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“Did anyone think to move the money off the boat?” James asks as what looks like a swarm of butterflies flutters in the air around the boat in the distance. Dollar bills. Pretty.
“Yeah,” Danny says dryly. “While being shot at, blown up, and discovering my wife’s moonlighting as a getaway driver, I remembered the money.”
“What a shitter,” I muse.
“A real shitter,” Danny agrees, stretching out his leg and wincing. “How the fuck did you know King sold all his guns?”
“Higham. British Intelligence. It wasn’t making any sense why King didn’t just get the money from Sandy for the guns. Turns out, he didn’t have any guns to sell. He offloaded his supplies when he thought he’d cashed in a virgin for one hundred million.”
“Thank fuck for Higham,” Danny chuckles. “We need to buy him a drink. I don’t think Sandy and Luis could have raised two hundred million, anyway.”
“Neither could we,” I chuckle. “And the cunt wanted Pearl back anyway.” To sell again. I shudder. “So where do we stand?”
“Luis scarpered, as did Sandy,” James says. “One out of three ain’t bad.”
“I had Sandy,” Danny gripes. “Until some fucker shot me.”
“Sure you had him,” James grunts. “Since when has your top speed been one hundred miles per hour?”
“When I’m fucking.”
James chuckles. “Anyway, you should talk to Brad,” he says, pointing my way. “I think he knows who shot you.”
The fucking traitor.
Danny swings his face my way. “Who?”
I scowl at James as he smiles his way through his smoke. “It was me. I fucking shot you.”
“What?” he blurts. “Why?”
“Because, to James’s point, you can’t run as fast as a BMW, and you would have got yourself killed. Remember last time you went after Sandy alone?” I ask? “When we all had to chase you down? You were shot three times, Danny.”
He pouts. “Bad luck.”
“Yeah, I feel like we’re operating on luck these days.” And luck won’t do. “And now our women are stepping in to save the day. I think it’s time to hang up the guns.”
“Not until I’ve killed Sandy and Luis,” Danny mutters, struggling to his feet. “And my wife.” He wobbles off as Beau and Pearl approach, both sheepish, especially Beau.
“Forgive me?” she purrs.
“No,” James snaps. “I can’t tolerate that level of recklessness.”
“So what are you going to do?” she asks. “Divorce me? Okay, my lawyer will be in touch.” She pivots and walks off, and James, of course, is soon making chase.
“I want my honeymoon first.” He scoops her up into his arms, carrying her to the café while she laughs loudly. I cast my eyes over to Danny and Rose and chuckle.
“You’re really showing her,” I call as he kisses Rose hard, holding a finger up in the air to shut me up.
I look up at Pearl. They tried to clean her up. It will be a while before the scuffs on her face fade. And my anger. I sigh and spread my legs, and she lowers gingerly between them, plucking my Marlboro from my fingers. I don’t challenge her. Never again. She can have whatever she wants, whenever she wants it. Within reason.
She exhales. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
I push my face into the back of her neck. “Anytime.” I reclaim my smoke and take one last drag before flicking it away. “Are you hurting?”
“Not really. All I can feel is relief right now.”
I smile. I’d like to feel only relief. “Come on, let’s get you home.” I stand and pull her up, making her face me while I ease her arms out of the wet hoodie and lift it over her head. I go to toss it on the ground, but she claims it, smiling mildly. She wants to keep my hoodie? “Want me to make you a mix tape too?” I ask, and she rolls her eyes. I release the side straps and lift the vest off. That, I do toss aside, turning her and pulling her back into my front and hugging her gently, looking out at the ocean, my chin on her shoulder. “It’s over,” I whisper, kissing her cheek. That’s not strictly true, Sandy and Luis are still out there, but for Pearl, it’s over. I reach into her pocket and pull the necklace out, holding it up.
