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“You’re dead,” he said into the phone. “You are a fucking dead manwalking."
“No greeting?” Jason’s voice greeted him from the other end of the phone. “Still lacking in the social graces, Isee.”
Max turned his back on the city in the distance and leaned against therailing.
“I should have known,” he said. “All these years… I should have known it wasyou.”
“Still looking back instead of forward,” Jason said. “You and Abby have that incommon.”
Rage flooded Max’s body, so pure and so hot it wiped out his vision. “Say her name again and I’m going to take my time when I killyou.”
“You’ve always had a flair for the dramatic.” Jason’s voice was earnest, like they were still teenagers, sitting in Max’s room and debating the merits of their favorite band. “That’s your problem — everything is emotional, reactive. All of your advantages, all the money and good parenting and stability, can’t make up for an inherent lack ofdiscipline.”
“I’m not interested in your opinion, on this subject or any subject. I just want to know why you did it,” Max said. “To Abby. To me. We were friends. You were like a brother tome.”
“We haven’t been friends for a long time, probably for a lot longer than you’re willing to admit. In fact, I’d venture a guess I was always a charity project for you, a way for you to feel benevolent,superior.”
Max thought about all the secrets he’d shared with Jason, all the hours they’d spent locked in intense discussion before Jason started spending more of his time at the Cartwright house with Max’sdad.
“I’m sure it makes you feel better to think that,” Max said. “But it’s not true. You were my bestfriend.”
“That’s a lie and you know it. Abby was your best friend. You were hers. It’s always been the two of you. I was just a prop, a crutch to give the two of you an excuse not to fuck in highschool.”
Max paged through the memories in his head, replaying moments he’d spent with Jason, all the times they’d spent with Abby. They’d been best friends, all three of them. There had been no hierarchy other than the one that had obviously lived in Jason’smind.
He shook his head. Jason was trying to unsettle him, trying to knock him off-balance on a day when he was already off-balance.
“Bullshit. Playing the victim was your prop. Being the martyr was your crutch. I wish I’d known you felt so sorry for yourself all that time — it would have saved me the trouble of feeling sorry foryou.”
“Feeling sorry for Abby and me made you who you are. You’d be nothing without us, just another rich kid with more money than ambition, more privilege thandiscipline.”
Laughter erupted over the phone. Max was surprised to realize it had come fromhim.
“Something funny?” Jasonasked.
“What’s funny is that you’re finally being honest,” Max said. “And it only took trafficking women, burning down your best friend’s house, and killing two innocentpeople.”
“Abby’s father wasn’t innocent.” Jason’s voice wascold.
“What about you?” Max asked. “Are youinnocent?”
“I may not be innocent, but I am powerful, and I’d take that any day of theweek.”
“Even if it’s your downfall?” Maxasked.
“Eventhen.”
“Good to know. Because it willbe.”
“And I suppose you’ll be the one to do the job?” Jasonasked.
“You gotit.”
There was a long pause before Jason spoke again. “Well, come and get me,brother.”
The phone went dead and Max turned to face the city, imagining Jason standing at the window in the Tangier’s Presidential suite, surrounded by guards, under assault from all sides, moving pieces on hischessboard.
Max opened the door to the house and returned to the living room. Abby was still asleep on the couch, the fire burning low in the hearth. He stood watching her, Jason’s words echoing through hishead.
Come and get me,brother.
Jason might have an army of pawns. He might even have bishops andknights.
But he didn’t have a queen — and Max would do anything for hisqueen.
