Brad was home. What a nerve. Sitting in his house on a hill with his manicured garden of native plants and refinished wood porch. He’d been sorry he hadn’t gotten close to me sooner? Well, let’s just see how he felt about meeting me at all. I banged on his door with both fists, not caring if I woke him from a dead sleep or mid-video.
“Monica,” he said when he opened the door in sweatpants and a T-shirt.
“Is he going to die?” I demanded.
“Can you come in?”
“No. Tell me. Is he getting a heart or not?”
“I have no way of knowing that.”
“Why is he second on the list?”
He held up his hands as if he was fending off an attack. “What are you talking about?”
“I went to your office and saw the list. He’s second. Which means he gets the second heart that comes.”
“First of all—”
“Yes, I’m sorry I went into your office. I was looking for you, but to be honest? Not sorry.”
He stiffened as if he’d been hit. “It’s Sunday. You can call my Doheny office after nine a.m. to make an appointment, but I’m booked until January.”
He didn’t exactly slam the door, but he closed it. I looked through the leaded glass windows and saw him go out to the backyard. I stood still for a second, maybe ten, before I walked over to my house. Not my house. Not my mother’s house. Not the bank’s house. J. Declan Drazen’s house.
It looked as though I would have to move anyway. If I lost Jonathan, and that looked more likely with every passing hour, I couldn’t stay. He’d married me so I’d have the means to avoid his father. The foolish manipulations of a sick man.
I passed my car and walked up to my porch. I didn’t go in the house, though I could have used a shower and the love of a toothbrush. I walked the floorboards where we’d stood as he put his pussy-soaked fingers in my mouth. I sat on the swing where he’d left me to protect me from ruination. Looking into the street, I thought only of what I had to do next. Jonathan was talking to Declan, a stressful situation I’d put him in. Then Declan would create an opening for me to murder Paulie Patalano. But what was the use if he was second on the list? If they were shipping that bloody muscle mass to someone else, what was the point of committing murder to save the wrong man?
I could have implored Brad to do something, anything, pull a string or ten, but I’d invaded his privacy. I should have known better. My own heart pounded as I wondered which of my fuckups would kill Jonathan. I played with the rings on my finger, both heavy with commitment to my course and my love.
A curtain moved in Brad’s house. He could see me, I knew that much. I also knew I didn’t want to be seen. I was thinking evil things. I might as well have been naked and in ready position on the porch. I was thinking evil, desperate thoughts, and I knew they were all over my face. If Paulie’s heart went to someone else, at least I’d move Jonathan to the top.
I got in my car as Brad opened his front door, taking off before he could catch me.