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It takes surprisingly long for him to get hold of himself. Eventually, the guard lets him go. Tommy paces, fingers twitching. He shakes himself out, adjusts his shirt.
“Okay. Okay,” he mutters, and I’m thinking he’s calmed down, but just then he darts in and punches me, a good, solid left jab. Blood explodes from my nose.
The guards are worried. They step in to stop him, but he backs away, hands up. “He had that coming. Little punk.”
Blood runs from my nose and more streams of it come rolling down from my head, pooling in my eyes. I’m still trying to get my scattered wits back.
“Who have you talked to about this?” Tommy asks.
I make a mistake. I say, “No one.” But I say it too fast, and he picks up on it.
“No one, huh? What’s ‘no one’s’ name, huh?”
He looms over me and I don’t think the guards will be enough to stop him if he decides to nail me again.
“You guys are going to be dragged into something very heavy,” I say to the security guys. “I don’t think you’re getting paid enough to be involved in major felonies.”
They exchange a glance. I’ve hit home.
“Walk away right now,” I tell them. “You haven’t done that much so far. We can let—”
Wham!
Tommy nails me again and this one really hurts.
“Whoa,” he says, examining his effort. “That’s going to be ugly tomorrow. Of course”—he moves in close—“a couple days from now, you’ll be good as new, won’t you?”
“Dr. Holyfield, you gotta chill, man, he’s right,” the younger security guard says.
“It’s all recorded, geniuses,” Tommy says. “We already have video of you two. And about the only person who can make that go away is me. So you are already deep in it. But bagel boy makes a good point: You aren’t being paid well enough. Which is why I’m going to give you each, what, let’s say five grand?”
“Each,” the older guard growls.
Tommy grins at me. He reaches out one finger and swipes the blood from my forehead. He sticks the finger in his mouth and licks it.
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“Deal,” Tommy says.
And it’s that easy. My life has been bought for ten thousand dollars.
– 26 –
There’s a bell and a button. I stare at them for a while.
It’s late. And I don’t want Solo getting the wrong idea. Me coming to his room. Wearing … what am I wearing? Belatedly I look down and consider the matter.
The gym shorts I sleep in. And the T-shirt. And the lack of bra I also sleep in. And a pair of untied sneakers I slipped into on my way out.
I should have brought Aislin. She volunteered.
But, I don’t know, it just felt wrong. This is about my mother, which means it’s about me. And Solo.
I’m shivering, and it’s not because of what I’m wearing.
I push the buzzer.
He doesn’t answer. I buzz again. Nothing. I press the buzzer and hold it down. I don’t care if he’s asleep, he can damn well wake up and let me in.
