It’s over. I did it.
Her or me,I kept telling myself.One of us gets twenty-one million, one of us gets nothing.
Lauren brought this on herself. She did this. She got into the ring with me. She tried to steal my money.
I have no connection to Lauren Betancourt. I have no connection to Vicky or Simon Dobias. I’m just some guy in the city who—
My head whips to the left at the sound of the door from the garage. Someone’s coming in. Gavin? Why would—
“Hello?” I call out, my heart pounding so hard I can hardly speak.
I recognize the sound of her footfalls as she bounds up the stairs. “It’s just me,” Vicky calls out.
I meet her at the top of the stairs. “What are you doing here? You can’t be here.”
“I had to see you.” She is dressed in a coat, a wool stocking cap with her hair tucked under, and gloves. She puts her gloved hands on my cheeks. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay. I was going crazy with worry—”
“I’m okay, I’m okay. You shouldn’t be here. I cleaned everything up so there’s no—”
“I’ll keep my gloves on,” she says. “And coat and hat. Don’t worry.”
I don’t put up a fight. I’m right—she shouldn’t be here—but I can’t deny that I’m glad to see her, to have some company right now, some comforting voice.
“So—tell me what happened?”
“What happened is—” I blow out air. “What happened is it’s over. It’s done.”
“It is?” The look on her face, like a combination of relief and alarm.
“Yeah, but listen—it didn’t go as planned. The gun jammed. I got it done, anyway. It’s done, and I don’t see how I left any trace of myself behind.”
“But... she’s dead,” Vicky whispers.
“Yes.”
“For sure?”
“For absolute sure.” I grab her arm, pull her toward the kitchen. “You should leave. I want you to stay but you can’t. Go back through the alley.”
“We need to talk,” she says. “About Simon.”
“I thought you could handle Simon,” I say. “What— Okay, what about Simon?”
“I think... I think he suspects something.”
“Wait, what? Suspects what?”
“I think... he suspects I’m seeing someone.”
“Why?”
“He was...” She brushes past me, waving her arms. “He was asking me questions today.”
“What are you doing?”
“I’m pouring myself a drink,” she says. “With my gloves on, don’t worry. Sit down and relax. You’re making me more nervous than I already am. Actually...”
“Actually what?”