Page 58 of Edge of Ruin
“So get it over with. Dump me. I can’t stand the suspense any longer.”
I pressed my hand against my trembling mouth. “Dump you? How could I do that? That would imply that we were involved in a relationship. But we never have been. At least not according to you. You never let me get that close. You just wanted to fuck me, remember? And stay in the moment. So that’s where I’ve been living, Jack. For weeks, now. The moment.”
“Maybe. Looks like the moment has ended.”
“I figured that out all by myself.” I mopped angrily at my eyes with the backs of my hands. “Party’s over, huh? Everybody out of the pool.”
“Time for you to move on to the next big adventure,” he said. “No regrets.”
I turned away, so I wouldn’t have to see the look on his face. Struggling to control my own.
“Stay up in the apartment for as long as you need to, of course,” he added. “I’m not throwing you out to the wolves.”
A derisive laugh jerked out of me. “Hah. As if I would. Don’t worry. I’m absolutely convinced. I’ll be gone as soon as I can pack.”
I started toward the door as if I were walking the plank. One sign from him, the slightest softening, and I’d fall over backward. I’d marry him in a heartbeat. I’d have his children. I’d weld myself to him.
I stopped moving when I passed in front of him, still hoping.
“Better sooner than later,” was all he had to say.
Well, then. No dice. I kept on going. Walked outside, as stiff as a robot.
I headed up to the apartment and began to pack. I hadn’t bought much stuff since I’d been here, just a set of Miraben’s plates. I’d been sprawled all over Jack’s life, so there had been no need. I’d been eating off his dishes, using his soap, sleeping in his bed. Too busy madly boinking to think of how I was going to feel when it all came crashing down on my head. As I had known that it would. Goddamn it, I’d known. I was so pissed at myself, on top of the heartbreak.
I filled my arms with shopping bags and staggered out to the van. Soldier on, I told myself. You’ve been through worse. But I didn’t feel strong. Why bother soldiering on? To where? I was going nowhere. My life sucked. Snake Eyes was welcome to it.
Well, then again. Maybe I wouldn’t go quite that far.
Several of my new Miraben dishes broke as I tossed the box down onto the floor of the van. I didn’t bother to check how many.
Chapter Sixteen
John waited until the last few people came out of the Wilder Gallery. An hour or so ago there had been an exodus of well-dressed buttheads flooding out of the big opening for some hotshot new artist. The ones trickling out now were the employees of the gallery itself.
He shrank back into the shadows behind a dumpster as the skinny foreign slut he remembered from before came out. Her tits were shoved up into a glittering silver tube dress, her lips shiny with hot-red lipstick, and her black hair was freshly bobbed with cruelly short bangs, like a dominatrix. Wilder’s assistant, Damiana.
She was usually the last one to go, apart from Wilder himself. Probably stayed behind to suck the boss’s dick.
And there was Wilder, a few minutes later, stepping out the door. Last one to go. Bastard didn’t trust anyone else to close for him. First, he armed the alarm with his remote, punching in a code. Then he got to work on all the locks and bolts. After came the rolldown metal door.
John sauntered over while he was still working on the locks. “Evening, Mr. Wilder.”
Wilder jerked back, hit the door, and dropped his keys. “What?”
John smiled, toothily. “Good evening,” he repeated.
“What are you doing here?” Wilder’s forehead was already shiny.
“I’m here to discuss the phone call we had a couple of hours ago.”
“What’s there to discuss? I did exactly as you asked, okay? I already told you everything I managed to learn in our phone conversation. Rafael Siebling was here tonight at the opening. He ran into D’Onofrio yesterday, in Oregon. Some place called Pebble River. She’s opening a shop there. That’s what I was told, and that’s absolutely all I know. I did not speak with her, nor did I get her number, or her address. I cannot help you any more than that. So, uh, good night.” Wilder gave him a bright, toothy smile that said, Alrighty, then, you big inconvenient asshole, you’re dismissed.
John waited until that smile started to quiver and unravel into the raw components of pure fear.
“How about Rafael Siebling’s address?” John asked softly.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have it. We are not colleagues. We don’t travel in the same circles. But it shouldn’t be all that hard to find. His gallery is very hot these days, though I can’t imagine why. He has no taste. All flash, no content. I don’t have his number in my cell phone because he’s the last person I would ever call. I don’t even know why he came in here tonight. To gloat, I suppose.”
