Page 105 of Long Way Down

“What?” Toly echoed.

“That’s what I asked you?”

Narrow nostrils flared as Toly exhaled. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

“Are you asking because you care? Or because you think I’ll do something stupid if I’m distracted with personal bullshit?”

Toly considered a long moment. Too long. “The first.”

“Ha. Liar.”

Toly shrugged and turned to shuffle back to the kitchen, ripping the top off the box.

Pongo sat up and put his socked feet on the rug to watch the truly hilarious spectacle that was Toly reading the instructions four times, muttering to himself, and finally successfully microwaving one of the Hot Pockets. He shuffled back a few minutes later, bearing a Red Bull and the offensively pale pastry steaming on a paper plate. He settled in the chair across the coffee table and stared dejectedly at his breakfast.

“Dude. Just swing by Dunkin’ or something.”

Toly glanced up through his black fringe, scowling. “You’re supposed to keep the place stocked.”

“And obviously, I’ve been a little busy. So do us both a favor and run get one of those bagel sandwich deals. They’ve even got veggies in ‘em if you’re all into health food and shit.”

The scowl became more of a dejected frown. “I don’t have any cash.”

Pongo’s exhaustion and ill temper were slowly giving way to incredulous curiosity. Toly never talked about himself, which meant he wasn’t a complainer, normally, but also meant that Pongo knew nothing about him aside from the fact that he was Russian, and had once been part of the Kozlov bratva. Tonight, this morning – whatever the hell it was – he was downright bitchy, and Pongo wanted to know why, suddenly.

“Wait,” he said, “you’re not gonna tell me that you’re working security for Raven, who’s rich as shit, and she can’t throw you a granola bar or something? Does she not feed her crew?”

“No, she–” Toly halted. Frowned some more, glanced down at his plate. “She offers.”

“And what? You’re not into kale smoothies and cucumber sandwiches? Whatever models eat? Air or some shit.”

A beat. “There’s a catering cart.”

“Then I’m failing to see the problem, my man. Sounds like you’ve got it made.”

The frown delved to new depths. His jaw worked a moment, as though he were chewing over his words, reluctant to give voice to them. Finally, he said, “I don’t want to take advantage.”

“Advantage?” Pongo felt his brows go up. “Dude, you’re working a job, basically round the clock. How much sleep did you get? Four hours tops? If there’s a catering cart, fucking use it, man. Never say no to free food. Hell, it’s not even free. You’re paying for it with your super Russian spy skills.” He lifted his hands to his face and mimed binoculars. “She’s no dummy. She knows you’ll be more alert if you eat real shit instead of Hot Pockets.”

“You said these were good.” He sounded betrayed.

“I said the pepperoni were better than ham and cheese.Goodwasn’t a part of that sentence.”

Slowly, Toly lifted the pocket with two fingers and took a delicate bite from one corner. Chewed, swallowed. Then just as slowly leaned forward and set the plate on the coffee table, lips forming a subtle moue of distaste.

“Okay,” Pongo said, “you seem like you’re having some sort of crisis here. Hot Pockets and maybe some sort offeelingsabout Fox’s sister” – Toly started to protest, and Pongo waved him silent – “and I’m gonna be a good friend and not ask about it because I know you like to pretend you don’t have feelings.

“I, on the other hand, am in touch with my emotions in a very mature and healthy way.”

“Fuck you.”

“No. Listen. I’m going to ask for your opinion on something, which we’re both going to regret, but, like, take it seriously, yeah? This is serious.” It was, and as he said the words, he heard the shift in his tone. He found he couldn’t maintain his shithead charm and talk about Dixie, and the way he was worried for her. “It’s about Dix – about Detective Dixon.”

Toly perked up a fraction. He didn’t look interested, per se, but more attentive for sure. “The one you’re fucking.”

“You don’t have to say it like that.”

A single, black brow lifted. “Youarefucking her. In exchange for information.”

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