Read Online Bust by Jason Starr, Ken Bruen - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jason Starr, Ken Bruen
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Dillon said. “You should be thankin’ me. I got us two thousand extra dollars. You know how many Protestants I’d have to kill for that? A lot.”
“You could’ve blown everything,” Angela said.
“Blowing stuff is what I do, it’s me birthright. That stupid fooker is going to bring us all that money. You should have seen his face — how scared he was.”
Dillon’s mutilated lips looked even uglier when he said this, as if he relished putting the fear of be-jaysus into someone.
“He was scared?”
“Fook yeah.” Dillon started laughing. “You know what I told him? I told him he better not be home when I was there ’cause if he was home I might pop him too.” Dillon was laughing harder. “I don’t know how I didn’t start laughing my arse off right then. But I kept looking at him like this...” Dillon made a serious face, his ruined lips making his features even more horrific. “It was like I was feckin’ Michael Collins when he was arranging to kill theBrit agents, you should see that fillum, it’s mighty. It was like I could see him thinking, Uh-oh, this fellah wouldn’t be codding. It’s amazing how somebody so rich could be so feckin’ stupid.”
“He’s stupid all right,” Angela said, “but he’s not as stupid as you think. I mean a guy doesn’t make so much money, own a company like that, being stupid.”
“That’s not true,” Dillon said. “Look around sometime. There’re a lot of stupid people in this city, and a lot of feckin’ rich people too.”
Dillon took his last bite of Apple Jacks, slurped down the flesh-colored milk, then reached for the bottle of Jameson. He poured a shot, called it his eye opener, and drained it. He waited for the liquid to hit his stomach, then gave what he called his delicious shudder.
Angela had a minor scare when Max said, “The only thing I’m worried about is this Popeye character.” Everything had been going well, but now she was afraid that he would find out about everything.
Later that day, Angela had another scare when Diane in accounting came up to her at the coffee machine and said in a hushed voice, “Can I ask you a personal question?”
Angela knew that when a woman asked another woman that, it was a given that some kind of bitchiness was on its way.
“Sure,” Angela said.
Diane was always trying to lose weight — lately she was on The Cabbage Soup Diet. Maybe she was going to ask for some diet advice, get some crack in that Angela should try the diet too, not that she needed to lose weight or anything because she looked so good . Yeah, right.
But instead Diane said, “Is there something going on between you and Max?”
“Max?” Angela said.
“You know...” Diane said, “I mean you’re always going into his office, locking the door...”
“Who told you that?”
“No one. I just noticed it myself and I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“There’s nothing going between me and Max,” Angela said as though the idea repulsed her. But, just for effect, she held her stomach like she was going to throw up and said, “That’s really disgusting. I mean, how gross is that? Could you imagine going down on that flabby belly?”
“I knew it couldn’t be true,” Diane said. “I mean, it’s bad enough working for him. Who would want to sleep with him?”
Angela hoped Diane would forget all about it, but she’d have to watch her closely just in case. Then, walking away, she thought, And hon, the diet, it’s like, not working.
That night Angela said to Dillon, “You know what that asshole said to me today? That I should add a cup size to my breasts.”
They were in bed, passing a joint back and forth. Dillon took his hit and passed the joint to Angela then said, “So?”
“So?” Angela said. “What do you mean, So?”
“I mean, So? Like so what so.”
Jesus, he sure knew how to annoy the shite out of a person.
“What? You don’t like my breasts either?”
“I didn’t say that,” Dillon
“You could’ve blown everything,” Angela said.
“Blowing stuff is what I do, it’s me birthright. That stupid fooker is going to bring us all that money. You should have seen his face — how scared he was.”
Dillon’s mutilated lips looked even uglier when he said this, as if he relished putting the fear of be-jaysus into someone.
“He was scared?”
“Fook yeah.” Dillon started laughing. “You know what I told him? I told him he better not be home when I was there ’cause if he was home I might pop him too.” Dillon was laughing harder. “I don’t know how I didn’t start laughing my arse off right then. But I kept looking at him like this...” Dillon made a serious face, his ruined lips making his features even more horrific. “It was like I was feckin’ Michael Collins when he was arranging to kill theBrit agents, you should see that fillum, it’s mighty. It was like I could see him thinking, Uh-oh, this fellah wouldn’t be codding. It’s amazing how somebody so rich could be so feckin’ stupid.”
“He’s stupid all right,” Angela said, “but he’s not as stupid as you think. I mean a guy doesn’t make so much money, own a company like that, being stupid.”
“That’s not true,” Dillon said. “Look around sometime. There’re a lot of stupid people in this city, and a lot of feckin’ rich people too.”
Dillon took his last bite of Apple Jacks, slurped down the flesh-colored milk, then reached for the bottle of Jameson. He poured a shot, called it his eye opener, and drained it. He waited for the liquid to hit his stomach, then gave what he called his delicious shudder.
Angela had a minor scare when Max said, “The only thing I’m worried about is this Popeye character.” Everything had been going well, but now she was afraid that he would find out about everything.
Later that day, Angela had another scare when Diane in accounting came up to her at the coffee machine and said in a hushed voice, “Can I ask you a personal question?”
Angela knew that when a woman asked another woman that, it was a given that some kind of bitchiness was on its way.
“Sure,” Angela said.
Diane was always trying to lose weight — lately she was on The Cabbage Soup Diet. Maybe she was going to ask for some diet advice, get some crack in that Angela should try the diet too, not that she needed to lose weight or anything because she looked so good . Yeah, right.
But instead Diane said, “Is there something going on between you and Max?”
“Max?” Angela said.
“You know...” Diane said, “I mean you’re always going into his office, locking the door...”
“Who told you that?”
“No one. I just noticed it myself and I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“There’s nothing going between me and Max,” Angela said as though the idea repulsed her. But, just for effect, she held her stomach like she was going to throw up and said, “That’s really disgusting. I mean, how gross is that? Could you imagine going down on that flabby belly?”
“I knew it couldn’t be true,” Diane said. “I mean, it’s bad enough working for him. Who would want to sleep with him?”
Angela hoped Diane would forget all about it, but she’d have to watch her closely just in case. Then, walking away, she thought, And hon, the diet, it’s like, not working.
That night Angela said to Dillon, “You know what that asshole said to me today? That I should add a cup size to my breasts.”
They were in bed, passing a joint back and forth. Dillon took his hit and passed the joint to Angela then said, “So?”
“So?” Angela said. “What do you mean, So?”
“I mean, So? Like so what so.”
Jesus, he sure knew how to annoy the shite out of a person.
“What? You don’t like my breasts either?”
“I didn’t say that,” Dillon
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