“To our night out,” I said.She smiled, met my toast, and sipped her drink. “This place isn’t so bad.”“You got a lot of spots like this back home?”She shook her head. “I didn’t come to fancy places like this. I’m more of a dive bar girl myself.”“Funny, I’m the same way. South Philly is filled with little holes in the wall, bars that have been there for generations. Some real cheap, trashy places, but you can get good and drunk and see the boys from the neighborhood there, so it’s not so bad.”“Philly’s a weird place. It seems so small, you know?”“It’s old. Not built in an ideal spot. Didn’t sprawl out like the newer cities. Chicago’s kind of that way too.”“I guess that’s true. I like it though. It’s got character.”“That’s what I think. Philly’s got everything you could want, and it’s cheaper than most other cities, plus it’s a lot smaller, so you can get around way easier.”“If you’re trying to get me to move here permanently, I think I’m sold.”I laughed. “I’m not sure you’d wa
I walked along the bar toward a large man up near the door. He was on the way to the restrooms, so I had a good excuse to pass him. I exaggerated my sway, just a little bit, making myself look drunker than I was. The guy had a goatee, a double chin, and a tiny sprout of hair at the top of his head. I noticed the Rolex first, then the way he leaned toward a much younger, much prettier girl and grinned at her with a creepy hunger in his eyes, and I’d watched him down three drinks since I’d started my first. He was rich, he was trying to impress a girl, and he was drunk, which made him ideal.It wasn’t a complicated maneuver. Amber stared at me, wild and ready to get up and chase me down, so I hurried a little bit. I turned the corner toward the restrooms and bumped into the guy, grunting as I did it loudly. My hand slipped into the pocket of the jacket he had hung on his chair— found nothing.“Shit, sorry,” I grunted, and slipped my hand into his pants pocket. It was tricky, but they we
Amber After that very strange, but surprisingly good night out at the bar, I did my best to hide from him for the next couple days. When we were sitting at the bar, our legs touching slightly, I felt it: that tingle down my spine, that buzz on my lips. We ate, he asked about me, made me laugh, and toward the end of the night, our fingers touched as we reached for the check, and I stared into his eyes, and I knew in that moment that if he’d kissed me, right then and there at the bar, I would’ve kissed him back. We walked back together, said goodnight, and I’ve been hiding from him ever since. I should hate him. I don’t understand what the heck would attract me to a guy like that. He robbed a man in front of me for fun. I hated that sort of thing, hated men that bragged about crime and thought it was exciting, hated that sort of macho arrogant crap most of all, and yet somehow, he was different. He didn’t seem to take himself too seriously, and he made jokes all the time, and of cou
“He has a point. You got shot four times.”“Six times, actually.” I touched the spots on my body like a prayer. “Drive-by shooting. It was apparently meant for him, but I stepped out of the house at the wrong time, and boom. They decided to settle for his daughter instead.”“That’s not supposed to happen,” Mona said, frowning. “We’re not supposed to be fair game.”“It’s not a game to them though, to guys like that. Those assholes don’t care if we’re innocent or not. They’ll hurt us if it gets them what they want.”“I’m sorry that happened to you.”I waved it away and stared out over the yard. I didn’t remember much from the aftermath, but I remembered it happening vividly: the black truck that pulled up, the guns that appeared in the windows, the way I screamed, the pain as it flared, the weird, almost calm knowledge that I was going to die. Then black, then waking up in the hospital, in pain, very, very angry, and all the rehabilitation, the surgery, the bullshit. It took months to g
MOLLYI had a problem.I was pointing a gun at a guy with green makeup on his face, and I kept thinking how he looked like that goblin guy from one of those superhero movies. A bubble of laughter was coming up in my sternum. I tried stopping it, I did, but once it was past my throat, it was hopeless.I bent over, my gun still in the air, and the laughter was kapoosh! Totally coming out of me.I winced, hearing a note of hysteria on the edge of it.“Molly!” That was my employee who was on the ground, his arms folded behind his head as he lay on his stomach, and I could hear how horrified he was.I raised my head back up, steadied my arm, and cleared my throat. “Let’s review the changes that just happened here. You”—I shook my gun, indicating the green guy—“came in here, to my bowling alley, to rob us. Correct?”He had a rifle aimed at me, and it was at this point I realized how crazy I really was.Like, seriously crazy.A rifle against my handgun. And I was laughing.I was verging on l
ASHTONThe screaming started again.Three hours into this interrogation, and he hadn’t given up a name.“He doesn’t know.” Trace pushed up from where he’d been leaning against the wall and dropped his arms. He raked a hand over his head, frustration coming off him, but I understood it. I did. It’d been three months since the bodies had been pulled from the water. While Justin Worthing had been a good employee, we were here because of Justin’s woman. Kelly. She’d been best friends, roommates, coworkers, and everything to Trace’s woman, Jess.They’d been sisters.“How’s Jess handling everything?”I was guarded in my approach.Jess and I, we weren’t on friendly terms. We weren’t on any terms, and for a valid reason. I’d put her through a torture session, more psychological than physical, but it put a rift between Trace and me.He and I had been best friends all our lives, attending the same private high school, same undergrad college. When he moved west for graduate business school, I we
MOLLY“Okay.” Dr. Sandquist was rubbing the top of her nose where it flattened between her eyebrows, and she had her other arm wrapped around herself. Her elbow was resting on her own arm. She looked tired, but that could’ve been because it was four in the morning.I first met Nea Sandquist in a pottery class. I met a lot of friends in pottery classes. It was kinda my outlet. I liked to take an edible, put on my headphones, and get all spiritual with the clay. I felt a connection to the movie Ghost that I didn’t think was healthy.“You are in shock, Miss Easter.”“Molly,” I piped in, kinda hoping for an edible right now.She sighed. “Molly. You’re in shock, but it doesn’t look like you’ve been physically harmed. The key you swallowed should make its way out of you within a day or two.” She shared a look with Nurse Sloane, the head honcho of all the nurses at the hospital. “I’d like to introduce you to our social worker. He can help you go through the emotional aftereffects of what hap
ASHTONI should be exhausted from hospitals by now.My uncles. My grandfather. All had been gunned down three months ago, on that night. And I had been here, watching from a similar hallway as each of them flatlined. Over and fucking over again.And the blood. Everywhere.I had to give the hospital staff their due, because they’d tried to save each one of them, but Jesus. They came out one by one, all covered in blood, and that feeling right there, watching each of them and seeing how they didn’t want to look my way—I would never ever forget that feeling. It fucking haunted me, every morning, night, and day.I couldn’t get that out of me, no matter how I tried, no matter how I focused, how I obsessed, how I thirsted, but now. Now, I had a new mission, one just for me.Molly Easter.She was sleeping, curled on her side and the blanket tucked over her shoulder.I had mixed feelings concerning Miss Easter, and they stemmed from a day that no one, including Trace, knew about. But right no
“He has a point. You got shot four times.”“Six times, actually.” I touched the spots on my body like a prayer. “Drive-by shooting. It was apparently meant for him, but I stepped out of the house at the wrong time, and boom. They decided to settle for his daughter instead.”“That’s not supposed to happen,” Mona said, frowning. “We’re not supposed to be fair game.”“It’s not a game to them though, to guys like that. Those assholes don’t care if we’re innocent or not. They’ll hurt us if it gets them what they want.”“I’m sorry that happened to you.”I waved it away and stared out over the yard. I didn’t remember much from the aftermath, but I remembered it happening vividly: the black truck that pulled up, the guns that appeared in the windows, the way I screamed, the pain as it flared, the weird, almost calm knowledge that I was going to die. Then black, then waking up in the hospital, in pain, very, very angry, and all the rehabilitation, the surgery, the bullshit. It took months to g
Amber After that very strange, but surprisingly good night out at the bar, I did my best to hide from him for the next couple days. When we were sitting at the bar, our legs touching slightly, I felt it: that tingle down my spine, that buzz on my lips. We ate, he asked about me, made me laugh, and toward the end of the night, our fingers touched as we reached for the check, and I stared into his eyes, and I knew in that moment that if he’d kissed me, right then and there at the bar, I would’ve kissed him back. We walked back together, said goodnight, and I’ve been hiding from him ever since. I should hate him. I don’t understand what the heck would attract me to a guy like that. He robbed a man in front of me for fun. I hated that sort of thing, hated men that bragged about crime and thought it was exciting, hated that sort of macho arrogant crap most of all, and yet somehow, he was different. He didn’t seem to take himself too seriously, and he made jokes all the time, and of cou
I walked along the bar toward a large man up near the door. He was on the way to the restrooms, so I had a good excuse to pass him. I exaggerated my sway, just a little bit, making myself look drunker than I was. The guy had a goatee, a double chin, and a tiny sprout of hair at the top of his head. I noticed the Rolex first, then the way he leaned toward a much younger, much prettier girl and grinned at her with a creepy hunger in his eyes, and I’d watched him down three drinks since I’d started my first. He was rich, he was trying to impress a girl, and he was drunk, which made him ideal.It wasn’t a complicated maneuver. Amber stared at me, wild and ready to get up and chase me down, so I hurried a little bit. I turned the corner toward the restrooms and bumped into the guy, grunting as I did it loudly. My hand slipped into the pocket of the jacket he had hung on his chair— found nothing.“Shit, sorry,” I grunted, and slipped my hand into his pants pocket. It was tricky, but they we
“To our night out,” I said.She smiled, met my toast, and sipped her drink. “This place isn’t so bad.”“You got a lot of spots like this back home?”She shook her head. “I didn’t come to fancy places like this. I’m more of a dive bar girl myself.”“Funny, I’m the same way. South Philly is filled with little holes in the wall, bars that have been there for generations. Some real cheap, trashy places, but you can get good and drunk and see the boys from the neighborhood there, so it’s not so bad.”“Philly’s a weird place. It seems so small, you know?”“It’s old. Not built in an ideal spot. Didn’t sprawl out like the newer cities. Chicago’s kind of that way too.”“I guess that’s true. I like it though. It’s got character.”“That’s what I think. Philly’s got everything you could want, and it’s cheaper than most other cities, plus it’s a lot smaller, so you can get around way easier.”“If you’re trying to get me to move here permanently, I think I’m sold.”I laughed. “I’m not sure you’d wa
Ren At first, the job wasn’t so bad. I hung around that big house, watched TV when I felt like it, bothered Amber when I got bored, and kept out of Mona’s way as much as I could. Things were quiet for a while, but after a few days it started to get real old, real quick. Amber wasn’t happy. That got pretty obvious by the fiftieth time she told me to go fuck off. Not that I minded if she told me to go to hell, to be totally honest—I sort of liked that she pushed back against me. The girl had spirit, she was a goddamn handful, but I could tell something hung over her. I kept thinking about those fresh-looking scars on her body, so like the bullet wound scars I’d seen on countless other guys, and had a couple myself, but that made no sense. I couldn’t imagine what a girl like her would be doing with bullet scars. One night, Mona decided to head into the city. Amber watched her go like a sad puppy, and I knew she wanted to go with her, if only to escape the house for a little while. I l
I climbed out of the water, intensely away of his eyes on my body. He was a good-looking guy, muscular but trim, with light eyes and dark hair slicked back. His pouty lips would’ve made a younger version of myself swoon, but I was over all that, over and done with it. I felt self-conscious, though, and realized that some of my scars were visible— the two on my leg, and the one on my shoulder. I quickly walked to my towel and grabbed it, wrapping it around myself, but too late. I caught him looking with a thoughtful frown. “We should set up some ground rules, if we’re going to do this for real.” He looked at me and shrugged. “All right. You played along with me, so I’ll play along with you. Give and take, the bedrock of any healthy relationship.” I doubted he’d ever been in a healthy relationship, but I didn’t say that out loud. “When I’m swimming, you can’t sit there and watch me.” “Fair enough.” “And you can’t follow me around all the time.” “That’d make me a shitty bodyg
Amber Vincent hustled me out to his house in Mt. Airy the next day, accompanied by my hired goon babysitter. I ignored him. It wasn’t easy though. He was a big guy, broad shoulders, stubble on his face and chin, but he held himself with this strange grace that I couldn’t totally understand. He commanded a room, and I kept sneaking glances in his direction, and caught him looking back at me, seemingly unashamed at being caught. I didn’t know what his deal was, but it annoyed the hell out of me, and drove me wild at the same time. The Mt. Airy house was Vincent’s wife’s place, a nice, pretty girl named Mona. She met us out front in black pants and a white button-down shirt. She was a few years older than me, with dark hair cut short, and dark brown eyes. She smiled, hugged me, glanced at Ren, then held me by the shoulders. “You must be Amber. Vince told me all about you.” “Yeah?” I asked, smiling a little, trying to ignore the way Ren loomed behind me. “I hope it’s all good thin
“If you’re asking me to fight your war, I’m not interested.” He shook his head and held up his hands. “Something simpler, actually. There’s a girl that came to live with me, daughter of a capo in the Chicago family. She went through something recently, they’re having their own problems out there, and she was sent here to get away from the heat. Unfortunately, things are getting hot around here now, too.” I thought of the girl I’d seen with the long dark hair and the intense expression. She must’ve been twenty, maybe a little older. It must’ve been the same girl he was talking about. “Not sure what she would have to do with me.” “I need you to be her bodyguard.” I let that sink in for a second then burst out laughing. He stared at me, eyes hard and cold, and I knew this wasn’t a joke—but it had to be. I wasn’t a bodyguard. I was a thief, and the occasional thug. I had a reputation for myself, sure enough, but nobody entrusted a life in my hands—much less the life of a young, bea
When Vince came calling, I had to answer. The Leone family was the largest mafia in Philadelphia, and I was still an independent guy, working all my jobs alone. I was happiest that way, and didn’t want to get tangled up by the Leones, but their money was good and the job was simple: track down a couple goons and beat the ever-loving shit out of them. I brought Floyd along and offered to split the pay sixty-forty. He thought it was an even split, but shit, that’s on him for not asking. “Either way. I hope they got the message.” Vincent smiled and clapped me on the shoulder, the one with the knife wound, and I grimaced. He had the good manners to look a little embarrassed before turning to Floyd. “Thanks for the assistance. I’m sure Ren will have your money soon.” “When I get paid, he gets paid,” I said, nodding. “Very good.” Vincent squeezed my shoulder. “I actually have another job for you, if you’d be willing to talk?” I hesitated. I really didn’t want to get too involved. The Le