Seventy-Five

We drove back to Boston in silence. Sal had taken us to a long marshy road in Revere, where the rushes did their intended job and concealed the corpses we left behind. Talevi and Sami were seagull food. Lucy curled against me in the back seat, her bare foot tucked up under her with a bandage over the spot where Talevi had cut off her toe. As we drove over the Tobin bridge, I borrowed Sal’s phone and texted Jael.

I’m safe.

How?

Sal saved me. Long story. Meet us at my house.

I called out, “Hey, could you take us to Follen Street?”

Sal said, “Whatever.”

We lapsed back into silence as the sun set and we slipped into night.

Sal pulled into a spot in front of my house. Jael’s MDX was parked down the street. She got out, walked toward us.

Sal saw Jael and said, “None of this ever gets mentioned again, capisce?”

“Yeah,” I said.

Sal turned to face Lucy. “You too, honey. Please. Don’t tell anyone. If you say anything, Tucker and I will go down for it.”

“Why would I go to prison?” I asked.

“Because you fucking deserve to, you shit. I’d see to it.”

Lucy said, “I promise. I won’t say anything.”

Jael stood next to the car. She ran her finger around the bullet hole she had created in the hood. She rapped on the tinted window and peered in. We opened the car doors and climbed out, standing in a small circle over the memory of JT’s chalk outline.

Jael said to Sal, “Thank you for saving Tucker.”

Sal said, “Yeah. No problem.”

Jael asked, “How did you know?”

“Lyla works for me. I heard that she shot up the Commons garage and I asked her about it. She told me that she was working for Talevi.”

I said, “She tried to kill me.”

“No, shithead, she did not try to kill you. If she’d tried to kill you, you would be dead.”

Jael said, “This is true.”

Sal said, “She told me that she was supposed to be a distraction.”

“A distraction? She nearly shot me.”

“You pissed her off when you hit her in the face with those keys. She kinda loses her shit sometimes.”

Another piece fell into place.

“By the way,” said Sal, “she’s really sorry. She didn’t know you were my cousin. She’s sorry she shot at you.”

“Well, that’s comforting,” I said. “Tell her no hard feelings.”

“Good,” said Sal. “You don’t want her mad at you. She’s fucking nuts.”

“Really.”

Jael said, “She is not well.”

Sal said, “Talevi had tried to hire Lyla to drive the car and kill you two. She called me and I told Talevi that she was busy. I volunteered to be Talevi’s gun.”

I tried again. “You can’t believe how sorry I am for doubting you.”

“Whatever,” said Sal.

I said to Jael, “Please do me a favor and take Lucy to Mass General to get her toe fixed up.”

Lucy said, “You’re not coming?”

I looked at the ground. “No. There is something I have to do. I’m sorry.”

“You seem to be apologizing a lot today,” said Lucy. She turned and limped toward Jael’s MDX. They climbed in and drove down the street. I waved at Lucy. She ignored me.

I said to Sal, “I need one more favor.”

“You want me to tuck you in?”

“No, I need a gun.”

“Why?”

I knew who had burned my mother’s house down and why. I told Sal.

Sal said, “You don’t want a gun.”

“Why?”

“Because you aren’t a fucking killer, that’s why.”

I relived the moment when my heel connected with Sami’s nose. I felt the crack in my foot as the thin bones of his nose were driven into his brain. I watched again as his eyes rolled back in his head and blood spurted down my shoe. I remembered the feeling when I saw his shuddering last breath and realized what it meant. I had killed the man who was about to kill Lucy and me.

It felt good.

It shouldn’t have felt good. It should have filled me with remorse. I should have spent time imagining the wife who wouldn’t see him again, the kids who wouldn’t have a dad, the mom who would bury her son.

Screw them all. He had felt Lucy up, bound our wrists with zip ties, covered our mouths with tape, and was going to shoot us and leave us for the tide. It shouldn’t have felt good to kill him. It did.

“You’re wrong,” I said, “I am a killer.”

“That was a fucking accident,” said Sal. “This won’t be like that. You’re gonna have to look him in the eye and say goodbye. You’re not gonna be able to do it, and he’ll kill you.”

I said, “Believe me, I’ll be able to do it.”

“Are you sure it’s him? Are you abso-fucking-lutely sure?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ve got evidence that nails him. I’m going to show it to him and then kill him.”

“Just show it to your FBI buddy. Let him do the work.”

“No.”

“Show it to me and I’ll get Lyla to do it. This guy killed my aunt; Lyla would do it for free.”

“No. I swore to God.”

“You didn’t even make Confirmation, now you’re swearing to God?”

“Are you going to give me a gun?”

Sal reached into the car and fumbled around in the glove box. He produced a gun.

“Here. It’s a fucking revolver; it’s loaded. Just pull the trigger hard. You didn’t get it from me.”

“I know. Thanks,” I said.

“You’re gonna get fucking killed,” said Sal.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Suit yourself,” said Sal. He turned to climb into the car.

I ran around the car. “Hey, Sal.”

He stood next to the driver’s door, waiting.

I said, “Are we good?”

Sal grabbed me and pulled me into a bear hug. “Yeah, little cousin, we’re good.”