Page 19 of Corrupted Empire

My brow knits together, and I blink. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course not.”

“I’m just running through a list of unforgivable slights,” Tracey says with a grin. “Am I close at least?”

“Not even close.”

“So then what did she do?”

Tracey doesn’t seem to care that she is one false step away from offending the man who owns the place she makes her living. Now that she has gathered her courage, she is on a roll. She reminds me a little of Alexis in that respect, and this makes my tongue a little looser than it should be.

“She betrayed my trust,” I reply.

Tracey cocks a brow. “But not by cheating on you?”

“No.”

“And you’re sure whatever she did is an absolutely unforgivable offense?”

“It has to be,” I say. “I don’t have the privilege of showing any weakness.”

Tracey nods thoughtfully. “And you would consider forgiveness to be a weakness.”

“Yes.”

I tip back my glass and send the rest of its contents splashing down my throat. Tracey begins to pour me another.

“I would say the opposite,” she says, sliding the glass over to me. “Personally, I’ve never been good at relationships. I’m a selfish person, and it has always been much easier for me to give up on a person rather than to accept their faults, so to me, the idea of working through problems, seeing the other person’s side, and learning to forgive them…Well, I would say that all takes a lot of strength. Cutting ties and trying to banish them from your mind is the much easier, weaker thing to do.”

I’m not sure what to make of Tracey’s candor. She doesn’t know the nuances of mine and Alexis’ fraught relationship. She doesn’t know what Alexis did.

Still, somehow what she says makes sense in a way. I always thought pushing Alexis away was a show of strength. I never thought that anyone might view the action any other way.

“I think I’ve had enough,” I say, pushing up from the bar.

I don’t know whether I mean that I’ve had enough to drink or enough of this uncomfortable advice, but either way, I leave the full glass on the bar top. Tracey’s smile wavers. She thinks she has offended me. I leave her a generous tip to communicate that she has nothing to worry about.

I leave the club via one of the back doors that leads into the parking lot. The cement is bathed in the orange glow of a single streetlamp, leaving a ring of impenetrable darkness beyond. I spot the town car a dozen or so yards away and set one foot carefully in front of the other. I am a little unsteady on my feet, so throw all my concentration into making it to the car without tripping over myself.

A man materializes from the shadows to my right. He is heavily tattooed, with a four-leafed clover stamped proudly on his neck to designate him as Irish Mafia. I don’t know whether he is here to pass a message or to kill me, but I don’t give him the chance to do either. I whip my gun out from my shoulder holster and put a bullet in his skull.

At least, I mean to. My aim is sloppy from the drink, and the bullet slices through his neck instead. He falls to the ground, choking on the blood gushing from his carotid artery.

David has hopped out of the car at this point and is standing with his gun drawn. “You okay?”

I walk past the dying man, shrug, and get into the back of the car. “Take me home.”

8

Alexis

It is raining outside. Thick, fat drops that pelt the pavement like bullets. It patters against the window, hypnotizing me as I stare out into the gray, my cup of coffee going cold in my hands. Harry is sitting on the rug in front of me, moving the rolling pin from his kitchen play set back and forth through the thick shag. There are two guards lurking somewhere in the apartment, but it feels quiet and empty. Just me, Harry, and the endless rain.

I set my coffee down, stretch out on the sofa, and look up at the camera in the corner. The red light blinks, and I wonder if Gabriel is in his office watching us right now.

“Is it raining there too?” I wonder aloud.

There is no answer, of course. Just the steady blinking of the red light.

It feels good to talk to Gabriel through the camera, even though it’s unlikely he’s actually listening. He is probably way too busy with whatever Mafia drama is going on this week. Between the Cartel and the Irish, it seems like he has his hands full.

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