least.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that if you want to be my friend, start acting like one. Or I’ll start acting like we’re not.” With that, Mitch turned and walked away, a quick, nervous step.
Alex watched him go. Part of him wanted to run after the guy, apologize, remind him that they were buddies, that he was sorry if he’d been a dick. Another part wanted to tell Mitch about the noises Jenn made just before she came, the way she mashed her eyes shut and made soft, quick moans that barely left her throat. See how the guy liked that.
Get through this first. Then we’ll see what’s left to say.
Alex shouldered his bag, turned, and walked up the steps to his empty apartment.
THE CONDO WAS COLD, the AC cranked all the way. Ian sat on the couch in just a pair of briefs, a bag of frozen peas between his legs. The flat-screen was on HBO, some monster movie, a screaming heroine running down a long dark hallway. With the volume muted, it seemed almost existentially horrifying, the way her lips opened soundlessly as she stumbled and fell before getting up to stagger forward again.
Ian leaned forward, picked up the mirror, held it to his nose, sucked in a long rail of white, and then another in the same nostril. His left had started bleeding earlier, and he had a Kleenex twisted into it, the end hanging out like a tail. He wiped the bitter coke residue on gums gone numb, then set the mirror on the coffee table. Beside it, three pistols lay in a neat line, the metal gleaming dull.
Outside the windows, the city burned.
CHAPTER 10
“ J ESUS. You look amazing.”
Jenn smiled, gave a little curtsy, one thin arm holding the edge of her skirt. “Like a Bond girl?”
“Like all of them,” Mitch said. “Rolled into one.” The words came unplanned, and he had a sudden fear that they were the wrong ones. But her smile widened.
“Let’s get to it,” Alex said from behind her. “I have to be at work soon.”
Mitch followed them into the living room. Ian’s condo was spotless as ever, something out of a magazine, except for the table in the center of the room, where masks and gloves were piled alongside a brown paper bag.
“Mitch,” Ian said. He wore baggy black jeans, a bowling shirt, and brown work boots. “Thanks for suggesting the outfits. I look like an idiot.”
“You do not,” Jenn said. “You should wear real-people clothes more often.”
“Suits are real-people clothes.” Ian gestured at the table. “Yours are there. You can change in the bedroom.”
“Hold on,” Alex said. “Let’s see the rest of it.”
Ian walked to the table, picked up the bag, and held it out. For a moment, everyone stood still. Then Jenn stepped forward, reached in, and pulled out a chrome revolver. She looked hypnotized, the gun in her palm, fingers not quite wrapping around the grip.
“It’s heavy,” she said.
Mitch stared at her. The dress she wore was designed at the intersection of elegance and sensuality, something he imagined a two-thousand-dollar-a-night call girl might wear, strappy to show off bare shoulders and cut to mid-thigh. With the gun in her hand and the intense look on her face, she was the single sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“It’s loaded,” Ian said. “So be careful.”
“Where did you get them?”
“A guy I know.” Ian looked away.
“What kind of guy?”
“Does it matter?”
“OK,” Alex said. “Jenn bought gloves and masks for all three of you. We went over everything the other night. No need to do it again, right?”
“Actually, I was thinking,” Ian said. “The timing. Why don’t we just go into the office and be waiting when Johnny comes in?”
“No,” Mitch and Alex said in unison. They looked at each other, a little smile playing on Alex’s lips. He nodded a go-ahead gesture.
“No. Johnny might go into the office alone. You and I have to come in when he and Alex are both there. That’s the whole point. Plus, if we’re
“What does that even mean?”
“It means that if you want to be my friend, start acting like one. Or I’ll start acting like we’re not.” With that, Mitch turned and walked away, a quick, nervous step.
Alex watched him go. Part of him wanted to run after the guy, apologize, remind him that they were buddies, that he was sorry if he’d been a dick. Another part wanted to tell Mitch about the noises Jenn made just before she came, the way she mashed her eyes shut and made soft, quick moans that barely left her throat. See how the guy liked that.
Get through this first. Then we’ll see what’s left to say.
Alex shouldered his bag, turned, and walked up the steps to his empty apartment.
THE CONDO WAS COLD, the AC cranked all the way. Ian sat on the couch in just a pair of briefs, a bag of frozen peas between his legs. The flat-screen was on HBO, some monster movie, a screaming heroine running down a long dark hallway. With the volume muted, it seemed almost existentially horrifying, the way her lips opened soundlessly as she stumbled and fell before getting up to stagger forward again.
Ian leaned forward, picked up the mirror, held it to his nose, sucked in a long rail of white, and then another in the same nostril. His left had started bleeding earlier, and he had a Kleenex twisted into it, the end hanging out like a tail. He wiped the bitter coke residue on gums gone numb, then set the mirror on the coffee table. Beside it, three pistols lay in a neat line, the metal gleaming dull.
Outside the windows, the city burned.
CHAPTER 10
“ J ESUS. You look amazing.”
Jenn smiled, gave a little curtsy, one thin arm holding the edge of her skirt. “Like a Bond girl?”
“Like all of them,” Mitch said. “Rolled into one.” The words came unplanned, and he had a sudden fear that they were the wrong ones. But her smile widened.
“Let’s get to it,” Alex said from behind her. “I have to be at work soon.”
Mitch followed them into the living room. Ian’s condo was spotless as ever, something out of a magazine, except for the table in the center of the room, where masks and gloves were piled alongside a brown paper bag.
“Mitch,” Ian said. He wore baggy black jeans, a bowling shirt, and brown work boots. “Thanks for suggesting the outfits. I look like an idiot.”
“You do not,” Jenn said. “You should wear real-people clothes more often.”
“Suits are real-people clothes.” Ian gestured at the table. “Yours are there. You can change in the bedroom.”
“Hold on,” Alex said. “Let’s see the rest of it.”
Ian walked to the table, picked up the bag, and held it out. For a moment, everyone stood still. Then Jenn stepped forward, reached in, and pulled out a chrome revolver. She looked hypnotized, the gun in her palm, fingers not quite wrapping around the grip.
“It’s heavy,” she said.
Mitch stared at her. The dress she wore was designed at the intersection of elegance and sensuality, something he imagined a two-thousand-dollar-a-night call girl might wear, strappy to show off bare shoulders and cut to mid-thigh. With the gun in her hand and the intense look on her face, she was the single sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“It’s loaded,” Ian said. “So be careful.”
“Where did you get them?”
“A guy I know.” Ian looked away.
“What kind of guy?”
“Does it matter?”
“OK,” Alex said. “Jenn bought gloves and masks for all three of you. We went over everything the other night. No need to do it again, right?”
“Actually, I was thinking,” Ian said. “The timing. Why don’t we just go into the office and be waiting when Johnny comes in?”
“No,” Mitch and Alex said in unison. They looked at each other, a little smile playing on Alex’s lips. He nodded a go-ahead gesture.
“No. Johnny might go into the office alone. You and I have to come in when he and Alex are both there. That’s the whole point. Plus, if we’re
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