Chapter 35 - Get In The Car

Chapter 35: Chapter 35 - Get In The Car

She picked it up and put it to her ear.

"What do you want, Angus?"

"Hey, Red." His voice was gravelly, slurring slightly at the edges, like he’d started drinking early. "We need to talk about tonight. I’ve got a good spot in mind. Upper West Side. Rich guys, better wallets. Be ready by nine."

Carrie took a breath.

"No."

There was a pause on the other end.

"What?"

"No," she repeated. "I’m not doing it anymore, Angus. Any of it. I’m done."

Angus was quiet for a moment. Then he laughed, low and ugly.

"This about last night? You still upset about that skinny bastard?" He sighed like he was being forced to deal with a child. "Look. I was in a bad mood, all right? We went through all that trouble and he only had two grand. Two grand, Red. I got pissed. I overdid it. I’ll admit that."

Overdid it. Carrie closed her eyes and saw Jesse’s face, bloody and swollen, lying on the wet pavement.

"Tonight’ll be different," Angus went on. "I promise. I’ll keep my cool. You do your thing, we get in, we get out. Easy money. Nobody gets hurt."

"No."

"Red—"

"I don’t want to do this anymore," Carrie said. Her voice was shaking, but she kept going. "I never wanted to do it in the first place. You know that. I only ever—"

"You only ever what?" Angus cut her off, and the fake friendliness was gone from his voice. "Let me remind you of something, sweetheart, since you seem to be forgetting. Your little sister lost thirty thousand dollars’ worth of my product. Thirty grand. And you agreed to work it off. That was the deal."

Carrie’s grip tightened on the phone.

Beside her, Aileen had gone very still. She could hear every word.

"So unless you’ve got thirty grand lying around," Angus went on, "you don’t get to tell me you’re done. You’re done when I say you’re done."

Carrie looked at the coffee table, where her banking app was still glowing on her phone screen. Twenty thousand dollars.

She looked away from it.

"I’ll find another way to pay you," she said.

"Another way? What other way? You’re a waitress, Red. You think you’re gonna pay me back in tips?"

Carrie almost laughed.

"Goodbye, Angus."

"Don’t you dare hang up on—"

She hung up.

She sat there for a moment, staring at the black screen, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.

Aileen grabbed her arm.

"What did you just do?" she whispered. "Carrie. What did you just do? You can’t hang up on Angus like that. You know how he gets. He’s going to be so mad."

"I know."

"He’s going to come here."

"I know." Carrie set the phone down. Her hands were still shaking, but her voice had gone strangely calm. "I’m not worried about Angus right now."

Aileen stared at her like she’d lost her mind. "Then what are you worried about?"

Carrie looked up at the clock on the kitchen wall.

5:12 p.m.

"I’ve got somewhere to be at six."

*******

At 6:10 p.m., Carrie was standing on the sidewalk in front of a three-story brick building in Astoria.

She’d checked the address on the napkin six times. This was it.

She’d changed out of her uniform into a simple white top and a pair of jeans. She’d pulled her red hair up into a messy bun. She’d thought about putting on makeup, then decided against it. Then she’d changed her mind and put on a little mascara and lip balm. Then she’d felt stupid for caring.

It wasn’t a date. It was a confrontation. Possibly an arrest.

She’d been standing in the same spot for ten minutes. The sky was going orange over the rooftops. A man walking his dog had passed her twice and given her a strange look both times. An old woman on the second floor of the building next door was watching her from behind a lace curtain.

He wasn’t here.

He’d told her not to be late, and she’d shown up five minutes early, and he wasn’t even here.

Carrie pulled out her phone and smoothed out the crumpled napkin. Her thumb hovered over the keypad, ready to dial the number he’d written.

The low, smooth growl of an engine rolled down the street.

A black Porsche Panamera glided around the corner and slid to a stop right in front of her, so close to the curb she could have touched it.

The engine cut off.

The driver’s door opened, and Jesse Byrne stepped out.

He’d taken off his jacket and loosened his tie. The top button of his shirt was undone. He looked tired, but there was something easy about the way he moved, like a man who’d had a long day and won every round of it.

He closed the car door, leaned against it and looked her up and down. His eyes traveled slowly from her messy bun to her plain white top to her jeans and sneakers. Then back up.

"Is that what you’re wearing to our date?"

Carrie’s face went hot.

"This isn’t a date," she said quickly. "I’m only here because you threatened to—"

"Get in the car, Carrie."

She stopped mid-sentence.

Jesse pushed off the car and opened the passenger door. He stood there holding it, waiting.

Carrie didn’t move.

"I thought we were going to talk here." She gestured at the building behind her. "At your place. I think we should just—"

"I don’t like to repeat myself, Carrie."

His voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to. It dropped lower, quieter, and somehow that made it hit harder.

"But I’ll do it this once."

He held her gaze.

"Get in the car."

Carrie swallowed hard.

Every rational part of her brain was screaming that she shouldn’t. That getting into a car with a stranger who had every reason in the world to hate her was the dumbest thing she could possibly do. That she should turn around and walk away and take her chances with the police.

But another part of her, a part she didn’t want to look at too closely, felt something warm and fluttery curl low in her stomach at the sound of his voice.

She walked to the car.

She slid into the passenger seat. The leather was soft and cool against her back, and the inside of the car smelled brand-new.

Jesse closed the door behind her and walked around to the driver’s side. He got in, pressed the ignition, and the engine purred awake.

He didn’t say a word.

He pulled away from the curb, and the Porsche disappeared down the street into the orange evening light.