Page 117 of Make Them Bleed
“You won’t get away with this,” Juno says almost like a shout.
Etta’s eyes flatten. “I liked you better when you colored.”
Juno leans forward despite the zip ties. “You paid Devin through Nereus. You rewarded him for taking a deal you wanted Arby to take. When she refused, you arranged for the Five to silence her.”
“Not exactly,” Etta says. “The sponsor paid through Nereus. I structured the deal. Arby’s refusal created a gap. Filling the gap was not my line item.”
Bob looks sick. “Stop parsing,” he mutters at Etta.
I catch Juno’s eye. She’s scared. She’s also steady. I keep my words for her.
“We’re not dying on this boat,” I tell her.
She nods once. “Okay.”
Etta taps the folder. “We have two problems,” she says. “One: Merritt Voss. Two: Devin Pike. Both were sloppy. One wasunfortunate. The other was stupid.” She doesn’t look at Juno when she saysunfortunate. That omission is deliberate.
Bob looks at me. “You need to stop. Both of you. You need to stop the podcast episodes. Stop the meetings. Go quiet. We can make this go away?—”
“Like you made Arby go away?” Juno says.
He flinches.
Etta holds up a hand. “This is not working. Mr. Finn, you’re in security. You understand leverage.” She meets my gaze. “If you care about her, you will convince her to stop.”
“I care about her,” I say. “That’s why I’m not helping you.”
One of the muscle guys shifts, obviously bored with our convo. The boat rocks as a small wake slaps the hull. I breathe, count the seconds the surge gives me, test the chair legs for play. The aft leg has a millimeter I can work with. The ceramic blade waits under my belt. I need ten seconds and a distraction.
Footsteps echo on the dock. Voices. Etta tilts her head, listening. “He’s here.”
The hatch opens. Stanley Coleman ducks into the cabin like he’s stepping into a meeting he’s already decided the outcome of. Onyx ring. Black watch. Same suit. He smells like money and a store that doesn’t have a sale section.
He assesses in one sweep. Me. Juno. Bob. Etta. The room.
“Quickly,” he says, like we’re wasting his afternoon. “What do they know?”
“Enough,” Etta says.
“Too much,” Bob mutters.
Juno looks him in the eye. “I know you finger-gunned a man like you were in middle school.”
He smiles at that. “I do love an inside joke.”
I speak before Juno says something that earns a backhand. “You’re late. The city’s moving faster than you are.”
He ignores me. He looks at Etta. “Is she recorded?”
“No,” Etta says. “We swept her when we brought her in.”
Coleman steps closer. He studies Juno like a purist studies a forgery. “You look like her,” he says. “Not as loud. Sharper.”
“Untie me,” Juno says. “Say that again.”
He laughs. He turns to Bob. “We told you to keep your home tidy,” he says, irritated. “Now we’re cleaning your kitchenandyour street.”
Bob bristles. “I pay you.”
