The Odds - Jeff Strand Page 0,32
trust that she wouldn’t do something dangerous.
After she bandaged him up, he put on boxer briefs and a t-shirt (he hoped Rick had been suffering through a nice unobstructed view of his dick) and got into bed. Jenny kissed him on the forehead.
“Do you promise everything will be fine?”
Don’t look away. Don’t look away. Don’t look away. Don’t blink.
“I promise,” he said.
“All right. I’ll come to bed soon.”
Jenny left the bedroom. Ethan fell asleep seconds later.
He woke up to the sound of his phone ringing.
What time was it? The clock on the nightstand said 12:00. No way.
He picked up the phone and, yes, it was Rick calling. The same night? Was he serious?
It might have been okay for him to let this call go to voice mail and pick up on the second call, when he’d left the bedroom and could speak more privately, but after tonight’s double murder he was much more frightened of defying Rick.
“Hello?” he asked.
“Hi, Ethan. Did I wake you up?”
Ethan slid his legs over the side of the bed. “I hope you’re joking. I just got back from work.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. Did you think you’d get some time for R&R before your next challenge? Did I say anything to imply that?”
“Yes, actually. You told me to get a good night’s sleep.”
“You’re right. I did. I hope you got part of a good night’s sleep. Tell your wife you have to go back to work and get in your car. I’ll call you back in five minutes.”
Rick hung up. Ethan literally wanted to just start crying. This was unreal.
Jenny, of course, was awake.
“I have to go,” he said.
She sat up, scooted over, and took his hand. “We’ll get through this,” she told him. “Like you said, the weird work hours will go away after we make up the shortfall.”
“Yeah. Try to go back to sleep.”
Ethan quickly got dressed and went out to the car. He didn’t even want to look in the rearview mirror, because he probably looked like somebody you’d cross the street to avoid. Don’t hurt me, sir. Here’s some money.
Rick called.
“Are you outside of your house?” Rick asked.
“You don’t know?”
“I do know. I was seeing if you’d be honest.”
“Yeah, I’m in my car.”
“Are you ready for your next challenge?”
“No.”
“Are you saying that you’re not ready, or that you’re declining it?”
“I’ll hear what you have to say, but why should I bother accepting? I accepted the last challenge because I didn’t want a woman to get stabbed to death. I saved her and she died anyway. So it was all a great big waste.”
“You earned a point,” said Rick.
“So I earned a point. So what? I didn’t drive out there to earn a point in your game, I drove out there to stop a woman from being murdered by some whack-nut with a knife. Now I know that there’s no purpose to playing. I might as well not even bother.”
“That’s not a winning attitude.”
“What’s the challenge?”
“This time you have a 25% chance of succeeding.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
“It would be boring if the game got easier.”
“And I’m playing for a point?” Ethan asked.
“No. You’re playing for a briefcase filled with ten pounds of cocaine.”
“I don’t want ten pounds of cocaine.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” said Rick. “But the drug dealers who believe you have their shipment would very much like it back.”
Ethan didn’t even know what to say to this. He just sat in his car, staring through the front windshield, unable to believe that this was his life now.
“Ethan...?”
“I thought coke was measured in kilos.”
“So you’ll win about four and a half kilos of coke that was supposed to be delivered to some extremely vengeful criminals. You could return it to them, no questions asked.”
“You know what? No.”
“No?”
“I’m calling bullshit. I don’t buy it. Maybe you can set up some game where one player tries to kill an old lady and the other player tries to save her, but you expect me to believe that you stole a briefcase of cocaine from drug dealers and have framed me for it?”
“Will frame you for it.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“That’s interesting. I didn’t expect this.”
“So yes, I’m declining. I’m going back to bed.”
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t completely shocked,” said Rick. “I hope you have a restful night of sleep, and I hope this works out for you.”
“G’night.” Ethan hung up.
It had to be bullshit.
Right?
Ethan was suddenly having very serious doubts. Why wouldn’t these psychopaths add vengeful gangsters to the mix? It was the