Bullets Are My Business (9781101616413) by Josh K. Stevens

face.”
    Jacks sounds bored. “Yeah. So?”
    â€œWhere is it?”
    I can hear Jacks rummaging around. “I think it’s in the pocket of the jeans I was wearing yesterday,” he informs me. “Hold on.” He sets the phone down. I wait patiently. There’s not much else I can do at this point. Somewhere downstairs Jacks utters a grunt of success before he picks up the phone again. “Yeah, I got it. Want me to bring it up?”
    â€œYeah.” I don’t wait for his response. I hang up the phone and walk back to the kitchen. I take two cups down from the cupboard and pour myself and Jacks a drink. Gotta start somewhere. Two minutes later, Jacks is banging on the door. I pull it open and he hands me an envelope. Mint green. I hand him a glass in return and he nods his gratitude. He leans in the doorway as I tear open the envelope and pull out the note.
    Now it looks like you need my help as well. Friday, ten, Gold Note.
    Again, there’s no signature. I hold it out to Jacks. “Looks like I got a date.” I light up a cigarette as Jacks reads the note and turns it over in his hands. He looks just as puzzled as I feel. He hands the note back to me and checks his watch.
    â€œFriday is two days away,” he points out. This must be why Jacks is a cop. His power of observation.
    I nod. “I’m aware of that.”
    â€œAre you gonna go?”
    â€œYeah,” I reply. “I’m curious.” I turn away from Jacks and make my way to my chair. I ease myself into it with a slight sigh. Jacks stares at me.
    â€œAre you sure you’re up for it?” he asks.
    â€œWhy wouldn’t I be?”
    â€œConsidering the fact that you almost got killed yesterday, I thought maybe you might play it low key for a little while,” Jacks explains.
    â€œYou sound like my mother.” Jacks narrows his eyes at me. I raise my hands. “I don’t have the time to play it low key. As you just pointed out, someone tried to off me yesterday. Twice.” I take a drag off the cigarette.
    â€œSpeaking of which, what are you gonna do about this place?” Jacks asks. I raise my eyebrows. He motions around the apartment.
    â€œI was thinking of getting some hanging plants,” I tell him. “Maybe a nice end table or an armoire for the corner.”
    Jacks shakes his head. “You know what I mean, smart-ass,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m assuming, just as you are, that someone wants you stone cold. Where are you gonna hole up?”
    I look Jacks straight in the eye. “I’m staying right here. I’m not leaving this place and going on the run. Those sons of bitches know where to find me. Bring the dirty bastards on.”
    Jacks clenches his jaw. “You got a fucking death wish?”
    I shrug. “No, I just don’t plan on taking any more shit.” Jacks stands up straight in the doorway. What does he want me to do? Go on the lam? I’ve seen what happens to guys on the lam. They survive for a little while, maybe they survive for a long while, but in the end, they always get caught and when they do, they get what’s coming to them. I’m not gonna be one of those guys. I can tell he wants to argue some more, but he knows it’s pointless. He moves on to another line of questioning.
    â€œDid you fuck her?” he asks.
    â€œWho?”
    â€œThat broad that was here last night with you,” Jacks says. “Meg.”
    â€œWhat makes you think she stayed over?” I ask. I intentionally avoid his question solely because I know it’ll drive him absolutely insane.
    â€œBecause I saw her leaving this morning as I was coming in,” he explains. I nod and turn my attention back to the letter. I can feel his eyes burning a hole into me.
    â€œWell?” he asks.
    I put the letter down again and stare at him stupidly. “Well what?”
    â€œDid you?”
    â€œDid I