Page 79 of College Town

“Listen–”

Lawson jerks upright, and Tommy’s hand slips off his neck and lands on his thigh with the force and sound of a slap. “No, you listen. I am not becoming a drug dealer. I know my job is shit, and I have no future prospects, but I’m not selling heroin to college kids, you dumbass!”

Tommy sighs, and sits back on his heels, which crumples his jacket and hikes his pants legs up around his ankles. His socks, Lawson notes stupidly, are maroon.

“I told you,” Frank says. “Did I not tell you? This isn’t going to work.”

“It could,” Tommy says, tone stubborn, gaze pleading.

“No.” Lawson swipes a hand through the air. “Absolutely not.”

“Told you,” Frank repeats.

~*~

“Let me explain.”

Lawson lets the fridge door fall shut and presses the cold water bottle he’s just pulled from it against his forehead. He’s cooled off. Some. First figuratively, and now literally.

Tommy stands beside the fridge, a hand braced on either counter, blocking him in, as though Lawson couldn’t pick him up and set him aside if he wanted to.

“Right,” Lawson deadpans. As his panic quiets to manageable levels, the snark levels are rising as a counterbalance. “Because you’ve explained everythingsowell up to this point.”

Tommy looks unimpressed. “Will you shut up and listen to me? Yeah, things suck now. They’re scary.”

“I’m not scared. I’m not a fucking child.”

“You’re scared,” Tommy insists. “Anyone would be. And yeah, things are going to get more complicated, but theywillget better.”

He’s so earnest, so sure…

Lawson can’t take it. “Pardon me if I don’t believe you.”

Tommy sighs. “Listen,” he says, firmly, brows going up in a way that indicates he doesn’t want to be interrupted like in the car.

Lawson rolls his eyes, but listens.

“Those guys you met today are low level. They’re idiots – but they’re not so stupid that they won’t tell Gino about my offer. Gino’s serious, and he’s proud, and if college kids are dropping like flies he knows that’s bad for business. He’ll see my offer as a display of weakness, and he’ll pounce on it. His thought is gonna be that after he’s played along with me for a few months, it’ll be easy to knock you off and squeeze me out of Eastman for good.”

“Oh,” Lawson says, brightly, “is that all? I die and shit’s hunky dory?”

Tommy’s responding scowl is ferocious. “Listen to me: you will not die. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Sure.”

“Lawson, I’m being serious.”

“I can see that, because your eyebrows are doing the thing.” He mimics it best he can.

“Lawson.” It’s nearly a shout, and Lawson rears back. Tommy opens his mouth and breathes raggedly a moment, then shakes his head. “I can’t – look. I’m going to wipe the Giacolettis off the board. Iam,” he says, though Lawson hasn’t argued. “Frank and I have been working a long game for a long time. This is the last puzzle piece. I have to let Gino think he’s got one over on me. He’ll get sloppy. We’ve already got the snare in place: we just need to spring the final trap. This, here,you, that’s the last piece.”

“Are you saying I was a part of your long game?”

“No. Not originally. You just kind of…fell into my lap.”

“Nah. You were always the one in my lap.” He can’t muster a teasing tone, but Tommy blushes all the same and turns away from him. Rests his elbows on the counter and massages his temples.

“Can you trust me?” he asks.

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