly fine and putting sinister connotations on it. How can you complain about the poetry, the flowers, the jewelry?”

I cover my face with my hands. This is a nightmare.

“I can never make you understand, Julian. I couldn’t have cared less about the jewelry and the flowers. It was how interested you seemed in me. How much you seemed to believe in my talent and my career. I thought you really loved me.”

“I do love you, Emory!”

He puts his hand on my shoulder and it takes everything I have not to wither away from his touch.

“I love you so much! And I did believe in…I mean, I do believe in your career. You can still do your job even in Colombia. I never wanted to crush your dreams.”

I look over at him, peeking out from between my fingers. He believes what he’s saying. Julian’s mix of cunning and madness has always thrown me, and everyone else, off their guard. It’s only in moments like this one that you realize how out of touch with reality he really is.

That, and the whole breaking two serial killers out of prison thing. No one ever said Julian wasn’t a doer. It’s too bad that he picks awful things to do.

“You don’t believe me, Emory, but you will. We’re going to be so happy in Colombia. We can start a family, a whole dynasty. I’ve got offshore accounts that will keep us in the lap of luxury until we die, and still leave something for the kids.”

The thought of having a child with Julian turns my stomach so violently that I throw up in my mouth. Choking, I cough and struggle to breathe. Julian quickly offers a bottle of water. I take it from him, hating the fact that I have to accept his help.

“Oh my God,” Banner groans from the front seat. “Did she throw up back there? Because if she threw up back there, any minute I’m going to smell it and then I’m going to puke, too.”

“She didn’t throw up, she’s fine.”

Julian peers over the seat and his jaw falls open.

“Are you speeding? You idiot! The last thing we want is to be pulled over.”

“Nah, the easiest way to attract attention is by sticking to the speed limit. No one’s going to pull me over for doing five over the limit.”

Julian leans into the front seat, his eyes boring into Banner’s. Julian is a very large man, and his crazed presence gets even to the man who poisoned his own family.

“Slow it down,” Julian growls.

“All right, all right, fuck, get outta my grill, Lovejoy.”

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