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“It’ll be days—weeks—before the name Verlice comes up.” Arsenio picked up the pool cue. “Which gives us plenty of time.”
“Whoa, no, no, no, no,” he cried. “There’s no need for that. Tell me what you want. Money?” Verlice rushed out. “I’ve got a safe full downstairs. It’s yours.”
I backed toward the door. Leaving was the last thing on my mind.
Paris said his good-boy routine was an act. Meeting the company he kept assured me of that. But watching this despicable human being, who accepted the risk of his brother’s business, cower and plead before a twenty-one-year-old man who smiled charming in the press photos...
What did Verlice know that I didn’t?
“I’m not here for money.” Arsenio moved slow, rounding the bar. “They don’t send me for collections.”
“You’re right, of c-course.” Buckets ran down his face and soaked his collar. “I’ll cut you and the Bedlam Boys in on the business. I’ll— I’ll— I’ll get you a girl,” he stammered. “As many as you want. Free.”
“Got one of those.” Arsenio winked at me. “I’m not here for negotiations, Verlice. The Bedlam Boys sent out a clear message. No side businesses. No crime rackets. No bringing in unwanted attention from federal agencies. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if someone else unraveled this ill-conceived operation as easily as we did?
“They would’ve swarmed this place. Picked apart your financials. Interviewed people who’d remember seeing Cairo roll through here every Friday. You put us at risk.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I—”
“Are you sorry? Honestly?”
His head almost popped off he nodded so hard. “I am. I’ll go straight. I’ll pay on time. I’ll pay double! Nothing like this will ever happen again, Mr. Creed, I swear. I didn’t think of the risk to you, or Mr. Sharpe, or the Bedlam Boys.”
Arsenio leaned back, resting the cue across his shoulders. “Don’t know why we accepted that name. I never did like being called a boy.”
“Men,” Verlice corrected. “Bedlam Men.”
Sighing, Arsenio shook his head, lips pushed up. “You know what? Okay. You sound sincere, and everyone deserves a second chance, right?”
What? A second chance? This man is a monster in human skin!
Verlice’s face slackened. “Yes,” he breathed. “Please, give me another chance.”
“Come on.” Arsenio held out his arms. “Let’s shake like gentlemen.”
He took a step and halted.
“What’s the matter?” Arsenio asked. “I give you another shot, and you won’t even shake my hand?”
“Of course, I will.” He hurried out from the bar and shook roughly. “Thank you, sir. Thank you so much. You won’t regret this.”
“I don’t believe I will, but what do you think?” Arsenio turned Verlice to face me. “We can trust him, can’t we? He’d never do something like this again.”
Looking into those blue, shining eyes, I said, “No. We can’t trust him.”
“Yes, you can—”
“Shh.” Arsenio clamped on his hand, wrapping the other around his neck. “The lady is speaking. Why do you say that, de Souza?”
A thousand visions flashed through my mind.
Gran. Sheriff Sharpe. Cavendish. The letters. Jennifer. Bella. Frankie. Paris.
“What did you and your friends do to those women?”
Verlice said nothing.
“Answer the question,” Arsenio hissed.
“We— We didn’t do anything.” His eyes rolled in their sockets, searching for an escape. “I’m a way station, like he said. I give them a place to eat and sleep for the night. That’s it.”
And then it came. That perfect, clear moment of calm as the path reveals. My heart slowed. My skin cooled.
“He’s lying,” I spoke, but the voice wasn’t mine. “Someone who can’t admit what he’s done, can hardly say he’s sorry for it. He wants us to walk out of here so he can go running to his brother. They’ll pack up their money and the women they have left, and set up their operations elsewhere.”
“No! I won’t. You’ve got it wrong,” he said. “I’ve been wanting out for a long time. This is my chance. With the FBI on the truck, my brother can’t deny it’s getting too hot. He’ll let me out.”
“You want out?” I repeated.
“Yes.”
“Your brother’s been forcing you to continue all this time?”
He bobbed his head. “Yes.”
I closed the distance between us. My gaze moved down to the bulge I noticed in his pocket. Slowly, I reached inside and pulled it out. The condom roll unfurled, smacking the floor.
“I’d say that’s telling,” Arsenio rang in the silence. “What do you say, de Souza? Do we forgive him?”
I opened my mouth. “No.”
“No, wait—”
Arsenio wrenched, yanking his arm up his back.
Snap.
“Ahhh!”
His shout blew me off my feet. I stumbled back—calm moment disappearing. I can’t say I truly understood what Arsenio came here to do. Rough him up. Scare him shitless. Take the bribe and walk away. I could’ve pictured any of those possibilities from the man I was coming to know, even if I couldn’t know which one.
Arsenio threw him over the bar. Verlice crashed into the shelves, toppling them, and bringing the last of his stock down on him.
