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That was the first thing my dad taught me in car repair—be organized and be meticulous. “These are complicated machines. You’ve got to be like a machine yourself. There’s no room for mistakes.”
(why do boys always get the best lashes?)
“I thought she’d be down on Cermak,” Bella says, fixing me with her cool blue eyes. “Sucking dick for ten bucks a pop, just like her mom.”
“At least she gets ten dollars,” a low voice says. “You usually do it for free, Bella.”
There’s being a criminal, and there’s being a murderer . . . you cross that line and there’s no going back. It changes you.
But here’s the irony—when you get into a business for nefarious reasons, you sometimes start making a legitimate profit. That’s what happened to the mafia dons who moved to Las Vegas—they opened casinos to launder their illegal money, and all of a sudden, the casinos were raking in more cash than the illegal rackets. Whoops—you’re a legitimate businessman.
“This isn’t a peep show,” she snaps. “Exotica is twelve blocks that way.” “Exotica burned down,” I tell her. Actually, I burned it down myself, when I was in a tiff with the owner. It was my first foray into arson.
I may be a criminal, but I’m not cheap.
You would never fuck with a woman’s torque wrenches and then force her to listen to Canada’s worst export.
“But you didn’t have to key my car, baby! It’s a classic!” “Nana’s a classic, Mason! NANA!”
Sometimes the rich boys are the worst thugs of all. They want to prove they’re hard-asses.
I may not rage out loud like Nero, but I have bitterness inside of me, too.
The truth is that Camille isn’t my type at all. But I sort of felt like we might be becoming friends—a little bit. I kind of liked her. And I don’t like anybody. I barely like my own family. In fact, right now, I’m only 50/50 on Aida.
I go through the rotation of blondes, brunettes, and redheads. But in the end, they’re all the same, and I feel hollow afterward. Spent but not really satisfied.
I wake up early so I can get as much work done as possible before I have to head over to my second job of being a degenerate drug dealer.
“You can sell ‘em anywhere from fifteen to twenty-five a pop,” Levi says. “You owe me ten each.” I nod. “Bring me the money in a week.”
Officer Logan Schultz, graduated from the academy in 2011, then bounced around the Bureau of Patrol for a while. Two years ago, he transferred to the Organized Crime Division.
In fact, nobody is as paranoid as a criminal.
“Don’t break the law while you’re breaking the law.” What he means by that is you should only commit one crime at a time. Otherwise you draw attention to yourself. After all, Al Capone never would have gotten caught for bootlegging if the feds couldn’t prosecute him for tax evasion.
“I don’t ever want you to be jealous,” I tell her. “There’s nobody else, Camille. Nobody who ever made me feel like this.”
I want Camille like I’ve never wanted anything in my life. I want her to love me. She’s the only one who knows me, so she’s the only one who can. And I want to love her.
“Camille,” he says, touching my cheek with his hand. “I’ve always felt things . . . intensely. Or I thought I did. But every emotion I ever had, my whole life through, is nothing compared to what I feel when I look at you. I don’t care about the car, or the money we just took, or anything else in this world. Next to you, all those other things just fade away.”
“I won’t ever leave you,” Nero says. “Never, Camille. You’ll never have to wonder where I went. I’ll be right by your side.”