Kim Oh 2: Real Dangerous Job (The Kim Oh Thrillers) by K. W. Jeter

table, fingers tapping. “What do you need it for?”
     
    “Stuff,” said Donnie. “I could go to work with it. Like you and Kimmie do.”
     
    Cole glanced over at me. “Kimmie?”
     
    “Give me a break,” I said. “He’s a kid.”
     
    “Might not be a great idea.” Cole had turned his gaze back toward my brother. “There aren’t a lot of openings for hit men in wheelchairs.”
     
    That was about the degree of politeness I expected from him. Fortunately, that kind of blunt talk never bothered Donnie.
     
    “What about you?” Donnie nodded toward Cole’s legs sprawled awkwardly under the table. “That’s how you are.”
     
    “I was grandfathered in.”
     
    “I’m glad you boys are getting along so well.” I set the plates on the table. “Really warms my heart.”
     
    Cole sat staring at the food in front of him. Like he’d never seen anything like it before.
     
    “This is weird,” he said at last. “I can’t do this.”
     
    “Can’t do what?”
     
    “I shouldn’t be here.” He pushed himself back from the table. “Not really my thing.”
     
    “You promised.” I had already sat down across from him. “You said you would.”
     
    “Yeah, but . . .” His face had turned even grimmer. “It’s just wrong. I shouldn’t be here. Not someplace like this.”
     
    Great , I thought. I’ve just taken some guy who kills people for a living out of his comfort zone . I couldn’t even throw a dinner party.
     
    “Look.” I gazed straight into Cole’s eyes. “You can do this. Just bear down.”
     
    “I’m sorry.” That was Donnie speaking up. “I just wanted to meet you. That’s all. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
     
    “Yeah, that’s cool, kid.” Cole nodded. “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m the screwed-up one.”
     
    That wasn’t what I was thinking then. I was thinking that I should’ve known this wasn’t a good idea.
     
    “All right.” Cole straightened in the chair and took a deep breath. He picked up his fork and poked it at the slice of meatloaf in front of him. “Let’s do this thing.”
     
    * * *
     
    After that, things went okay.
     
    Once Cole and my brother got to talking about that NASCAR stuff, they got along fine. Which left me out, but I didn’t mind. I hadn’t known before, but I might’ve been able to guess that Cole would’ve been into anything that involved machines going real fast and occasionally going up in a big flaming crash. Just the sort of thing that would appeal to somebody like him.
     
    After Donnie had gone to bed – the excitement of having somebody new to talk to had worn him out – and with the dishes stacked in the sink, I relented and let Cole light up.
     
    “I’ve got some notes we should go over. From my looking at the numbers.” I pushed my chair back from the table. “I’ll go get them.”
     
    “No. Don’t.” His voice went low. “We can do that tomorrow. I just wanted . . . to say I’m sorry.”
     
    “What? For coming over? You did fine.” I smiled at him. “Think of it as a growth experience.”
     
    “I was big enough already.”
     
    “Don’t worry about it. We won’t do it again. I kinda think my brother needs to make friends his own age.”
     
    “That’s not what I was talking about,” said Cole. “I’m sorry I roped you into all this.”
     
    “All what?”
     
    “You know. Killing McIntyre.”
     
    “Excuse me.” I stared at him in amazement. “That’s what I want to do – remember? I came to see you.”
     
    “Yeah, and I should’ve thrown you out on your ass.”
     
    “I’ve been thrown out on my ass already, and I didn’t enjoy it. If I had enjoyed it, I wouldn’t have come and talked to you about killing McIntyre.” I leaned back, with an arm slung over the top of my chair. “You know, at this stage in our relationship, I wouldn’t have thought I still had to explain all this to you.”
     
    Guys who kill people are just like other guys. You