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“Guns make you nervous?” I ask.
“Hurting people does,” he says.
A note of doubt touches me. “We don’t need pacifists tonight, Dante.”
“I said it makes me nervous; I didn’t say I couldn’t do it. In this life, a man has to do many things he doesn’t like.”
He pulls away from the diner. Part of my mind is still clinging to Lexi, to what she told me, the truth in her expression. I wanted to call her, but I have to focus now… for her. Maybe that’s how I can convince myself. I’m keeping the city safe for Lexi.
“They deserve it, Dante,” I tell him. “The Serpents use kids to push their filth. They kidnap and sell people. Don’t waste any tears over them.”
“Tears,” Dante repeats like it’s absurd. “Don’t worry. You’ll see you can count on me when the time comes.”
“Good,” I tell him. “I won’t be wasting any pity on these bastards.” I grind my teeth, the memories far closer to the surface than they should be. Lexi stirred me up, making it much more difficult to tame my thoughts and crush the uncertainty. Before, it was easy.
“I don’t pity them,” he says. “I just don’t enjoy hurting people.”
“You should’ve been a nurse.”
He laughs gruffly. It reminds me of Luca, of me. An odd thought. “I was going to be a doctor once, but…” He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter.”
“You’re still young,” I tell him.
“I’m thirty-six, Colt. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”
I think about his mom, then decide not to keep going. Even if I’m in a pissed mood after what happened with Lexi, I don’t need to unload it all on him.
“I’ve seen what these bastards can do,” I say.
“You did more than see. You think I’m stupid?” Dante says. “Ten years ago, the Serpente Family was the biggest in the West, dealing in all kinds of filth, like you said. People. Drugs. Rumor had it they worked with the Cartel.”
“That was true.”
“It wasn’t the Cartel who killed twelve people, the don, the consiglieres, all the lieutenants and important guys. It wasn’t the Cartel who burned down their bar. It wasn’t the Cartel who disappeared like nothing ever happened, with no witnesses, no trace. And it wasn’t the Cartel, Colt, who raided their bank and left with over five million in cash.”
I nod, but I don’t confirm it. Dante smirks at me and then turns back to the road.
“I don’t see how you could spend that money,” Dante says, “or anybody could…”
“Let’s say a man made a deal with himself. He’d use four million and nine hundred thousand to make the world a better place. He’d donate it. He’d make sure it helped fight the filth the Serpents were doing.”
“Leaving himself a hundred K?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding, remembering. “Then, with that hundred K, he tries to make more money to help more people if he has the chance.”
“Like a vigilante?” Dante says. “For free?”
“For free,” I tell him.
“How did you make the cash after the first hundred?”
When I grin, he laughs, seeming far younger than thirty-six for a moment. The laugh seems to shock and annoy him for some reason. For some reason, before I started speaking with Lexi again, I didn’t want to smile or laugh either.
“Not you, then, this fictional man?”
“Maybe he had an old friend who worked in finance and could short a chemical waste company, which he had no qualms about, and essentially game the financial system to turn it into a couple million. A man can live well on a couple million, especially if he keeps investing.”
“So you’re Batman, then. Got it.”
I chuckle. “When we first met, I didn’t think you were the sort to make jokes.”
“Right back at you,” Dante says, “but it’s not a joke. You’re doing all this to feel like a good person.”
“So what if I am?” I snap.
“Maybe you don’t always feel that way, Colt.” Dante grinds his teeth, staring at the road. “Maybe I know something about that.”
I sit back, feeling pissed. I need to get my emotions under control, but there’s too much boiling on the surface.
“We’re here to work, Dante. This isn’t a therapy session.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dante replies. “What’s the plan?”
I wave a hand. “What do you think we should do?”
“Mask up and kick the front door in. Find the men we need to find, and don’t worry about being too polite to anybody who gets in our way. Try not to kill anyone.” His voice has gone emotionless again. “But kill them if we have to. Do our job.”
“It’s loud,” I say.
“Don’t we want it to be loud? They need to know. Anyway, people don’t like the cops where we’re going.”
It’s a good point. The us-versus-them mentality is strong. It means we can get away with more, but it also means it’s our job to stop these monsters before they creep further into the city, into the places the police actually care about, and where the people don’t hate them.
