Page 49 of Cunning Lies
“Nice to meet you all,” Mr. Harry says.
Nice.That word haunts me.
We take our seats around the table, and a server brings us water and our choices of liquor. Music hums through the speakers, but in my mind, Johnny Cash’s gravelly voice sings, “God’s Gonna Cut You Down.” I envision Patrick’s blond curls on top of his wiry body, and I split his skull down the middle with a machete.
Patrick Petrus. A nice man. A nice man who deserves a nice death. The part that kills me is that this isn’tjustabout jealousy—that I wasn’t the one to take Vi’s virginity.
It’s about her safety too.
He’s supposed to be her family, and he’s the biggest predator of them all. A bottom-dweller ready to cannibalize his own cousin.
I should be focused on the meeting. Harry and I are both smooth talkers who wash over deals and make fortunes a reality, but my mind is scattered. Vi’s words repeat in my ears:Just be nice to him. Just be nice.The fact that Patrick and Jay manipulated Vi into believing they were protecting her dominates my thoughts.
Sheneverhad a chance. It stews inside of me as I try to make sense of it. Vi told me to be nice, and by sitting here, not doing anything about it, I’m being nice.
But every breath of air is one too many for Patrick.
“Kenzo?” Tomo asks, interrupting my thoughts. “You all right?”
I scan the room quickly. I drifted off into my thoughts and have no idea what we’re talking about. I can’t focus. Not until I take care of Patrick.
I take a deep breath, then smile at Mr. Harry.
“Excuse me,” I say. “I’ve got some pressing business, but I’d like to reschedule for a private meeting. I’d love to get your insight into GHF’s future prospects.”
“Of course,” Mr. Harry says. We shake hands again and I bow my head at Tomo.
“I’ve gotta take care of this,” I say in a low voice. Tomo nods back and doesn’t ask questions. He trusts me, just like I trust him.
“Tell me later,” Tomo says.
I acknowledge Dice and Ronin on the way out. I momentarily consider asking Dice to send a few of his men my way in case Patrick tries to run, but this is a job I want to take care of myself. It’s the best way I can guarantee holding onto Vi’s wishes to be nice.
Be nice, Kenzo,my mind mocks.He was just trying to help her, Kenzo.
My wife wants me to beniceto her cousin. It’s such a simple task.
And I will benice.
But there’s nothingniceabout the way I drive. I tailgate every car in front of me, darting around until I finally make it to my destination. I put on my gloves and text one of my handlers, telling them to get Patrick and bring him to John’s Town on Boulder Highway.
The casino is lit up like it means something, but that’s the thing about Boulder Highway. You don’t find tourists here, but seasoned residents, addicts, and people like me. People who can’t seem to crawl out of this fucking hellhole. People who need to be knocked down.
Nice people.
I gave Patrick a warning. I told him not to touch my wife. I simply didn’t realize it would extend retroactively. That’s usually not my deal, but with Patrick, I’ll be nice and make an exception.
A few minutes later, I find Patrick resting against the casino’s exterior, his ankles crossed. A button up navy blue shirt and white slacks dons his frame like he’s ready for a job interview on a cruise ship. He’s tall, probably a year or two younger than me, but all I see is his hands on Vi.My wife.
Patrick straightens his shirt. He really thinks we’re going to talk business right now. And we are, in a way. Vi is my business. It’s better to keep your enemies close to you, right under your thumb, where you can crush them.
“Hey man,” Patrick says. We shake hands. There are no false niceties when it comes to Patrick. He didn’t learn Japanese phrases before meeting me. He treats me like a brother-in-law, and there’s something I can respect in that. No games. Just business.
And so, I get right to it.
“Vi tells me you want to sell,” I say.
He nods eagerly. “Yeah, man. I’ve been waiting to hear from you. Shabu Eight is the shit. I—”
