Page 13 of Irreversible

“What’s your stance on it?”

“I think itlookslike it was him.” He swirls the alcohol around the bottom of his glass. “And I also think you’ve gotthe best instincts of anyone I’ve met. If you say itwasn’thim, I won’t be the one to say you’re wrong.”

“That’s all right. Everyone else already did it for you.”

“Because you were too close.”

“Don’t.” The word snaps out of me. My recently lowered blood pressure rises again. “I’m aware of the argument. It’s fucked me over since the beginning.”

Bias is what they called it.Familial bias.Basically, it just gave them an excuse for everything they disagreed with.

He exhales a long breath out his nose, steepling his fingers in front of his chin. “I really am your friend, you know.” The look he gives me is rife with nostalgia. “Gone to bat for your ass more than once. That means I get to be concerned.”

Pretending my drink is something stronger, I down it and push the glass away, watching it slide through a puddle of condensation.

“Don’t make me go to your funeral, Isaac.”

I widen my eyes in mock surprise. “Wow, twoIsaacsin one conversation. Feels like a bad omen waiting to happen. Do me a favor and don’t make it three.”

“I’d rather not visit you in prison, either.”

“Consider yourself absolved from both, then.” Sliding out of the booth, I remove my wallet from my back pocket and pull out a couple bills. “No one else will be there, why should you?”

“Is having someone actually give a shit really that painful for you?” His parting shot makes me pause, but only for a second.

I look back over my shoulder. “What’s the point? We’re all here one day and gone the next. No one is permanent. It doesn’t mean anything. Why set yourself up for that?” For this never-ending ache in my chest, is what I mean. The hollowness. “I’m not worth that.” I toss one of the bills onto the table. “No one is.”

The last sentence jabs like a knife in my heart, and I regret it.

Tanner, with an expression like he’s already mourning my impending and likely messy passing, looks away. Pulls out another cigarette.

I’ve barely made it two steps before Sequin Girl appears, roaming the area. Serendipity. Can’t say she isn’t persistent.

She stops in her tracks, brow pinching as she finds her balance on heels so high I’m surprised she doesn’t topple face-first. Her expression softens when she notices Tanner and his bleeding heart.

Now that I’m less distracted, I see her for what she is. A pretty, doe-eyed thing, a bit on the young side and slightly out of her element. Empathetic to the point that it hurts to see someone upset. In a place like this, that could either serve her well or destroy her.

Her gaze snags on me. The tendons in her neck tighten, her throat moving when she swallows. She sees me for what I am, too. Her foot slides back.

But I’m too fast, and before she has time to make eye contact with the bouncer, I’m close enough to brush those cheap sequins with the crisp bill I hold between us. Close enough that she cranes her neck to accommodate my considerable height, despite the heels.

She tenses as I lean in, my nose inches from her thrumming pulse as I inhale the honey and vanilla of her perfume. Smells like an entire dessert menu.

Perfect.

“Do me a favor and give that guy a dance or two, will you?” I angle my chin toward Tanner, who is visibly debating whether to step in and keep me from scaring the girl.

Her gaze lowers, widening when she sees the one-hundred-dollar bill. With a nod, she slides the bill from between my fingers, hesitating when my breath brushes her ear.

My next words are just for her; a quiet secret between the two of us. “Treat him nice, okay? His wife just left him.”

I leave them there without looking back, my plan solidifying with every step.

If the law has officially thrown in the towel, then it’s time for me to stop playing by their rules and make up some of my own.

The wheels in my head are turning, rifling through the contacts I’ve made through years of mingling with the members of society who are less concerned with legalities. I’ve played my part well enough that they believe I’m one of them, and with every day that goes by, it’s closer to the truth.

By the time I’ve wound past the stage and out the door, I know my next move and the five after that.

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