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“Make sure they know it was only me here,” I tell him. “Remind them that this is what I can do on my own. If I ever decide to bring the rest of my boys down here, there won’t be anyone left to remember what happened, capisce?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell ‘em.” He nods as he tries to get his breathing under control.

“You’re a lucky man, aren’t you?”

He stares up and me and swallows audibly as I stand.

“You get to crawl out of here.”

After quickly surveying the place for any additional survivors and finding none, I leave him surrounded in bodies and bullet casings. Bloody footprints mark my departure.

The Camaro is still warm inside when I ease into the seat, che

ck my reflection in the rearview mirror, and calmly drive away.

I have the feeling I won’t need to return.

Chapter 5—Complicated Companions

The only sound is the Camaro’s engine. I hope Alina isn’t going to request a drug store stop because I want to get to my apartment soon. I haven’t been there in several days. Rinaldo thought it would be best for me to lie low until the gangbangers down south relaxed a bit, so I’d been staying at a hotel up north.

This afternoon, Duane “Junko” Keevers came by Rinaldo’s office. He referred to himself as Marcello’s cousin and offered his apologies. The gangs would stay south of Forty-seventh Street as they had in the past.

Rinaldo accepted the apology along with the stolen guns on the condition that he receive ten percent of the gang’s heroin sales for the next year. Junko would have been stupid not to accept the offer, and apparently he has some brains.

I’d been spending my time alternating between staring out the hotel window and staring at the hotel ceiling. When I got the all-clear notification, I headed south immediately, looking for Alina.

The first time I pass by the corner where I had seen her before, she is nowhere to be found. My head is swimming, and it’s hard to focus on the road. I stop at a gas station nearby and debate getting caffeine. I’m really hoping to get some sleep tonight, so I decide against it. The last thing I need is a can of Coke keeping me awake. I get myself a bottle of water and a pack of cigarettes instead. I smoke two as I lean against the hood of the Camaro and then make my way back to the street corner.

Alina is there this time, and I flag her over.

“Got a free night?” I give her a half-smile and cock my head a little.

“Not free,” she responds, “but I’m available.”

“Close enough.”

She climbs in, and I start to head towards Wacker Drive. My head feels heavy, and I slow down a bit more. It’s nearly midnight, and there’s thankfully little traffic. I think I might be swerving a bit.

“Are you all right?” Alina asks.

“I’m good.”

I change lanes and prepare to turn left. Just as I start my turn, someone walks out right in front of me. I slam on the brakes and the Camaro skids sideways before coming to a stop.

“What the fuck!” I yell. I look back over my shoulder to see if I can locate the pedestrian.

Ralph stands in the middle of the street, staring at me blankly.

“Shit,” I mumble as I place my head in my hands for a moment. I glance at Alina. She’s gripping the door handle tightly as she stares straight ahead with her mouth hanging open. “Sorry about that.”

I consider blaming my actions on a jaywalking hallucination, but that’s probably not a good idea. I reach down and grab the gearshift and then pull the car to the side of the street to get my bearings.

“Would you like me to drive?” Alina asks as she composes herself. “I remember the way.”

My immediate thought is to say no. No one else has driven this car since I got it, and I don’t think I want to change that. On the other hand, my head is practically spinning now, and Ralph is hanging out just in front of the hood of the car.

Maybe it’s best to give up.

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