Ronny twists and squirms.
“Let me ask it this way,” Jardine says. “If Liam Murphy was looking at dying behind bars, and his out was giving you up, what do you think he’d do?”
Ronny knows the answer.
He tells Jardine about the safe house in Lincoln.
Pam shoves clothes into her bag.
Because Liam keeps telling her to hurry. “They could be here any second.”
“Who?”
“The Morettis or the feds,” Liam says. “It doesn’t matter which. Jesus Christ, hurry up.”
Liam’s been in a state since Bernie called with the news of the raid on the Gloc. He’s coked up anyway, and then when he turned on the TV and saw his father being led into the car, he got all the more jacked up.
He takes the three bricks of heroin from under the bed and shoves them into his suitcase. “Thank fucking God I took these to sell, so we have something. Fucking Danny Ryan and his ‘wait’ bullshit, look what happened. Nobody listens to Liam.”
He grabs her bag and zips it shut. “Enough. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
“You know what, Pam?” Liam asks. “Why don’t we sit down and have a nice long chat about the future? We can just sit here and share our feelings until the door crashes in, how about that?”
“You said we were going to Boca,” Pam says. “A nice house, out of the business . . .”
“Boca, you dumb bitch?” Liam says. “There’s a federal dope indictment on me. We have to get out of the country. Mexico, maybe Venezuela, maybe farther, I don’t know.”
“I’m not going.” Pam sits back down on the bed. “To Mexico or anywhere else. If you want to run, run. But without me. I’m not living as a fugitive.”
“You think you’re clean on this?” Liam says. “You’re up to your tight little ass in it. You’ve been spending my coke money for two years. What, the feds are going to give you a pass because you’re so fucking pretty? The bull dykes in the joint are going to think you’re pretty, too, sweetheart.”
“Liam, it hasn’t been good with us for a long time,” she says.
He looks pathetic. Scared, sweaty, his eyes pinned with coke. “What do you mean?”
“We fight all the time,” she says. “We don’t even have sex anymore. You haven’t fucked me in . . . I don’t think you even can.”
He smacks her across the face.
It’s an open hand, but it hurts, wrenches her neck. Then he’s pummeling her, careful not to punch her in the face, but raining fists on her ribs, her thighs, her legs. “You think you’re going to leave me, bitch? After everything I’ve done for you? I put my life on the line, for you, I killed for you. My brother died for you. I’ll never let you leave. I’ll kill you first. I’ll fucking kill you now, then I’ll blow my brains out. Is that what you want?”
“No. Please, Liam. I’ll go with you.” She’s terrified.
“Tell me you love me.”
“I love you.”
“You’re lying.”
“No,” she says. “I love you, Liam. With all my heart.”
He gets off her. “Get in the car.”
Danny goes down to the chapel, kneels at the votary altar and lights a candle.
Then he prays. “Dear Father God, Mother Mary, Saint Anthony, and Jesus. I know I don’t talk to you as much as I should and I probably shouldn’t even be here but I don’t know what else to do.
“Please take Terri’s soul when she comes and keep her safe in heaven. She’s a good person, she didn’t have anything to do with all the bad things I’ve done. One of those innocent bystanders, and why you have to take her instead of me I’ll never know. But you did, and now I have a son to take care of, and a sick old father, and a bunch of other people who need me, and to do all that I’m going to do something very wrong. A mortal sin. And I’m not asking for your forgiveness, to tell you the truth; what I’m asking for is your help to do what I have to do.”
He crosses himself and gets up.
When Jardine gets to the safe house in Lincoln, it looks like Liam left in a hurry. Clothes in the closet, food still out on the kitchen table, shit, a stove burner is still warm.
Just missed him.
Liam drives north up Route 95. Doesn’t say a word to her for an hour, up into Massachusetts, then says, “Why do you make me hurt you?”
Pam doesn’t answer.