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“Shut up and get me another beer.”
Tony shrugs and pushes his way out of the booth and toward the bar.
Liam drops his head to his fists, closing his eyes against the memories that Tony has dredged up. Liam never wanted to think about it again, but here it was. His past always coming back. His brain brings up the pictures; the shower, suddenly empty, the guy, his back to Liam. The makeshift weapon, heavy in his hand. The blood spattering across the tiles and wet thunk the guy made when he hit the shower floor, red life sluicing down the drain.
The table shakes as Tony edges into the booth and drops a bottle in front of Liam. He studies Liam from across the table as he takes a swig from his beer.
“Listen, man.” Tony nervously picks at the label on his sweating bottle. “I’m not the one to usually get all emotional about this kinda shit but, man, you gotta let it go. You did what you had to do to get Carlo off your back. It was him or you, man. If you hadn’t taken dude out, Carlo woulda had someone do you. You know how it works. Let it go.”
Liam takes a swallow of his beer to avoid talking.
“Anyhow, you wanna know about this job? You ain’t gotta…well, it’s not like the joint job.”
“That supposed to make me feel better?” Liam gives Tony a flat stare.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I just meant, this one is easier. Ethically speaking.”
“Now where’d you learn a word like ethically, Tony?”
“Shut the fuck up. Also, you do this job and you’ll be back in Carlo’s good graces. He never did feel like your punishment was adequate. This one’s important to him. Personal like.”
“I don’t give two shits about being back in Carlo’s good graces.”
“Man, I ain’t gonna sit here and argue about it with you. You wanna know what the job is or not?”
“Fine.” Liam clunks his bottle to the table and flicks his fingers at the envelope. “Let’s hear it.”
Tony picks at the envelope flap and pulls out of sheaf of papers stapled in the corner. He flips through the packet and grunts a couple of times. Liam is watching him read, his patience wearing thin.
“Peters,” he growls low, his patience finally running out.
“Yeah, yeah. Okay, it’s no problem. Just a little…recovery mission. Lost and found, as it were.”
“Come again?”
“Carlo’s got a couple of people he wants delivered to him. Unharmed.”
“So, who is it?”
Tony folds back the top paper and pulls a photo from underneath and tosses it to Liam.
“Woman and kid,” he says.
Liam catches the flying picture. “What?” He turns the picture over in his hands. Willow’s big, jewel-colored eyes are staring up at him.
Liam bites into his tongue to keep from talking. He studies the picture. It’s obviously a few years old and a work i.d. photo but it’s unmistakably Willow. Her golden hair cascades over her shoulders and her eyes shine like an amethyst. She’s smirking cutely, her eyes cutting ever so slightly to the side. Liam wonders who was making her want to giggle while getting her photo taken. He decides he hates whoever it was.
He flicks the photo back across the table at Tony. “This some kind of joke?”
Tony catches the picture and shoves it back into the envelope then starts to flick through the papers in front of him. “Nope. I know, I usually don’t do women either but it’s not a hit. He don’t want her hurt or nothing. Just…a delivery. He wants her and the kid.”
“Kid.” Liam grinds out.
“Yeah. I guess, I dunno...the kid is his. Carlo ain’t never had a kid before till he knocked up this whore. She took off ‘fore the kid was born. He wants ‘em back.”
Sliding his hands off the table, he clutches at his knees, digging his fingers in hard to keep his voice steady and his face neutral. “What’s it say about the kid?”
“Ahhh, nothing much. Just she left before the kid was born. Gonna be a lucky little son of a bitch, or daughter of a bitch as it may be. Daddy’s loaded.”
