Stacia Kane - Wrong Ways Down

Ben held his cheek. Fucking drama queen; Terrible barely hit him. “Got it. I got it. Swearing I do. Got me some knowledge too, got it, asked like you said. Gimme my spike, aye? Just gimme it, I give you—”

“Lashers an knowledge,” Terrible said, shaking his head. “Then you get yon spike back. Dig? Not before. Give it over.”

He tried not to look at Ben’s arm, the ugly tracks up and down the inside of it. Made him sad, iffen he were honest. The needle … the needle were the last place, the place where they admitted they weren’t even trying no more. And as always when he saw those, on anybody, he thought of Chess, hoped she never got there. Wondered what he’d do iffen she did.

Nothing, probably, causen it weren’t his fucking business, and he oughta stop thinking like it were. She weren’t his woman. Just his friend, and he had no right telling her what she oughta do or not do. Hell, even were she his woman he wouldn’t have that right. Specially when it weren’t like he were perfect, and specially when he knew—he’d come to know—that she had some serious shit to forget, and who the fuck was he to say she took the wrong way on forgetting it? Some might say he were just as bad, beating on people to forget whatany bothered him.

Some might say he were worse. They’d be right.

Ben’s head dipped. “Lemme get it, aye? Inna kitchen, see? Onna counter. See it?”

The money were on the counter, a fold of crisp new lashers layin there. Looked like all of Ben’s owes. Guess that new dame he said he had really were gone on him, iffen he ain’t been lying on where it came from.

Were Ben’s apartment too quiet? Like somebody waiting for him to turn he back? Or were he just jumpy, or maybe just itchy causen of the thoughts on Chess and needles, causen how fucking depressing Ben’s place were?

He jerked his head, took a step back so he were angled to keep a better eye on the broken door and the entrance to the hallway. Just in case. “Go get it, then.”

Ben did, brought it back. Terrible relaxed a little. He flipped through the bills with he thumb, making sure it weren’t bills wrapped around paper or aught like that; when it weren’t he nodded and put the fold in his pocket. “What knowledge, then?”

Ben’s reddish eyes kept jumping from Terrible’s face to the needle, from the needle to Terrible’s face. He licked his lips. “I tell you, you gimme back my spike?”

“Just said so, aye?”

“An maybe I gets me a credit? You tell Bump I’m all paid up on, an I gave you some knowledge helped, aye?”

“Getting fuckin bored here.”

Needle, face, needle, face. Terrible ain’t could figure on how Ben weren’t dizzy yet. “Aye, right. Right. Know a dude knows a dude, plays the duff up Northside. Dig?”

Terrible nodded. Somebody passing fake jewelry, maybe running cons with it. Northside were the place for that kinda shit, aye, where them had money. Nobody were cheap like rich people.

“Dude livin heself inna squat here, roundabout Forty-eighth an Grant.” Ben’s gaze skittered to the needle again; he licked his chapped lips again. “Say he gots a partner there got kicked some lashers for to be a lookout for a robbery. On the other night, dig? Thinking you got knowing what I’m meaning.”

Aye, he knew. Somebody got paid to be a lookout while somebody attacked Sue. Meant it weren’t an accident, somebody pulling it just on the moment. Meant somebody planned it, got ready.

Made it a fuck of a lot more likely whoever done it also killed Slick.

But iffen they’d killed Slick, why they ain’t needed a lookout for that? Or maybe them just figured be easy finding somebody willing to be a lookout for robbery but not so easy finding somebody willing to help with murder. Especially not murdering one of Bump’s men.

“Terrible?” Ben rubbed his hands together. He whole body were jerky, actually, like he wanted to get up and grab the needle but knew there weren’t a point to trying. Which there weren’t.

Terrible looked down at him, slow. Letting Ben see he had all day. “Any else?”

“Nay, nay, ‘sall.”

“You certain? Ain’t be too happy you call me up next time you got owes an say you forgetting to tell me aught today, dig? Better you get it all out on the now. I finding out you holding back, ain’t good for you.”

Ben twitched again. “Be all. Swearing it to you, be all. C’n I getting my spike now? Please, gave you all of it, all what knowledge I’m getting.”

“Got a name?”

“Aye.” Ben bobbed he head, too fast for a nod. Looked like some kinda spasm. “Aye, got me a name. Forgetting there, on the second. Got me a name. Gav, be what I hear. Gav be he name.”

For fuck’s sake. “Which one be Gav? The lookout or the dude knowing the lookout?”

“The lookout. Be Gav. Lives inna squat, he do, living there, you find he there. Gav, you look for he.”

Gav. Gav inna squat at Forty-eighth and Grant. Terrible thought he knew the place; year or so past a couple fuckheads decided to start cutting and selling their own Dream a few doors down, and he’d gone there to find em. They’d promised to stop and hadn’t, so nobody ever found em again after that, cepting them at the burnhouse.

He checked his watch. Just past four. No point hunting around there now; anybody working cons like that woulda just gone up Northside, probably stay there til their marks finished drinking in whatany shitty overpriced bars they avoided going home in. Better targets when they was drunk.

So not much point looking for Gav til late, and Terrible ain’t wanted to give him any tip-off by checking the place out ahead of time. Iffen he knew what he’d been look-out for he’d be extra scared of seeing Terrible around.

Ben had started sweating and wringing his hands. Terrible lowered the needle a couple inches. “You certain that all you got?”

Ben nodded.

Terrible brought the needle down more, then lifted it back up. He ain’t liked teasing Ben like that, but he had to keep his attention, let him know he were serious. “You tell any on this? You tell any I’m looking, or what you gave me?”

Ben shook his head so fast it almost made Terrible seasick seeing it. “Nay! Ain’t said to any, I ain’t. I won’t, neither. Won’t never say, I swearing it. Swearing it. C’mon, I ain’t lie on this, you got the knowledge I ain’t a liar, aye?”

What knowledge Terrible had was Ben would lie as soon as look at him, iffen he thought it’d get him what he wanted or get him outta trouble, but he ain’t bothered to say. Ben knew it anyway. “I hear you saying on this to any else, you find youself tryin shoot up through a cast, dig? Ain’t fuckin playing here. You keep you fuckin mouth shut.”

“Not a speak. Swearing, not a speak, not any, not to any.”

Ben’s word weren’t worth much, but it was about all Terrible were gonna get. He couldn’t lock Ben up or whatany till he’d caught the motherfuckers pulled this. He only choice were to threaten hard and hope it stuck.

So he handed the needle over. The sigh Ben made turned his stomach. “Better not be lying, Ben. I ain’t wanting come back here.”

Just as he pushed himself through the pieces of the door, he stopped and turned back around. “I find the dude, an turns out him involved like you say? You get you credit back. Aye? But only when I finding him, an finding out you got true knowledge. Othersides that, you get shit.”

He had to wait on the couch; sucked, causen he had shit he needed to chatter on. But Bump were still in bed, with a couple of his women. Terrible ain’t bothered learning their names anymore. Or, he ain’t bothered til they’d been around a while. Dames moved through Bump’s life—through he bed—like it were some sort of machine that created em; new ones popping out regular and then disappearing out the door. Terrible would disappear out the door heself at that moment, seeing as Bump were either sleeping or busy, but Bump had summoned him so would expect to see him when he came out the room.