?Answer my question.?
?I have a good family. I work hard to provide for them. That?s why I don?t need this kind of shit.?
?You true to your vows??
?This is nuts.?
?I believe you?re a family man. I believe you planned to take out me and Hugo even if you had to eat a bullet. You?d eat a bullet for your family, wouldn?t you??
Nick felt he was being led into a trap, but he didn?t know how. Preacher saw the confusion in his face.
?That makes you a dangerous man,? Preacher said. ?You?ve put me in a bad spot. You shouldn?t have done that. You shouldn?t have patronized me, either.?
Nick, with his heart sinking, saw the driver?s eyes look at him in the rearview mirror. The tips of his fingers inched away from the outline of the .25 to the edge of his pocket. He glanced at Preacher?s right hand, partially inserted inside the folded newspaper. The paper was turned at an angle, pointed directly at Nick?s rib cage.
The SUV turned off the service road and passed through a break in a row of slash pines and thumped across a cattle guard onto farmland spiked with weeds and cedar fence posts that had no wire on them. Nick could see moonlight glowing on a pond, and beyond the pond, a darkened house with cattle standing in the yard. He folded his arms on his chest, burying his hands in his armpits to stop them from shaking. The driver, Bobby Lee, looked at Nick in the mirror again, a dent in each of his cheeks, as though he were sucking the saliva out of his mouth.
?I knew it?d come to this,? Nick said.
?I don?t follow you,? Preacher said.
?I knew one of you bastards would eventually blindside me. You?re all the same?black pukes from the Desire, Italian punks from Uptown. Now it?s an Irish psychopath who?s a hump for Hugo Cistranos. None of y?all got talent or brains of your own. Every one of you is a pack animal, always figuring out a way to steal what another man has worked for.?
?Do you believe this guy?? the driver said to Hugo.
?I don?t steal, Mr. Dolan,? Preacher said. ?But you do. You steal and market the innocence of young women. You create a venue that makes money off the lust of depraved men. You?re a festering sore in the eyes of God, did you know that, Mr. Dolan? For that matter, you?re an abomination in the eyes of your own race.?
?Judaism isn?t a race, it?s a religion. That?s what I?m talking about. All of you are ignorant. That?s your common denominator.?
Bobby Lee had already cut the headlights and was slowing to a stop by the pond. The open end of the newspaper in Preacher?s lap was still pointed at Nick?s side. Nick thought he was going to be sick. Hugo pulled open the back door and ran his hand along Nick?s legs. His face was so close that Nick could feel Hugo?s breath on his skin. Hugo slipped the .25 auto from Nick?s pocket and aimed it at the pond.
?This is a nice piece,? he said. He released the magazine and worked the slide. ?Afraid to carry one in the chamber, Nicholas??
?It wouldn?t have done me any good,? Nick said.
?Want to show him?? Hugo said to Preacher.
?Show me what?? Nick said.
Preacher tossed the newspaper to the floor and got out on the other side of the vehicle, pulling his crutches after him. The newspaper had fallen open on the floor. There was nothing inside it.
?Tough luck, Nicholas,? Hugo said. ?How?s it feel to lose to a guy holding a handful of nothing??
?Bobby Lee, open up the back. Hugo, give me his piece,? Preacher said.
?I can take care of this,? Hugo said.
?Like you did behind that church??
?Take it easy, Jack,? Hugo said.
?I said give me the piece.?
Nick could feel a wave of nausea permeate the entirety of his metabolism, as though he had been systemically poisoned and all his blood had settled in his stomach and every muscle in him had turned flaccid and pliant. For just a moment he saw himself through the eyes of his tormentors?a small, pitiful fat man whose skin had become as gray as cardboard and whose hair glowed with sweat, a little man whose corpulence gave off the vinegary stink of fear.
?Walk with me,? Preacher said.
?No,? Nick said.