“Duncan. Please tell me this story doesn’t getworse.”
His jaw clenches. “The banks wouldn’t approve me for a loan. You’d already turned me down once. I lost the money from our parents. Basically, I was out of options.” His eyes press closed. “So, I did somethingstupid.”
“Stupider thaninvesting hundreds of thousands of dollars in virtual currency no one uses except nerds on the internet with too much time on their hands?”Isnap.
“Yes,” he saysflatly.
“Fuck,” Imutter.
We stare at each other in silence for a moment, him searching for words, me holding back a few choice ones using all my remaining willpower. I could throttle him with my bare hands, at themoment.
“Justtellme.”
“There are other ways of getting a loan,” he murmurs finally. “The problem is, those ways usually involve some pretty scary guys who get even scarier when you don’t pay them back on time. Plusinterest.”
I feel my heart start to pound. “To be clear… are we talking aboutloansharks?”
“That’s one wordforthem.”
“As in, the big mafioso-type dudes who break your kneecaps with a baseball bat if you screwthemover?”
“Well, I don’t know if they use a baseballbat,but—”
“Christ,Duncan.”
“I know! I know. Don’t look at melikethat.”
“Like what?” I screech. “Like you’re a total idiot? Becauseyouare.”
“I know I fucked up, okay? Trust me, it’s pretty hard to ignore that realization when there’s a guy taking a literal sledgehammer to your windshield as you watch from the bushes around the corner from your house, practically pissing yourself in the hopes they don’t spot you and decide to aim for a softertarget.”
My face pales. “Would they really come after you?Hurtyou?”
“These guys are not people you mess with, Lila. Not if you want to live to seethirty.”
“I guess that explains the black eye, and why you high-tailed it out ofCalifornia.”
“I couldn’t stay at my place — they were staked out there all the time, waiting for me.” His voice gets softer. “I’m glad Susie left, to be honest. She’s saferwithAl.”
My eyes round with alarm. “Andme? Touching as it is that you’re worried about the girl who left your ass… AmIsafe, if they followed you toBoston?”
“They didn’t,” Duncan assures me, but his eyes are shifty like the time he tried to convince me to give up my half of our lemonade stand profits in exchange for hiscommission feefrom drumming up business in the form of two elderlyneighbors.
“Duncan.”
“Really, sis, there’s no way they could’ve tracked me here. And even if they did, I’m positive they won’t come after you. Almost positive.” His eyes return to mine. “But, just to be on the safe side, if you see anyone lurking, following you, that kind of thing, don’t stick around to makesmalltalk.”
“It’s kind of hard to avoid someone when you have no idea what theylooklike.”
“Giant.”
“Could you be anyvaguer?
“Big, muscular Italian-looking guys in their mid-thirties.”
“Oh,superhelpful!” I droll sarcastically. “That only describes, like, half the population of theNorthEnd.”
“Trust me, these guys don’t look like your typical Bostonians. The two that have been tailing me are pretty distinctive — always wearing black suits, each about six feet tall, one with an ugly birthmark on the side of his face, the other bald as a cueball. Usually driving a black-on-black SUV with California plates, though I doubt they’ll be using the same wheels they did back home.” He pauses. “You see them, you eventhinkyou see them, do me a favor and run. Run like hell.Hearme?”