We were almost back in Brooklyn now, and her anxious wailing had increased instead of tapered off. “Fix, please,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had no idea he would do that, I swear. Just…please!” Finally, the deadly calm that had fallen over him after he pulled that trigger shattered. Slamming his fist into the steering wheel of our stolen sedan, he bared his teeth at the rear-view mirror, a brilliant silver storm flashing in his eyes. “Fuck, Monica! Really? You really think I’m going to fucking hurt you?” “I—I don’t…” she whimpered. “You’re angry. I don’t know.” “Then you don’t
...more
