- Polite Fictions

Relief flooded over Slick. This is what happens when you make a deal with the devil you don't know, thought Slick. You ... well, you really don't know, do you?

Jesus Christ, that was profound, he scolded himself. But also, not entirely untrue.

"So!" He tried to sound confident. "What's the plan?"

"The plan is that we figure out how to keep this operation going without anyone finding out about this asshole," said Euri. "And make sure we get every last penny for this shit, including his share." He pointed to Doug's bloody head with the butt of his gun. "But first, I have to decide if we kill him. I'm all for makin' shit work any way we know how, but I ain't pleased with the body count -- it's gettin' harder to manage, and people are gonna start asking questions. Unfortunately, I don't see a way to keep him quiet without it."

Well, this was just great, Slick rubbed his sore, bloody temples. This morning, he hadn't killed anyone. A murder virgin, if you will. By nightfall, he was sure he'd have a track record equal to that of a serial killer, and for what? At this point, he wasn't even sure where he was, much less what he was in so deep for. And he was also pretty sure Doug was already dead, but hell if he was going to point that out to Euri.

"What did he mean about the letter?" Slick braced himself. "I thought we agreed to keep her out of this?

He was in over his head. And there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Euri sneered. "Now, who promised you such a silly little thing? That girl of yours -- she's everything. And you know it."