Burn Scars Eddie Generous (e ink epub reader .TXT) 📖

running, but turned down the stereo. Ten yards or so away, Linda’s personal car, a blue Chevy Impala, faced the street. Dim but not dark even in the dreary shadowy space surrounding the warehouse. The sky was light enough to see the interior of Linda’s car was empty. Dwayne’s van was there, parked crookedly and angled almost directly at the side of Cary’s truck. Also empty.

“Well,” Cary said.

“Well,” Rusty said and glanced at the duffle bag.

“Guess this is where we part.”

“Wait, what?”

“Linda’s going to set a meeting to divvy the proceeds of our little venture.” Cary tapped the bag.

Rusty’s frown was pretty near deep enough to drag his eyebrows over his eyeballs. “Man, no way. That bag’s not leaving my sight.”

“It’s cool, I promise.”

Rusty shook his head. “Man, no. Listen to yourself. If it were flipped and I asked you to trust some woman I was screwing—”

“Don’t be disrespectful. I love Linda and she loves me. It might be a new thing, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real. Trust me. Have I ever led you wrong?”

“That’s not the point. Maybe you’re being led wrong. Just ask her to count it and give me my part, see what she says. She’s here somewhere, right? It should be simple to give me my chunk of the money, right?”

Cary sighed and stretched his back where he sat, planking his pelvis up against the steering wheel. He eased and put his left hand on the door handle, right hand still on the bag. “Okay, we’ll do that. You want to carry the bag? I’ll tell her the plan and we’ll go somewhere. Nobody’s pulling a fast one here, it’s simple like you said.”

“You carry the bag. She might listen to you. Linda thinks I’m stupid, and maybe she’s right, but you’ll get more respect to demand something than me.”

“Man, it’ll be cool. She’ll be cool.”

Cary tapped a finger on the door handle. There was a crack somewhere with Linda, something Rusty had to show him, even if he didn’t see precisely where it was. Since the beginning of time, buds had to watch out for buds when it came to girls and women in relationships. Maybe that was sexist, or maybe it was smart.

“Where is she anyway?” Rusty said. “She’s supposed to be here, right?”

“Probably napping in the back seat of her car.” Rusty pointed to the Impala. “That thing’s half as big as your whole apartment. Not that that’s saying much.”

Rusty barked a single laugh, letting some of the pent air from his chest. Cary opened his door and pulled the bag behind him, the canvas of the bag swishing against the seat, sounding something like windbreaker pants between meaty thighs.

They couldn’t go to the shed because of the security panel. Linda sleeping in a car seemed absurd. Handing over all the cash for Linda to dole out later was stupid. Everything about the situation was off, they should’ve been meeting with everyone, and how Cary didn’t see it was almost a mystery…though not quite. He’d been lonely and Linda gave him something he’d thought was gone forever, but at what price? Didn’t he see there had to be a cost?

Panic bubbled inside Rusty, welling and filling him up, boiling over. “Second thought, what if we all meet somewhere, all of us. Get Danny and Craig involved.” Rusty put his hands on the warm, vibrating hood and drummed a short beat. “What do you say?”

“That’s not necessary,” Linda said. She started from the shadows next to the warehouse. She wore a charcoal pea coat, had her hands in the pockets. Her lips had been painted pink and makeup prettied her face, but swelling was apparent underneath it all.

“Heya,” Cary said and took a step toward Linda.

“Where’s Dwayne?” Out of the shadows and facing the gentle glow coming from the eastern horizon, Linda’s wounds were clearer with each step. Her hair was damp, as if she’d recently showered—though that wasn’t exactly it. Her eyelid bulged and a dark hue played behind the gentle blue eyeshadow. Add on a burst lip and a gulley slightly lighter pink than the lipstick. A trickle of glistening fluid trailed down from her hairline. She lifted her elbow without removing the hand from her coat and swiped at the fluid. Not blood. Thinner. Darker.

“He showed up here. He’s gone now though. You dye your hair?” Cary said.

Rusty tilted his head. Not just showered and dolled up, she’d changed her hair. She’d changed her hair because… Cary was going with a plan that was business as usual, even after the facts started mounting. Rusty looked at Linda’s car, the way it faced the street, like she’d backed in, and for what reason? Dwayne’s van was there, parked in a way that an obvious rush had occurred—which Christine would’ve been in when she came back. She was smart to leave it, she was always so damned smart.

Rusty blinked and drank in the entire scene. If anybody happened by, they’d know something was up. Anybody but Cary.

Why didn’t Cary see it, even if love was in the way?

And why in the hell did she want to meet at the quiet, secluded warehouse?

“Did you kill him?”

“Well, Christine did that. He was choking Rusty…” Cary shrugged as if to say what do you expect?

“Christine—?” Linda started, but was cut off.

Like lightning, a thought struck. “How did Dwayne know I was here?” Rusty said, still planted on the far side of the truck’s hood. “Dwayne knew I was here, how’d he know to come here?”

Cary looked at Rusty, the expression suggested he’d forgotten Rusty was there. Guy was in Lalaland. Linda had him blind, existing in a pussy vacuum.

“I told him,” Linda said. “I hadn’t expected him to hit me. That prick, if he’d had any real balls all these years,