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Dane glares daggers at him but steps away. I edge toward Dane and put my hand on his arm. Benny drags in a few choked breaths and heaves himself painfully to his feet.
“I want my money back,” he repeats, his wary gaze shifting from me to Dane. “Come on, Armstrong. Your first woman fugitive, and you go AWOL on me? What the fuck?”
I look at Dane. “I’m your first woman fugitive?”
“He’s always had a moral code about not hunting down females.” Benny snorts in disgust and staggers over to the minibar. He grabs a bottle of water and cracks it open. “Refused to take the job. Then I gave him your folder, and he calls me ten minutes later and tells me if I give you to someone else, he’ll hunt me down and kill me. Whatever. Armstrong’s always been a loose cannon. So I agree. Thirty-five percent, I said. Then I don’t hear from him again. I told you, I knew something was up. Just didn’t realize it was his dick.”
He laughs hoarsely. Dane starts forward, his hands fisting.
“Dane.” I tighten my grip on him and move closer. “What do you want, Benny? I told you you’d get your money back, but I need another week or so. Please.”
“What the fuck for?” Benny tilts his head and swallows half the bottle of water.
I debate how much to confess, but then figure I’ve got nothing to lose by telling him the truth. It’s not as if Benny stands a chance of taking me away from Dane and hauling me to the police.
He could, however, call the cops and have us both arrested.
Keeping my hand on Dane in case he flies into a rage again, I explain the situation to Benny—starting with my bogus arrest and ending with the still-unformed plan to prove that Eddie is a lowlife, scumbag, drug-dealing pimp who needs to be locked away for several life sentences.
To his credit, Dane stays silent and lets me speak, though his big frame is taut with barely leashed anger.
Benny peels open a candy bar, eyeing us both warily. “So you’re going to take this supervillain down? You and what army?”
“I am the fucking army,” Dane growls.
I can’t decide if I want to roll my eyes or rip his clothes off.
“That’s why we need a little more time,” I tell Benny. “To finalize a plan and get some evidence. Then I swear I’ll turn myself in. You’ll get your money back, and God willing, the police will realize they made a big mistake and go after Eddie instead of me. Could you please just back off for another few days?”
“I should call the cops right now,” Benny says around a mouthful of chocolate. “Have them arrest you both.”
“I should string you up by your balls and beat you bloody,” Dane retorts.
Benny winces. “Ouch, man.”
“Benny.” Exasperated, I step toward him. “Please.”
He tears open a bag of chips. He eats a few and looks at the ceiling as if he’s considering the request.
“Answer her,” Dane barks.
“Okay, Armstrong.” Benny shifts his gaze to Dane, a gleam appearing in his eyes. “I’ll give you both until Friday. Under one condition.”
“What?”
Benny shoves another handful of chips into his mouth. “You cook me a goddamn steak.”
ChapterFourteen
Hannah
Dane is grimlysilent as we cross the Bay Bridge into Oakland. He stops at a grocery store, emerges with three full bags, and drives to a modest residential neighborhood populated by older stucco houses and duplexes. Streetlamps cast circles of yellow light over the cracked sidewalks.
He pulls into the driveway of a one-story bungalow fenced off from the neighboring houses. Benny is already parked on the street. He exits the car, his phone in his hand.
Ignoring him, Dane unlocks the front door and stalks into the house. Benny and I follow. It’s a small, tidy house with comfortable furniture, framed classic movie posters, and a kitchen that opens onto a postage-stamp lawn.
Benny grabs a beer from the fridge and plants himself in front of the living room TV to watch a sports channel.
