Page 93 of The Lies I Told
“That’s right. We met in the hospital after Marisa’s accident.”
“I met Jo-Jo when she was in high school, but when we met again five years ago, it took me weeks to get her to go out on a date with me. She knew I had a record and didn’t want any part of it. Does Brit know that you know me from before?”
“I didn’t see the point in bringing it up.”
“I don’t like remembering the camp. But I told Jo-Jo about my time there and in prison. Better she see me for who I am. For better or worse, right?”
“Right.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t say a word. You saved my ass in camp, and I don’t forget my friends.” I had been dealing in camp and was expecting a shipment through the kitchen. It’d been stolen by one of the kids, and my ass would’ve been in a sling if I didn’t sell and repay my supplier. David had told me at the meal break who’d taken the drugs. It didn’t take much to steal them back or beat the hell out of the thief. From then on, David saw to it that my stuff was protected. He always refused a cut. His payback would come later, in the form of one hell of a favor.
David drank his beer. “Good to know. Thanks.”
I grinned. “When are you going to do the deed—ask Brit to marry you?”
A hesitant smile tugged at his lips. “Later tonight, actually. I’m meeting her for drinks in a couple of hours.”
“Best of luck to you. She’s a great gal. She’s been through hell and back. Mother died, then her sister. Father split, then died. A lot of tragedy in one family. But you know that.”
“What’s bringing all this up, Jack?” David asked. “You don’t do anything without a reason.”
“Neither do you.”
David shrugged.
“Like you, I’m protecting what’s mine. Jo-Jo just told me she’s expecting.”
He tipped his beer bottle toward me. “Congratulations.”
“A lot on the line now. Not just a wife but a family to protect.”
David traced his finger along the moist exterior of the glass. “This is an odd conversation, Jack. Not one I wanted to have tonight.”
“You’re right, man. Not appropriate. But we need to make sure we understand each other. I can’t afford to clean up any more of your fuckups.”
David slipped back behind his silence.
I sipped my beer. “We both care about Brit, and we want her to be happy. She and I are going to be doing big business together.”
“What’re you getting at?”
I offered my best grin, the one I saved for unruly patrons and squirrelly drug dealers. “Keep the past in the past. Don’t do anything to screw it up like before.”
“I’ve no intention of screwing anything up.”
“Nobody ever plans to fuck up.” The beer tasted weak, too watery for my tastes. “I know how hard atonement can be. Everyone wants to judge you for your past.”
“This is friendly advice?” he asked.
“You know me better than that.” I laughed. “It’s a promise. I’ll fuck you up bad if you mess with Brit or share the old days during some pillow-talk session.”
“It’s in both our interests if I don’t.”
“That’s right.” I rose, tossed two twenties on the table. “Best of luck tonight. She’s a fine woman but a real ballbuster.”
38
MARISA
