I think about it. And it scares me.

He nods.

--Right? Got it? See what I mean? Hey, man, not everybody spends their time rapping with DJ Grave Digga and Dexter Predo and me and old lady Vandewater. And let's not even talk about how you have something going with Daniel. Any idea how many people get a repeat audience with him? How many survive the first one? That is, you know, a very short list. You're, whether you like it or not, and for lack of a better word, you're becoming a player.

He raises a finger.

--And check this out. For every little detail you've picked up, there's a whole mosaic attached to it. You just can't see it yet. Keep going, you're gonna see more. But, you being a Rogue and all, not everyone is going to be happy about your growing understanding of, you know, how we do things. A Rogue has no loyalty. You don't know where he's going to go, which way he'll jump. That puts people, I don't know, on edge. Joe, I'm not gonna lie, it harshes my mellow, too. A good mellow is hard to come by. Security, can't pay enough to have it. And, well, that's kind of it. If your knowing things, combined with your being a Rogue, if that unsettles people? Sooner or later someone's going to deal with that. Screw the metaphors, someone's going to put you in the sun. Like Tom. And for the same reason: because he was harshing everybody's mellow.

He leans back.

--Which is why I can sit here and offer you a job I know you don't want.

--I said, no.

--Joe, man, it doesn't have to be like the old days. I mean, today, yeah, man, that was bad karma all the way around. But it's not really like it used to be. Mostly, it's just showing yourself in the neighborhood. Keeping an eye on things. Pretty much the kind of stuff you do on your own. And, you know, if someone does get out of line, sure, that would be down to you. But you make the call. With this job, you have the license to, well let's just say it like it is, you have a license to fuck people up. You employ it as you see fit. Straight up. Tom sucked at the job. You, you're a natural. We both know that.

I pick up my gun. Put it back in my belt.

--No.

I stand up.

He stands up.

--Joe, come on, I know you, man. You like to know what's up. You got to pick a scab, man. Well this job puts you on the inside, where things happen.

I turn to the door.

--No.

Like that, he's in front of me.

--Please, man. I'm telling you, it's not, like, a threat or anything, but I'm telling you, it can't go on like it has. Not now. Me, I can play it as loose as you. I dig that. But Digga? Predo? They won't have it. Not like this. You have to come back inside, Joe. It's down to that. In or out.

I think about trying to go through him. I think about going out like that, taking the head of a Clan with me. My old buddy.

I pull another smoke from my pack and light it with a match.

I think about the gutted lighter I abandoned at Vandewater's. Have to get a new one. They take weeks to break in, to get the action on the hinge loosened up so it will pop open with a snap of your fingers. The old one was just right.

I smoke.

Terry stands there, watches me. I watch him back. He's in no hurry. There's a clock built into the face of the stove. I look at it. It's getting late.

I think about last year. How close I came to dying. Dying ugly. I think about the last forty-eight hours. How close. I think about how it's hard enough day by day without this kind of crazy shit blowing up in your face. I think about that lousy fucking job. Security. What that job was like when I had it before.

The whip in my hand.

I think about the part of me that likes the way it feels. The part my father and mother cut into me.

Terry, waiting.

Shit.

--No.

He sags, nods his head.

--I did my best.

He steps aside.

I go for the door.

--Joe.

I stop.

--You want to buy a little extra goodwill down here, you can do me a favor.

I turn my head.

--What's that?

He goes to the fridge, comes out with the bag of anathema.

--Drop something off for me.

It's not an errand I'm looking forward to. But I'll be needing every last scrap of goodwill Terry's willing to dole out. Every scrap while I figure where to run to.

Also, I have a couple questions left. Terry left some gaps around this part. The part where everything connects.

And he was right, I do like to pick a scab.

One of the girls answers my buzz. She doesn't want to let me in, but he tells her to do it. I take the stairs. Poncho is there at the door, holding it open. She stands aside to let me in, giving me a nasty look as I go by.

He's on the couch, Pigtails on one side, PJs on the other, taking turns bathing his face with a damp cloth. Ignoring the fact that everything that's gonna heal has healed.

Poncho walks past me. She goes around the couch and stands behind him, hands on his shoulders.

He gives me a little finger wave.

--Hey.

I nod.

--Hey.

He tilts his head.

--So we cool?

--Yeah. We're cool.

--Cool. Cool. Have a seat, man. Ladies, don't be rude. Offer the man something.

Pigtails sniffs.

--I offered last time. He didn't want it. And then he was mean to you.

She hops off the couch and flounces over to me, bends low from the waist.

--But that doesn't mean I won't offer again.

I hold up my hand.

--Maybe just a beer for now.

She straightens up, puts one hand on her hip and points a finger at me.

--You are no fun.

She turns her back, looks at me over her shoulder.

--But I'll get you a beer anyway.

She skips to the fridge.

PJs has put her head in The Count's lap. He strokes her hair.

--Sure you don't want something stronger, man?

He points to the fridge. Pigtails is standing in the kitchen, fanning her hand in front of the open fridge, displaying the contents like a model on a game show. Blood. Lots of it.

--Just the beer for now.

He shrugs.

--Whatever you want, man.

Pigtails skips back over with the beer and an opener. She pops the top, takes a sip, and hands me the bottle.

--Yum.

She points at my lap.

--Mind if I sit?

The Count snaps his fingers.

--Come here, love. That man isn't playful.

She giggles and goes to him.

--I knoooow. I'm just teasing. I like to tease.

She takes her place next to him and puts her head next to PJs'.

--And be teased.

He pats her cheek.

--Naughty.