mess you made,” Vick said.
“Mess I made? You hit Broussard in the head with a fucking clock,” Grady said.
“Shut up. I’m trying to think,” Vick said.
“It’s still no harm, no foul, Vick,” Grady said.
“Repeat what you said about the million dollars, Bledsoe.”
“I don’t remember saying anything about that,” Saber said.
“He doesn’t remember,” Vick said. “I love these guys. They make up their own reality every five minutes. ‘I don’t remember.’ ‘I didn’t do it.’ ‘You’re a good guy, Vick.’ ‘Don’t hurt me, Vick.’ ‘Lend me some money, Vick.’ ”
“You fall down the stairs on your head?” Grady asked.
“Get some tape,” Vick said.
“For what?” Grady said.
“I got to draw you a diagram?” Vick said.
“Don’t do this, Grady,” Valerie said. “You know what my father will do if you hurt us.”
“You’ll have a hard time telling him anything if I put you under thirty yards of concrete,” Vick said. “Keep running your mouth and that might just happen. Stick out your hand, Bledsoe.”
“Screw you,” Saber said.
“Bad boy,” Vick said. With no expression, without blinking, he pointed the pistol and shot Saber through the foot. The spent shell bounced off a lamp table.
Saber fell against the wall and slid to the floor, blood welling out of his shoe, his mouth wide with pain.
“You’re the lowest of the low, Vick,” I said. “If we get out of this, I’m going to get you. If I don’t, my father will.”
“See how you feel an hour from now,” Vick said.
Valerie knelt beside Saber and held his head to her breast. She looked up at Grady. “Stop this.”
“You shouldn’t have come here, Val,” Grady replied. “You shouldn’t have let Broussard bust us up. You shouldn’t have left me at the drive-in that night in Galveston.”
“You’re breaking my heart here,” Vick said. He unlocked the gate on the elevator. “Outside, Broussard. The festivities are just beginning.”
A bolt of lightning exploded in a tree in the side yard, dropping a huge limb into the swimming pool, taking down the power line with it. The house went dark. There was my chance, I told myself. Vick flicked the wheel on his cigarette lighter and pressed the barrel of his pistol against Valerie’s head. “Keep having those kinds of thoughts and her brains will be in Bledsoe’s lap. You lose again, asshole.”
GRADY CAME BACK from the kitchen with two flashlights and a roll of tape. Saber was sitting against the wall, one knee pulled up to his chest, his wounded foot sticking straight out in front of him, blood pooling around the shoe. Vick handcuffed Valerie’s wrist to Saber’s. He reached into his pocket and took out a second small automatic and gave it to Grady. “The safety is above the trigger guard.”
“I don’t want it,” Grady said.
“Yeah, you do,” Vick said. “You were born for the life. You were always one of us.”
“What about him?” Grady asked, glancing at me.
“This baby is mine,” Vick said. “We’re going out to a junkyard run by a friend of mine.”
“I don’t get it. What’s the plan?” Grady said.
“I got to keep my word on something. About Broussard. He knows what I mean.”
“You’re going to drag him? That’s sick, man,” Grady said.
“Look at what he did to my face,” Vick said. “Think he doesn’t have it coming? I got pus running out of this bandage every day.”
“What about Val?” Grady asked.
Vick shone a light on her face. Her eyes watered in the glare. He grinned at Grady.
“Knock that off,” Grady said.
“You develop qualms?”
“Maybe I have.”
“You got an easy choice, Grady,” Vick said. “You can stay a rich man or go to work sacking groceries.”
“I’ll talk to her. She’s practical.”
“By now she’s figured out you killed your father. How practical is she going to be about that?”
“You better put a cork in it, Vick,” Grady said.
Yes, yes, yes, provoke him some more, Vick. But I underestimated him. Vick was a survivor who had spent a lifetime dealing with a disfigured face and the insults it drew.
“I’m just kidding,” he said. “Your old man brought it on himself. You’re a stand-up guy, Grady. You proved that when you joined the Corps. I think secretly your old man was afraid you’d show him up.”
“Grady, please stop and try to think about what you’re doing,” Valerie said. “You’ve made mistakes. But this isn’t you.”
“Tell her,” Vick said.
“Tell me what?” she asked.
“About the Mexican girl,” Vick replied.
“Lay off that,” Grady said.
“Tell her.”
“He’s talking about Wanda Estevan,” Grady said. “It was an accident. We set fire to Loren Nichols’s car. She