sales teams. Had dinner with you once at a gentlemen’s club downtown. Said you were a nice guy. Said you hooked him up nice. Hooked him up so nice he got a girl pregnant.”
Vincent rested the spade on the cement and leaned against the long shaft; he laughed. He remembered who Taylor was talking about. They had the guy figured for a wire a long time ago.
“We were convinced they were both going to end up in a ditch somewhere,” Taylor said.
“That’s why it didn’t happen,” Vincent said, nodding to himself.
“That’s the only reason?”
“Only one I can think of.”
“You really are a hard fucker. That why you’re not eating? Showing off the muscle, showing people they should respect your for being strong or something?”
It wasn’t too long ago he would have had Fireball or someone else on his staff escort Taylor out of his sight. But there was nothing to gain from such antics now. This man was testing him. Trying to muscle him in a different way.
A tiny park in the middle of their neighborhood hosted their weekly barbecue, where people brought whatever meat they had managed to salvage from the various trips out into the city, or wherever else they could try to scrounge things up. Vincent watched as a woman walked two children down the street toward the park, both of her hands occupied with one of theirs. Those kids were about to enjoy eating barbecued dog, cat, rat, frog, rabbit, robin. A couple families had venison because the deer population was running around unchecked, although it didn’t make it any easier. There were plenty of dead deer in the streets, too. And there was competition.
“They don’t need to respect me for anything,” Vincent said.
“But you were important here,” Taylor said. “These people knew you, and some of these houses were dope houses. This was your turf. And now people from all over are finding you because they hear that you have guns and that you can protect them.”
Vincent stopped shoveling. He looked down at the pile of garbage, and a part of him wanted to snap. But what would that solve? It was about time someone said these things.
But a man like Taylor didn’t start conversations like these out of boredom. It was smarter to keep this conversation going. To find out what Taylor wanted.
Not even Vega wanted to have these conversations. He always felt like they should talk, but it wasn’t easy. He worried she would kill herself, even though she had never tried. He expected it would be out of the blue, and she would want him to try and stop her. Why would she want that? He wasn’t sure. There wasn’t much he was sure about anymore.
“I don’t know if they’re expecting something from me,” Vincent said. “I don’t know what they would want. I didn’t ask anyone to come here.”
He realized that he wanted to talk. He wanted to keep talking to Taylor. It felt like now he might be able to see through the heavy fog that had settled over his mind.
“We’re all just pretending, aren’t we?” Taylor asked. “When it comes right down to it, I mean. You’re trying to hide, like you always used to hide. You hid in plain sight. Everyone knew who you were, what you were capable of. Some people stayed out of your way. Those who didn’t weren’t in your way for long. You had the Bloods in your pocket…”
“What are we talking about?” Vincent stopped him. “I’m over here shoveling and then you come by and need to run your mouth. I didn’t come to you. You want something—don’t waste my time, or yours. Ain’t like we’re going to live forever.”
“I’m selfish, Hamilton. Just like you.”
“Yeah?”
“I want to know if you’re pretending to care. I don’t assume because I don’t know what goes in your head. We’re not going to try to empathize with each other, revisit the ghosts of all of the people we’ve lost. See everything that’s gone. We have people trying to talk this shit out right now, and we’ve got people who want
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