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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

Five minutes later they were heading east on Martin Luther. They could have hit Trumbull Avenue and headed north, a short trip, but Johnny Boy insisted Spencer take a roundabout route.

He made Spencer pull up to check if they were being tailed. He made him flip a U, drive onto the Lodge Freeway and then straight off again, made him keep the pedal down—for most of the time.

“Long probation period in this, Spencer. Know what that means?”

“Sure, means you can fire me.”

“Means we can watch you. We will watch you. We know where you’re going, and we can pick you up at any one of your drops. If we do, we don’t want to be able to tail you. You follow?”

“Sure.” Spencer didn’t much care for the tone. He’d just been starting to relax a little, thinking the cloak-and-dagger bullshit was just something to put up with. And he was fine with that. He’d known he’d be breaking some laws even before he left the loading bay with Cal. He’d never done anything illegal before, unless he counted his drug habit (which he didn’t) or breaking the speed limit, and he didn’t think too highly of getting busted. So he was quite happy to follow the rules. He’d already decided this was a finite job, until he had a healthy stash. Then he’d move on to something respectable. But right now, the aroma of fast money hung in the air.

“So the stopping, the driving fast without being noticed, the checking, all that shit?” said Johnny Boy. “That is what you do. And when you’re done, you delete messages. Always. These are the rules. Following them is what keeps us ahead in this game. The last guy? He didn’t follow them so well. Got sloppy, greedy, whatever. I had him whacked.”

Spencer did a double take at Johnny Boy.

“Yeah, that’s right. I had him killed.”

They nearly ran a light.

14

14

The Game

The two men looked at each other. Neither spoke. Spencer heard neither cross traffic nor engine throb. Johnny Boy’s face was challenging in its blankness, his eyes deep pools of blackness. No longer the favorite uncle.

Johnny Boy stared back saying nothing, his muteness confirmation in itself. Horns sounded.

“Light’s changed, Spencer.”

After one more incredulous look at Johnny Boy, Spencer pulled away.

Five minutes later, Johnny Boy suddenly erupted into laughter, slapping his hand on the dash as he doubled up in great belly-aching fits. He put his other hand on Spencer’s shoulder and tried to speak but couldn’t—he was laughing so hard. Spencer, nonplussed, tried to concentrate on the road.

“Your face!” Johnny Boy eventually managed. “Oh my guiltless God, if you could have seen your face, boy! Like, who was the guy, Yosemite Sam? I say, I say, I say what?”