Page 65 of The Triangle

“Really, bru,” he says, entering the bedroom. Christine and I are perched on the bed. “I want to hear. What is it that you think you know?”

“Fuckin’ don’t, dude.”

“I’m not kidding,” he says, putting his hands to his chest, feigning innocence. “I’d honestly love to know. Because I’ve been trying to figure out why the fok this is all happening, and I have no good answers.”

I glance at Christine. Her eyes show a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

“Brasil Lynch,” I say. The look Christine is giving off changes. Now it’s something more like a tortured perplexity. Like she knows the name. Maybe she heard it somewhere but can’t remember where. It’s possible that Alec never told her the name of the people he was having her do a hit on. That’s not unlike him. Half the time we were doing shit back in the day, we had no clue who we were doing it to or why.

Interestingly, the look on Alec’s face when he says, “Who?” is genuinely oblivious. Not that that means anything. He can put on whatever face he needs to for whatever the occasion calls for.

“Fuckin’ Brasil Lynch, dude. The guy I’ve been working with for the past four years.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Yeah? He says the same thing about you.”

“Well, then, how exactly am I into whatever I’m supposed to be into with him when he and I don’t know each other?”

“Because I believe him.”

“And you don’t believe me?”

“No.”

“Shame.”

He walks over closer. He swings around me and stands on the side of the bed beside Christine. He strokes her shoulder.

“How you feeling, luv?” he asks. “How’s the old brain box?”

“I’m… OK,” she says, haltingly. “Alec?”

“Yes, nunu?”

“Do you know what happened to me?”

He sighs out through his perfectly shaped, fits-his-stupid-fucking-face-exactly nose, closes his eyes for a moment, and nods, “Some. Maybe.” He sits on the bed with us and gently presses his forehead to hers. “Apparently, you were on a roof and someone threw you off. I’m guessing it’s one of the same someones who paid us a house call this morning.”

“Paid me a house call,” I say. “It wasn’t your fuckin’ house.”

“Yes, well, do you think it’s an accident that they only showed up once all three of us were there together? Because I’ve always thought you to be dead clever, bru, and if you think it’s a coincidence, then I need to reexamine that assessment.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“And why exactly did you move her from the apartment where I had her in the first place? Maybe that’s the better question to be exploring.”

I lean in toward him, because I don’t like what he’s suggesting. “What are you trying to say?”

“I don’t know. I asked you to look after her. To keep her safe. And you moved her to an unsecured location.”

“Unsecured? Fuck you, dude. We’re only alive right now because of me.”

“Is that how you see it?”

“You’re goddamn right it is.”

I don’t take my eyes off him. He doesn’t blink. He does smirk, however. Which makes me want to knock the simpering look off his face. My fist balls up, but before it can gain any momentum, Christine puts her hand over it. I glance down quickly and see her other hand holding one of Alec’s.