“D. You can’t kill him. It’s against the law.”
Without responding, I waited for him to take the leash.
Tallus scoffed, skewering me with a look that threatened doom, but he stopped arguing. I would pay for this later.
Once Tallus—still limping—was gone, I addressed Darcy, who glared warily from under his bangs.
“Let’s take a walk.”
“Are you going to kill me?”
I chuckled. “No. Tallus has a flair for the dramatics and watches too much TV.”
“Where are we going?”
“I saw a convenience store on the corner. I’ll buy you a pack of cigarettes and toss in a couple of bags of chips, cans of pop, or whatever you think you need. Fuck, I don’t know. I’ll buy a loaf of bread if you want. Then, you’re going to tell me what I want to know.”
“But I don’t know—”
I held up a hand, stopping the lie.
“You want a smoke as bad as I do, kid. Last chance.”
I didn’t wait for him to argue, aimed for the door, and left.
It took Darcy three and a half minutes before he pulled himself out of the booth and followed, dragging his tattered running shoes on the pavement like a scorned toddler. We walked silently to the store, and I did as I promised. I bought him smokes and enough high-calorie snacks to last a week.
On the street, Darcy glanced longingly in the direction of his apartment. I could read the yearning to escape all over his face.
I said nothing. He knew what I wanted.
Darcy set the bags of goodies on the ground and dug around until he found the pack of cigarettes. He tore through the cellophane and withdrew one, fitting it between his lips. Patting his pockets, he groaned. “I lost my lighter.”
I found my Bic and tossed it at his chest. He caught it, mumbled thanks, and lit up. The burning desire to join him was almost too much to resist. I’d gone all day without a cigarette, and I was at my limit.
When Darcy caught me staring, he offered the pack.
My fingers twitched to accept. My blood surged, but I shook my head and gritted my teeth. “I’m trying to quit.”
He pocketed the cigarettes andmylighter and stared down the street as he smoked.
I waited.
“He gave me a burner,” Darcy said when his cigarette was half gone. “Told me I could call him Luke, but that’s not his real name.”
“Where’s the phone?”
“My apartment.”
“Do you still work for him?”
“I told you—”
“And you lied. Are you still working for him?”
Darcy hauled on the cigarette until the cherry end glowed. He exhaled a cloud of smoke and nodded.
I motioned for him to walk. At his building, I asked, “How many times have you met the guy in person?”