BooksBarbecue
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Chapters (57)
  1. Welcome to the Game
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraphs
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. Six months later . . .
  56. Acknowledgments
  57. Back Cover

There was a strange tranquility in the room—just that bleep hiss. Abraham became conscious of the big guy standing at her side. She didn’t want to move, to twitch even. Didn’t want to give that gun the slightest excuse to blow her face inside out. But she knew the big guy was watching her. Was he going to cut her throat? When she pictured herself being found, white uniform drenched in blood, she couldn’t help herself; her eyes strained to the left. Lumber shirt man didn’t eighty-six her for the eyeball move so, very slowly, she turned and looked up into the big guy’s eyes. He gave a small nod as if to say he’d been waiting for her to do just that. Then he smiled, a tight smile that said, I’m going to enjoy this. I’m not so sure about you. And with that he swung his fist so hard into the side of her head her skull fractured. She flew across the room like a rag doll fired from a circus cannon, crashed into the metal bedside table, and landed in a heap. Again, stillness.

Bleep hiss.

Eddie removed his sunglasses, revealing that blank, off-the-wall stare of his. Eddie the new guy—wiry and lively, eager to prove, keen to learn.

“Nice. Cracked but not whacked,” he observed. He’d just witnessed a specialty in the Yo-Yo’s repertoire: a punch to the head hard enough to fracture but not kill. He was kind of renowned for it, actually. At seafood restaurants, whoever ordered lobster, they’d just pass it down the table to the Yo-Yo. He’d line up the pieces and thump, thump, thump. Hard enough to crack but not to splat.

“Did you kill the cop?” Eddie asked the Yo-Yo.

“No. Watch him. If he comes round, slug him. Don’t waste him.”

Eddie was flattered that the Yo-Yo thought he might kill a cop. A definite compliment. At the same time, if he were to waste the cop, he knew the trouble they’d both be in with Dom would be way too real. He should demonstrate his appreciation of that.

“I’m not stupid. Jeez.” He crouched down beside Hess, checked his pulse, and then flipped him into the recovery position. He knelt and put his gun to the back of the cop’s head.