Page 46 of Demise

“Yeah, but I got a few conditions.”

He frowns. “You don’t get much say here, Danny.” He slides his gloves on, expanding his fingers.

I remove my smoke. “I got this say.”

He exhales, leaning against the wall himself. “What is it?”

“I want it on record. I’m not a narc.”

He sniffs. “Fine.”

“And I want freedom for my men and me to do what we need until this is done.”

“Danny.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“That’s the only way. These days, Moretti has dealings down in Atlanta more so than he does here. We need to be able to travel, and what crimes happen in between, I don’t want any shit about.”

“You want me to go to Calvin and tell him to go ahead and pardon you for the crimes you may or may not commit?”

“Do what you gotta. I just don’t want any shit about it.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“Henry, you and I, we used to drink out of the same bottle. We’ve known one another for a long time,” I say. “Played cops and robbers as kids in these streets.” I point. “We both know there’s a fine line between the two, and we both know you’ve crossed that line yourself.”

He looks over at me. “You got a point here?”

“My point is, you know sometimes it takes going outside of the law to get things done. I got it on good authority that Moretti wants me dead. I know who killed my brother, and I know that person knows who took Bex and me. I want them. But I can’t obtain them legally. I’m going to have to get my hands dirty.”

“So that’s why you’re doing this.”

I lift my shoulder. “Did you think I was doing it out of the kindness of my heart?”

He chuckles. “Nah, I guess not. But I figured saving your own ass would help matters.”

“I can do time just like any other criminal. I’m not afraid of that.”

He nods and then he says, “You care to share this newfound information with me?”

I chuckle.

He makes a face like it was a shot. He grabs his smokes from his front pocket. Hitting the soft pack, he pulls one out with his teeth.

“I’ll talk to Calvin. Just don’t go fucking killing a bunch of innocent people or anything. He won’t take too kindly of mass murdering.”

“I don’t kill innocent people, Henry. Everyone who dies by my hand,” I hit my smoke, “they deserve it.” I push away from the wall.

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear that,” he says.

I smile. “I’ll be in touch.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Bexley

The wind howls outside making the windows whisper and the bones of the house creak. I sit on the floor of our bedroom looking at the boxes I’ve packed with a heavy but confident heart. The closet holds only my things now, but in the dresser rests two of his most worn t-shirts.

It’s been two days since my epiphany. I’ve been quiet about my thoughts, because Danny has voiced his wishes. He doesn’t want me to speak about Samuel. Part of me understands. I know it’s hurtful to him. I’m not an idiot.

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