Chapter 66

I managed a flicker of a smile and said, “Let’s bring those mother fuckers down.”

And pray they don’t take us down with them.

* * * *

I never expected to find myself in their basement again, but the basement is where we wound up, just the same.

“Oh,” I said, because it seemed the word of the day. The massive barrel was gone; the memories were still vivid. My entire body cringed. “Why are we here, Arthur? This some kind of masochistic bent of yours? I didn’t manage to kill you, but I’m gonna rub it in anyway?”

“I thought we moved past that?” said the almost-killer himself.

I shrugged. “Sorry. PTS disorder. Happens when you almost die.”

Chad rolled his eyes. “Why are we down here, hon?” he asked his husband, thereby wisely changing the subject.

To which Arthur replied, “When Tom and I were together, we, well our business, I mean we—”

“Were crooks,” I interjected.