Alvin nods. “Yeah, yeah. I’m with you.”
Chance stares at him. “I don’t know that I believe you, shitstain. I kinda worry that you’re too stupid to know any better.”
“Swear,” Alvin pleads. “I’m done. Just…go. Just leave me alone. Please.”
“Well…” he sighs, as if coming to a decision. “Fine. But I feel like I gotta make my point crystal fuckin’ clear.”
“It’s clear, I fuckin’ swear, bro!”
Too late.
BANG!
Alvin’s left kneecap dissolves into red, and he screams. Chance shoves the gun away. “Think I’ve made my point, now.” He looks at me—I’m shaken by the gunshot. “Let’s go, mama.”
I hurry toward the front door, stomach writhing.
“I see you, I see anyone I think could’ve been sent by you, Alvin, I’ll be back. And no matter where you go, I’ll find you and I’ll hurt you. I won’t kill you, because that’d be too quick. I’ll just make you wish I would.” I hear Chance’s voice, but I need the fresh air, need out of the house. “Best plan for you is to leave Vegas. Go peddle your poison somewhere else. Better yet, get out of the drug game. You got skill with cars, I hear. That’s some free advice for you, buddy, take it or leave it.”
I feel him approach, a few moments later. “You shot him.” I look at him as he steps onto the porch.
He nods, seeming unconcerned. “Yep.”
“Why?”
“I could tell he wasn’t getting it. I could see it in his eyes. The second we left, he was gonna try some shit.”
“You don’t know that,” I say.
He looks down at me. “Mama—Ido.” His eyes are hard, cold. “I lived that life, remember?” He gestures at the house. “I dealt with dudes like him every goddamn day. Iknowhis kind. The lesson has to be harsh as hell or he won’t learn it.”
“His knee…it’ll never—”
He interrupts me. “You gonna lose sleep over a guy like him, Annika?”
I swallow. “No.”
“It was a shock, I know.” He cups my jaw, and it’s a marvel to me that his hand, so large, so powerful, capable of such violence and destruction, can be so gentle. “Now it’s done. Alvin is out of your life, for good.”
I look through the broken-open door to where Alvin is visible on the floor, writhing and moaning. Then back to Chance. “It’s really over?”
His thumb traces my lips. “It’s over, Annika. He’s not gonna bother you again.”
I sag against the porch support. “It’s over.”
“Your debt is gone. Cleared. Take a breath, mama, and feel the freedom.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“You did that for me.” My words are faint, shaky.
“Well, his ass was comin’ for me too,” he buries his fingers in my hair, his eyes impossibly gentle, “but yeah, Annika, I did that for you. You gotta be free. Now you are.”
I look back inside. I see the pipes, the bongs, the empty baggies. I held the poison in my hand, and I flushed it away. Because I wanted to. Because I could.
“I flushed it all away, Chance,” I whisper.
