sack of shit you are."
It took him a second to process what I said. "What?"
"What I said, dipshit, was that if I wanted to insult you I'd do it to your face and you'd stand there with your knife in your hand and you wouldn't do a goddamn thing about it."
He moved toward me. "You think so?"
"Yeah, motherfucker, I do."
He stopped just in front of me. He stunk—stunk of stupidity and meanness.
I leaned into his stink until I was a couple of inches from his face again and his knife was a couple of inches from my stomach. "Because you know, Evan. You might be dumber than dog shit but you know I'm not twenty years old and ignorant and afraid. I don't love you or need money from you and I'm not even a little afraid of you. And you know that if you try some bullshit with me, you'll have a real fight on your hands."
He glared at me for a moment before his eyes brightened and he let out a boozy laugh. "Whoa, you're one crazy fucking bitch, ain't you?" He laughed some more and dabbed at the corner of his eye with a scarred knuckle. "I didn't see it right off, but you're one of them crazy bitches."
I gave him a smile. "Just had my fill of the ones like you, that's all. Don't take it personally. Just allergic to assholes."
I turned around, unlocked the door and left him standing there.
Driving away, my entire body spasmed with adrenaline.
My hands shook as I tried to grip the wheel.
The car was too quiet.
I yelled, "That's right, motherfucker!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next morning, a man came to see me.
I'd had breakfast with the family—sitting there staring at a piece of toast while my brother said grace and thanked God, again, for having me at the table. Then Bethany left to take Felicia to a friend's house, and Nate and I walked down to the shop.
Nate had just unlocked the front office when a Lexis pulled into the drive. A short man wearing a blue suit and a red tie got out.
Nate assumed he was a customer. "Morning."
The man walked toward me. He had dark eyes that didn't blink. "Ellie Bennett."
"Yeah."
"There's a man looking for you."
"That's a relief to hear."
Behind me Nate said, "Who wants to see her?"
Without looking at him, the man with the dark eyes said, "Fuck off, buddy."
Unsteady on his crutch, my brother hobbled toward him. "What?"
I got between them. "Whoa, Nate. Take it easy." I turned back to the man with the dark eyes. "That was rude. You're out of line talking to my brother like that." I turned back to Nate. "It's okay, Nate. Go on, inside. I need to talk to this guy." He didn't want to go in, but I shook him by the arm. "It's fine. Really. I'll explain later. Give me a minute."
Nate glared at me, then turned and walked into the office.
The man with the dark eyes grinned and looked at his watch. "How about you come see us in an hour?"
"Who are you?"
"One hour. Downtown. Morgan building."
"Do I have a choice?"
He smiled again, tickled at the question. "Of course, you do. Free country. But you'll want to see this guy who wants to meet you. Got an opportunity for you."
"What's he want to see me about?"
"I guess you'll find out. The old Morgan building downtown. Ten o'clock."
"Who do I ask for?"
He opened his car door. "Don't ask for anybody. Just show up."
* * *
I dressed up like I was going for a job interview as a funeral director. Black skirt and jacket over a white blouse. Black flats, no necklace, some small black hoops. A little make-up to cover the rough spots, and I walked down to the shop and found Nate working.
"I need to borrow the car again," I said.
Crouched low on a work stool beside an old couch, he nodded as he yanked staples out of the frame with a pair of needle-nose pliers.
I asked, "Was that nod a 'Yes, you can borrow the car'?"
He pulled out a staple and dropped it in a bucket by his feet. "Sure."
"You okay, Nate?"
"Yeah."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah."
I stared at the top of his head. He twisted out another staple and dropped it in the bucket.
I said, "I'm
It took him a second to process what I said. "What?"
"What I said, dipshit, was that if I wanted to insult you I'd do it to your face and you'd stand there with your knife in your hand and you wouldn't do a goddamn thing about it."
He moved toward me. "You think so?"
"Yeah, motherfucker, I do."
He stopped just in front of me. He stunk—stunk of stupidity and meanness.
I leaned into his stink until I was a couple of inches from his face again and his knife was a couple of inches from my stomach. "Because you know, Evan. You might be dumber than dog shit but you know I'm not twenty years old and ignorant and afraid. I don't love you or need money from you and I'm not even a little afraid of you. And you know that if you try some bullshit with me, you'll have a real fight on your hands."
He glared at me for a moment before his eyes brightened and he let out a boozy laugh. "Whoa, you're one crazy fucking bitch, ain't you?" He laughed some more and dabbed at the corner of his eye with a scarred knuckle. "I didn't see it right off, but you're one of them crazy bitches."
I gave him a smile. "Just had my fill of the ones like you, that's all. Don't take it personally. Just allergic to assholes."
I turned around, unlocked the door and left him standing there.
Driving away, my entire body spasmed with adrenaline.
My hands shook as I tried to grip the wheel.
The car was too quiet.
I yelled, "That's right, motherfucker!"
CHAPTER SEVEN
The next morning, a man came to see me.
I'd had breakfast with the family—sitting there staring at a piece of toast while my brother said grace and thanked God, again, for having me at the table. Then Bethany left to take Felicia to a friend's house, and Nate and I walked down to the shop.
Nate had just unlocked the front office when a Lexis pulled into the drive. A short man wearing a blue suit and a red tie got out.
Nate assumed he was a customer. "Morning."
The man walked toward me. He had dark eyes that didn't blink. "Ellie Bennett."
"Yeah."
"There's a man looking for you."
"That's a relief to hear."
Behind me Nate said, "Who wants to see her?"
Without looking at him, the man with the dark eyes said, "Fuck off, buddy."
Unsteady on his crutch, my brother hobbled toward him. "What?"
I got between them. "Whoa, Nate. Take it easy." I turned back to the man with the dark eyes. "That was rude. You're out of line talking to my brother like that." I turned back to Nate. "It's okay, Nate. Go on, inside. I need to talk to this guy." He didn't want to go in, but I shook him by the arm. "It's fine. Really. I'll explain later. Give me a minute."
Nate glared at me, then turned and walked into the office.
The man with the dark eyes grinned and looked at his watch. "How about you come see us in an hour?"
"Who are you?"
"One hour. Downtown. Morgan building."
"Do I have a choice?"
He smiled again, tickled at the question. "Of course, you do. Free country. But you'll want to see this guy who wants to meet you. Got an opportunity for you."
"What's he want to see me about?"
"I guess you'll find out. The old Morgan building downtown. Ten o'clock."
"Who do I ask for?"
He opened his car door. "Don't ask for anybody. Just show up."
* * *
I dressed up like I was going for a job interview as a funeral director. Black skirt and jacket over a white blouse. Black flats, no necklace, some small black hoops. A little make-up to cover the rough spots, and I walked down to the shop and found Nate working.
"I need to borrow the car again," I said.
Crouched low on a work stool beside an old couch, he nodded as he yanked staples out of the frame with a pair of needle-nose pliers.
I asked, "Was that nod a 'Yes, you can borrow the car'?"
He pulled out a staple and dropped it in a bucket by his feet. "Sure."
"You okay, Nate?"
"Yeah."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah."
I stared at the top of his head. He twisted out another staple and dropped it in the bucket.
I said, "I'm
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