Page 62 of I Will Ruin You

“I’m not an idiot. I’ll hide it. Someplace I can grab it fast. In case things go sideways.”

Lucy pictured it. Billy shooting two people dead in the garage. Like that would be the end of their problems. What was he going to do with two bodies? What did Billy think would happen next? That their bosses wouldn’t be wondering what happened to them, wouldn’t send someone from Mexico to find them? That Billy wouldn’t be the first person they’d want to have a word with? Would he shoot them, too?

The thing was, there’d been a moment there, when they’d first come into the house, when she was thinking she should just tell him. Come clean. Tell him it was her, that she dipped into the stash, that she was really, really sorry, but lay some of the blame on him, too, because he’d never been willing to share any of the proceeds, and if he had, maybe she wouldn’t have done what she’d done.

But she’d tell him she’d find a way to make it right. She’d give him what money she hadn’t already spent after selling the stuff to Digby and others. Maybe she could hit up her mom in Utah for some cash. Lucy hadn’t talked to her in six months, but maybe if she told her she was pregnant, that she needed help setting up a nursery and buying a car seat and a stroller and all that other shit, her mother would be so excited she’d dip into her savings. (Even if it did mean that it was Billy who got her pregnant. Lucy’s mother had tried to tell her the guy was a loser, but did she listen?) Later, when there was no baby, she’d come up with some sob story about losing the kid.

Or maybe she’d tell him they should disappear until things cooled down. Go stay with her mom. Couple of drug dealers really going to chase them all the way to Salt Lake City? They might not head off with a fortune, but they’d have enough to buy gas and junk food till they got there. After they arrived, they’d try to figure out a way to get out of this mess.

Those ideas, and others, had been running through her head, right up until the moment Billy set that gun on the kitchen table.

That gun changed everything.

You did not tell your significant other that you’d been stealing from him and putting his life in danger when he had a gun.

A loaded gun.

“You know,” Lucy said, changing her tone, trying to be upbeat even if she didn’t feel that way, “I think they’ll love the tools, the laptops, all that stuff.”

Billy slowly raised his head, fixing his eyes on her, as though he’d had some sudden realization.

“What did you say?”

“I said I think they’ll go for it. You can buy some time this way.”

“You said laptops.”

“What?”

“Laptops. That’s what you said. Laptops. I didn’t bring in any laptops.”

“You brought in all kinds of shit,” she said. “I thought maybe there was some laptops in there.”

“It was you,” he said.

“What was me?” she said, reaching for her beer, her mouth going dry.

“How would you know I had laptops if you haven’t been in my locker?”

“Come on,” she said, smiling nervously. “That’s crazy talk.”

“Christ, what have you done?” he asked her, picking up the gun. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

Twenty-Eight

Richard

I didn’t pass out.

Bonnie helped me into the house and got me as far as the kitchen, where I sat. Rachel, thankfully, was in the backyard, and did not see me in distress. Bonnie had her phone out, her finger poised over the screen.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Calling an ambulance,” she said matter-of-factly. “You’re having a heart attack.”

“No, no,” I protested. “It’s not a heart attack.” I licked my lips. “I think it’s a panic attack. I’m okay now.”

She set the phone down, went to a cupboard, and brought out a small plastic container of aspirin. She shook one out into her hand and held it in front of me. “Chew this.”