“You the one who wanted Gina Byrd gone,” Dusty said. “You said as much. And she’s the one who went ahead and stuck my daddy. Bled like a pig all in my truck. Had to get him to the hospital yesterday on account of him catching the fever, blood and pus spewing out of his insides.”

“I’m not going down for this,” Chester said.

Flem finished up and turned around to zip up his fly. Dusty walked up close to where Chester sat, Chester smelling his rotten breath at five feet. As Dusty moved into the overhead light, Chester noticed his flannel shirt was unbuttoned and open loose, the man having the damn balls to wear one of those fucking free byrd T-shirts.

“Y’all fucked me,” Chester said.

Dusty Nix nodded. “Maybe,” he said. “But you got a choice here. When that girl reaches out again, Mr. Stagg wants you to agree to her terms. You hear me?”

“I don’t have the damn money.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty old head about nothing,” Dusty Nix said, reaching down for Chester’s phone and snatching it right out of his hand, scrolling through his personal calls. “You get the girl to meet you and we’ll take care of the rest.”

Chester felt his insides turn to cherry Jell-O, heart sinking down into his drawers. Everything had gone way past what he’d wanted. He never wanted Gina dead. He didn’t even want to see TJ’s little smart ass hurt. And what about poor John Wesley? Shit, how far were these peckerheads prepared to go? They wouldn’t leave the job site until everyone who touched that money was dead.

Dusty Nix caught Chester staring at his T-shirt.

“Like it?” Dusty asked.

Chester didn’t answer. His mouth too dry to talk.

“Mr. Stagg sells ’em half off for friends and family,” Dusty said. “You make contact with the girl and I’ll see if I can’t hook you up.”

*   *   *

Ladarius figured this is how you go out, stealing hundreds of cars and busting into dozens of homes, and nothing much happens until you try to boost an old Buick Regal and six mangy dogs eat your ass. He was on his back, kicking and punching, screaming like a little bitch, the dogs going to town on his legs, when he heard the shotgun blast.

That gave the dogs a little jump. Ladarius felt like he could barely hold his head up, losing blood and his ass pumped good with adrenaline. He scooted on back, feeling the gravel up into his skin, not wanting to look down at his legs and knowing he couldn’t see much in the shadow. The shotgun blasted again. Blam!