Page 35 of Demise

She clears her throat. “That’s one reason I wanted to speak with you.” She hesitates for a second. “I’m not reopening the shop. I think that part of my life has been wrapped up. I’d like to focus my time and attention on the farm.”

“I understand,” I say. Although, I’m not sure how to feel about it. On one hand, I’m sad. It’s been my place of work since I was a teen. On the other hand, I’m thinking it’s a good thing. I won’t be tied down to one place. I won’t have to commit. I have a good amount of money coming from Samuel’s life insurance. Maybe I’ll travel, find myself, see some of the world. I don’t know.

I take another sip of my coffee, looking out the window, recollecting on my last several years. The many times I’ve walked down these streets, picked up coffee for Billie and me, spoken to the locals, and eaten lunch with Samuel down at Andy’s Sandwiches.

I was a woman who looked as if she had everything under control. Life figured out. I had the perfect husband and a job I was good at and cared about. Everyone in the community knew me as Bexley O’Brien, the woman who ran A-Street Flower Shop. I dressed well, I kept my head even, and I played the role.

That life is behind me now.

Gone, just like Samuel.

“What will you do?” Billie asks me.

I look back at her. “I don’t know.” I have no role. I have no persona to maintain. I’m just me—

widowed, unemployed, and wondering what the next move is. I’m at the restart line. The do-over.

The you-got-a-second-chance, don’t-screw-this-up point. Not many people get that.

The question is, what will I do with it?

“I guess I’ll find out.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Bones

Getting greedy in this business never worked out for anybody. You have to keep a straight head, stay off drugs, don’t let the money rule you, and remember why you like being in this lifestyle in the first place.

Freedom.

No clocking in every day, no working for the man. You work for you.

But somewhere along the way, Moretti forgot. We noticed it back in our earlier years, and we noticed it now.

The day he got Nugget to point a gun at my head, he lost my respect. And where I come from respect isn’t an easy thing to get back. But you see, he never even fucking tried.

I said one day… one day I was going to take that man down. Burn every fucking thing he had.

But I never expected it to be this way.

“What we’re looking at here is first degree murder for Trig and Sweep. And then there are a few things we have you on also,” Henry says unpretentiously. Henry isn’t happy about this, but Henry is doing his job.

My eyes bounce to him.

“Yeah, that’s right. We got you, Danny,” Tony says arrogantly.

“You got me. Fuck you, you got me.” I stand up, pulling on the lapels of my coat and grabbing my cigarillos from a pocket along with a box of matches. I strike one, bringing it to the end as I puff before swatting the match out.

I point at Tony. “You see, if you had me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d take me down along with Moretti, but you got nothing. I’m done here.” I head to the door.

“Danny,” Paul says.

I turn back to look at him. “I listened, Paul, and I didn’t care for what I was hearing.” I open the door and walk out.

“Good day, Mr. O’Brien,” Denise says.

“Yeah, good fucking day,” I say, exiting the office.

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