The Living End (Daniel Faust #3)(82)

“I can do worse,” Jennifer said softly. “I can do a lot worse.”

Meadow bounced giddily. The chair legs thumped in time with the clacking of her chains.

“All right!” she said. “Let’s get this party started! What’ve you got? Waterboarding? Little waterboarding action? Gonna pull my fingernails out? Yank my teeth out with pliers? Here, here, do me a favor, get this one in the back of my mouth. It’s got a cavity. Drastic, I know, but you know how much health insurance costs these days? Girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

“Like killin’ Spengler and Sophia? That something you had to do?” Jennifer said. She took a step closer, and I reached out, putting my hand on her shoulder. Reminding her what we were here for. Vengeance had to wait.

“Who?” Meadow said. “You’re gonna have to help me out here, hon. I kill a lot of people. It’s kinda what I do for a living.”

Bentley turned and stormed out of the room. Corman and Margaux weren’t far behind, running to check on him. I forced my anger down, swallowed it, bottled it up deep inside where it couldn’t push me into doing something reckless.

“You’re serious?” Jennifer said. “You don’t even remember their names.”

“Aw, you look confused, sort of like a puppy that just got kicked in the head. I’m going to help you understand, because I’m nice that way. So, story time! Story time with Aunt Meadow! Gather around, kids, nice and close. One of you can sit on my lap. What, no takers? Fine, have it your way.”

“I don’t think we need to hear—” I started to say.

“You do,” Meadow said, suddenly serious as the grave. “You really do, because you don’t seem to know who you’re dealing with. Story time. Last week I was grocery shopping, picking up a few things, and a stock boy of, hmm, maybe nineteen or twenty? He started hitting on me. I was surprised. I mean, I don’t get a lot of action ever since someone carved my f*cking face up!”

I almost took a step back under the heat of her sudden, furious glare. Then her expression softened, and she smiled and continued her tale.

“I figured he took me for an easy lay. Single woman, a little overweight, huge f*cking facial scar, probably not starring on The Bachelorette. Well, I came back after his shift ended, and I let him take me to his dingy little shithole apartment, with his dingy little electric guitar from his dingy little garage band, and I pretended to listen as he told me all his aspirations and dreams.”

“There a point to this?” Jennifer asked.

“Oh boy, is there ever. We ended up in his adorably embarrassing twin bed. And he was bad. I mean, really, excruciatingly bad in the way that only inexperienced young men can be. And I’m lying there while he’s huffing and puffing away, and I’m saying to myself, ‘Self? How can I find the fun in this situation? How can I turn this into me time?’ So I got on top of him, rode him until he came, and—while he’s climaxing, while he’s still buried deep inside of me—I took my knife and I stabbed him, oh, seven or eight times.”

I didn’t say a word. I didn’t have anything to say. The twinkle in her eyes made my stomach churn. She’s proud of herself, I thought. Jennifer shook her head, mute.

“Two kinds of people in this world,” Meadow said. “Sheep and wolves. I’m a wolf. I do what wolves do. Do you think I’m going to find some wellspring of remorse for your dead friends? I won’t. Do you think I’m going to piss myself because you’re going to torture me? I’m not. Sure, you can make me scream until my vocal cords snap, but you have no idea how to hurt me.

“Moral of the story, kids? Go ahead and put a bullet in my brain. Right now. Between the eyes. Do it. Because whatever you’re hoping to gain by keeping me prisoner, you can’t have it. The only rational thing you can do right now, the only sensible, sane thing, for you and for all of humanity, is to kill me here and now. If you don’t, you’ll regret it. That’s a promise.”

“Deal,” Jennifer said and pressed the barrel of her chromed .357 to Meadow’s forehead.





Forty



“No!” I shouted, grabbing Jennifer’s wrist and yanking the gun upward before she could pull the trigger. I dragged her back a few steps and shook her shoulder hard with my bandaged hand.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I said. “We have a plan.”

“You heard the bitch,” Jennifer seethed, looking between Meadow and me. “We’re wasting our time here. Let’s just put her in the ground and be done with it.”

I leaned in and whispered in her ear. She nodded slowly, grudgingly, and put her gun away.

All part of the plan.

“Trouble in paradise?” Meadow said.

“We’re not here to torture you,” I said. “And we’re not here to kill you.”

“Well golly gee willikers, now you’ve got me all kinds of curious.”

“We’re here to hire you,” I said.

Meadow blinked. Then she squinted, as if she didn’t think she’d quite heard me right.

“Lauren’s gravy train is coming to its last stop,” I said, “and trust me, you want to jump off before it gets there.”

She snorted. “Damn right. That’s a little too much crazy even for me. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think she’s got a snowball’s chance in hell of pulling this off. When she messes it up and dies, though, eventually a hundred dead bums are gonna lead right back to her front door, which means they’ll eventually lead to me. No, I’m taking my cash and going somewhere with sunny skies, frosty drinks, and no extradition treaty with the US.”