I extended my baton. “I don’t want him to. Start walking.”
Rafe turned and took off. I watched him until he reached the end of the block before I turned to the house.
Maybe he’d listen and go all the way to Trader Joe’s. Maye he wouldn’t. But it didn’t matter either way. I’d be done before he had a chance to do anything about it.
I walked toward the old stash house, looking for some violence.
Chapter 22
Capri
I was in bed when my phone buzzed a few times. I kept it under my pillow at night, and it woke me up.
Mal: Come meet me.
Mal: I’m nearby. Need a hand.
Mal: Bring clean bandages. If you’ve got any.
Mal: Anthony’s finished.
My heart leapt into my throat. Anthony’s finished. And he needed bandages. Which meant one more name was crossed off our list.
I slipped into the bathroom, found my first aid kit, and pulled on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt. I snuck down the back and out the side staff entrance, pausing to listen to the night before creeping down the lawn. I hurried to the bushes, paused, made sure nobody saw or set off any alarms, then jumped over the fence.
Cap: Where are you?
Mal: In my truck two blocks away. Head left out the front and keep going. You’ll see me.
I hurried down the sidewalk. I felt like the whole neighborhood was watching, but sure enough I spotted him parked up ahead. His truck looked like it’d been shot full of bullets, but I didn’t know if they were fresh or not.
I climbed into the passenger seat and stared at him.
Mal smiled back. In the weak half-light from the moon, he seemed ghostly and terrifying. My body trembled being so close to him in his truck like this. “Mal,” I said.
“Cap.” He touched my leg. “Glad you could come. I’m sorry I showed up like this. I shouldn’t have.”
“Are you okay?”
He shrugged. “Cuts and bruises. Nothing major.”
“And your stab wound? My stitches holding up?”
“Your stitches are perfect.” He watched me carefully. There was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t make myself speak. “Going back to the old stash house was hard. Brought up some bad memories. You remember the night you came there? You had on this black top and real short shorts that showed off your legs. I avoided you all night because all I could think about was ripping your clothes to shreds and shoving you up against a wall.”
I chewed on my lip. “You were thinking like that all the way back then?”
His eyes were dark and hooded. “I’ve been thinking about you like that since the day we met.”
“Mal,” I whispered. I dropped the first aid kit on the floorboard of the truck.
He stared over the steering wheel and out the front window. “Did Carmine ever tell you how I ended up in jail?”
I shook my head. “Just said you took the fall for him. That’s all.”
“We were at the house, like always.” He watched something far in the distance, back through the mists of the past. “End of the night. Counting out. I let Rafe leave early. You remember Rafe? I saw him tonight.”
“How’s he doing?” I was afraid of the answer.
“He’s alive.” He smiled, a tight and angry thing. “He left early that night. Carmine and I were alone when we saw the lights. No sirens. Fuckers came in silent. If they had sirens, we would’ve had some notice. There might’ve been enough time to get the stuff hidden away. I still don’t know who called them and I might never find out. Doesn’t really matter.”
He took a deep breath and leaned his head back.
“We had a choice. Cash and big bundles of heroin were spread out on the table. We had enough time to get rid of one or the other. So I told Carmine to put the money in a bag and get out. Drugs were bad, but losing all that money would be worse. He argued with me. I did it anyway. Put the money in a big trash bag and shoved it in his arms. Shoved him out the back door. Told him to fuck off. Told him to run. I’d take the fall. He argued, tried not to go. But he saw it was useless. If we both ran, the cops would’ve followed. We might’ve escaped, but I didn’t think we would’ve. Someone sent those cops. They came prepared.
“I turned back into the house and I started screaming my goddamn head off. Screamed and screamed and shouted. Woke up all the neighbors, made such a racket. Carmine ran and I distracted the police, made every single one of them look at me. Scared them to death. I thought they might kill me, but I didn’t stop making a racket. They broke down the door and came in, guns out and ready, and found me screaming away in the kitchen next to a bunch of drugs. They cuffed me, threw me in a car, and I didn’t find out until later that Carmine got away. I thought I saved him. I felt good about it.”