Six Bad Things_ A Novel - Charlie Huston [32]
—Tranquilo, OK?
I swing the money belt once and toss it to him. It lands neatly at his feet. He keeps the shaking gun pointed at Leo as he squats down. The fingers of his left hand fumble one of the compartments open and he pries out a thick sheaf of bills. His eyes flick to the money. He lets it and the belt fall into the edge of the puddle of Morales’s blood, then he stands back up and starts screaming at me, the gun vibrating.
—What the fuck, Rolf?
—That’s what he says, dude.
—What?
—He wants to know what that shit is, how much?
—It’s about seventy-five thou.
Rolf looks at me.
—No shit?
—Yeah.
—Dude.
Candito yells at us. I take my right hand from my head and point at the money belt.
—Tranquilo, amigo. Setenta cinco mil.
He tilts his head, shakes it.
—Setenta cinco mil?
—Si.
Then he’s screaming again, too fast for me to follow.
—Rolf?
Nothing.
—Rolf?
Nothing. I look at Rolf. He’s staring at me.
—He says fuck your mother and fuck your seventy-five grand. He wants to know where the real money is.
—Tell him that’s all there is and he can take it or leave it.
—What’s he talking about?
—Fucked if I know. Just tell him that’s all there is.
Rolf tells him, and Candito sprays curses and bends over to press the gun against Leo’s head.
—He doesn’t believe you, dude. He says give him the money or he’ll shoot Leo.
I look at Leo heaped on the floor. I can’t tell if he’s breathing. And it’s not like I can run out, call Tim, and have him ship the money back to me.
—Tell him there is no fucking way in heaven or earth that he is ever going to have more than what he has right now. That’s all there is. Tell him if he leaves now, he can keep the money and probably still work it out so he keeps his job and keeps his partner alive. Tell him if he wants to shoot me he might as well do it because I’m about to walk over there and see if Leo is OK.
—Cool.
Rolf tells him. Candito looks from Leo to the money to me as I walk out from behind the table and start to cross the room toward him. Then he bends, scoops up the money belt, points the gun at me, and backs away shouting. I hold my hands out in front of me.
—Tranquilo.
—He says tranquilo yourself. He says he’s gonna take the money and go get the doctor and when he gets back we should be the fuck out of here and if we hurt his partner he’ll hunt us down and blah blah blah.
I stop walking and watch as Candito backs himself around the tiny bar to a doorway covered by a Virgin of Guadalupe curtain. He reaches behind himself and pulls the curtain aside, jabs the gun at me three times, emphasizing that I should not fucking follow him, then ducks through the doorway. I can hear his feet sprinting away on the gravel outside.
—Rolf.
He pops up from behind the barrel.
—Dude, that was tense.
I kneel next to Leo and roll him onto his back. His face is beaten and bloody. At least one of his teeth has been knocked out. I put my finger alongside his throat; his pulse is steady and strong. Rolf walks over and looks at his best friend.
—Motherfucker.
He looks at Morales where he’s still sprawled on the floor, mewing, his eyes rolling in his head.
—Mother. Fucker.
He raises the revolver, shoots Morales in the face, and spits on his corpse.
—Rolf!
I’m staring at what used to be Morales’s face.
—Rolf! What the fuck are you doing?
—You see what this dick did to Leo, dude?
—You don’t just. You don’t just. What the fuck?
—Dude! He fucked up my best friend.
I look at the lines tattooed on my forearm, and find I have nothing else to say.
—So what now?
—You take Leo in the buggy. There’s only the one road in and out of town, so just cruise out to the highway, park, and I’ll drive out in their truck after I take care of the other guy.
—Rolf.
—Hey! You hired the pros to get you out and shit got fucked up. That’s cool, you paid, but now shit’s got to be taken care of. These cops? They know who Leo is, where he lives. Get it? So untwist your panties and help me get him to the buggy, ’cause I got a pig to ambush.
And what do you say