Page 60 of The Sinner and the Gunslinger
Her only answer is a sly smile.
“So you can’t play poker?”
“I can get by.”
I scrub the back of my neck. “I guess it’s a good thing I told them you’re just my good luck charm.”
“What?”
“Figured you never were good at math.”
She gasps. “I was better at it than you!”
“No, you weren’t.” I put my hands in my pockets and start walking. “You were much better in the kitchen... baking cookies.”
“Asshole. I’ll remember you said that next time I bake.” She scowls at me and rushes to keep up but still looks perfectly high class. “Besides, I don’t need math to be good at cards.”
“If you want to count them, you do.”
“Whatever.” She blows air with derision. “I know how to read people. That’s better than counting cards.”
Moments before we arrive at the rotating glass doors, I take her gently by the arm. Pain flares in my ribs, reminding me I’m still hurt. It’s not as bad as I let on in the bathroom. I wanted her closer to me, so I lied about it.
Something dark exists inside me. Something so black it blocks out all the light... just like this city. The awareness of this darkness started the night my sister died—when I hesitated before screaming for help. Holding Leila now, seeing how good she looks and knowing the minefield we’re about to walk into—bad doesn’t begin to describe the lengths I’ll go to keep her safe. And mine.
It strikes me that I’ve been worried she’s changed too much to fall in love with me. I blamed that for her not saying it back to me in the bathroom. I keep remembering the sweet, innocent girl and wonder where she’s gone. She has the same shampoo, still likes to bake, and going by her Dom name—Madam Mina—she’s still weirdly obsessed with Dracula. Mina was Dracula’s wife... or something. But everything else about her is different. It’s me who’s changed. I hid all this darkness from her from the start. I wrapped her in cotton wool. Now I have to prepare her for a glimpse of that darkness—the reason my trigger finger gets itchy.
Leila’s brows pucker as she waits for me to talk.
I ask, “Do you remember when Wyatt asked Doc why a bad man like Johnny Ringo does the things he does?”
“Maybe. I haven’t watchedTombstonein a long time.”
She’s lying. She knows the words better than the Lord’s prayer. I check the rounds in my pistol, then re-holster it, and I make a show of doing it so everyone sees I have no fear. The valets pale. A couple waiting for a taxi steps away. Leila gapes at me as though I’ve gone mad as I continue. “And Doc said, a man like that has a great big hole right in the middle of himself. And he can never kill enough, steal, or inflict enough pain to ever fill it.”
“I don’t like where this is going.” She flattens her lips.
“And then Wyatt asked,What does he want?” I draw my second pistol and check the rounds. “And what did Doc say to that?”
“He said a man like that wants revenge.”
“For what?”
“For being born.”
“That’s right.” I’m so proud she remembers, but then I grow somber as my next words bring memories I’d rather forget. “That was the kind of man I became without you. The last glimmer of light in my world was gone. All that was left was darkness. And when we head in there, that’s who I’ll be.”
“What really happened with Andrei?” She cocks her head. “What did he ask you to do?”
My lips curve on one side. “Always so clever, kitty cat. You can read people better than anyone I know.”
I found Andrei in his office at the docks, already dressed in a navy suit for the game. Two of his goons followed me into the office, took the keys to the car, then patted me down.
“He’s clean,” the first guard says and then stands by the door.
Andrei sits behind a desk and brushes lint from his shoulders. “You have the nerve to come here, Sifon.”
Calling me a snitch. That’s rich coming from him. He’s the one who told the authorities I wasn’t dead in the house fire, and I was the one to blame for a missing dockworker. When my only option had been to leave town, I told one of our arms buyers Andrei was skimming. He deserved the problems that came with it.
