The Blade Itself

Where was this going? Was he just flexing to show how hard he’d become? Hardly necessary – Evan looked like if you drove a truck into him, you’d just end up with a busted rig. There was a larger point, Da

“So Lupé’s guys are serious gangbangers. By the way, you know what the bangers call a youth fall? Gladiator school. Nice, huh? Anyway, they get hold of our lovebirds, and right away they’ve got the gags in. Lupé’s last into the cell. He makes sure that Chico is watching, and then he paroles Boyfriend. Leaves the shank sticking out of the man’s throat.”

Da

Evan leaned forward, corded forearms bunching. He smelled of beer and cigarettes. “Then Lupé touches Chico’s face real soft. Smiles at him, turns, and walks out.

“Chico senses what’s coming, starts struggling. You can tell he wants to kill these guys, but he’s just a prison queer. What he wants isn’t important. After all, these three are gladiators. One gets him in a chokehold, and another lifts his foot up on the bunk, stretches the leg out straight. The bangers are laughing, two of them arguing who gets to do it, like Chico isn’t even there. He’s turning white and shit, but they don’t pay him any attention. Finally the one on the bed holds Chico’s leg taut, the joint locked. The third winds up, then stomps down, just bam, down, like snapping firewood, right on the knee. Chico howls, I mean, you can hear it through the gag. And no fucking wonder, because bone is sticking out the back of his prison blues. The bangers hoot, and slap each other on the back while Chico shrieks. Whole thing took maybe a minute. Guards find the pruno, the blade, Boyfriend’s body, they choose to write it off as a lover’s quarrel between the cellmates. Easier than actually looking into it. That’s the mentality on the inside.”

Da

“After that,” Evan spoke softly now, “Chico didn’t walk so good. But I’ll tell you what.” He paused, and then the mask of his face cracked into a smile, thin-lipped and cruel. “He never again forgot what he was. Or who he belonged to.”

Da

Evan smiled broadly at that, but with none of the comradely warmth Da

Here it comes.

“Fold it sideways and shove it up your ass.”

Da

“You owe me, Da

11

The cigarette tasted sweet as a stolen kiss.

A fu

After he’d jimmied the lock on Da

And the game had gotten better once Da

He took another drag, smoking the cigarette to the filter, feeling the melting resistance as the heat fused it. His favorite part, the cigarette yielding. He knocked off the cherry and flicked the butt into the grass. One of the Lincoln Park mothers, about his age, figure still tight and her hair expensive, glared at him. He winked, then laughed as she gathered her boy off the swing set and hustled him away.

Look out for the bad man, kid. Your mommy, she’s still a nice piece of ass, and she’s got instincts strong enough to tell her to move away. Fu

Evan pulled the smokes from his shirt pocket and tapped out another one. The sun fell warm on his back and the top of his head, though the wind was cool. A perfect afternoon.

Da

But then, he had so much. So very much to lose.

12

“Jesus.” Patrick turned, one hand still on the railing, to look Da

Karen had whipped up pasta for di

“I can’t believe he asked you to do that.”

“It wasn’t so much asking,” Da

“Motherfu-”

“Keep your voice down.”

Patrick turned back to the sprawling night sky. After di

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” Da

Your boss, Evan had said. He’s got a kid, yeah?

Right then Da

To hear Evan talk, it was a simple thing, no big deal. Together they snatch Tommy, put him somewhere safe. Dick-twist Richard into paying as much as he could afford – not too much, Evan said, no point making it impossible – in trade for his son’s life. Split the score and consider themselves finished, all accounts balanced.

“Jesus.” Patrick’s face glowed as he dragged on his cigarette, eyes wide and dodgy. “What did you tell him?”

“What do you think? Hell no. You know what his response was? ‘Think about it.’ He’s sitting in my kitchen, boots on the table, telling me to think about it. He rocks back a little, so his shirt pulls up? And he’s got a gun tucked in his belt.”

“He pulled a piece on you?”

“Just let me see it, like it was an accident. Then he asked when Karen would be home.”