?You might say in my own way I have. But I don?t make claims for myself.?
?Pete was burned in his tank. But the real damage to him happened when he came back home and met you and the other criminals you work with.?
?Your friend is a fool or he wouldn?t be in this trouble. I don?t appreciate the coarseness of your remarks to me.?
Again she could feel a pool of heat building inside her head, as though the sun were burning through her skull, cooking her blood, pushing her out on the edges of a place she had never been. Her towel was starting to slip loose, and she gathered it more tightly around her, pressing its dampness against her skin with her arms.
?I?d like for you to go away with me. I?d like to make up for any harm I did to you. Don?t speak, just listen,? he said. ?I have money. I?m fairly well educated for a man without much formal schooling. I have manners, and I know how to care for a fine woman. I have a rented house on a mountaintop outside Guadalajara. You could have anything you want there. There would be no demands on you, sexual or otherwise.?
She thought she heard a train in the distance, the massive weight and power of the locomotive grinding dully on the track, the vibrations spreading through the hardpan like the steady tremors given off by an abscessed wisdom tooth.
?Give Pete back to me. Don?t hurt him,? she said.
?What will you give me in turn??
?Take my life.?
?Why would I want to do that??
?I put two bullets in you.?
?You don?t know me very well.?
?You know why you?re here. Go ahead and do it. I won?t resist you. Just leave Pete alone.? Her eyes seemed to go in and out of focus, the room shimmering, a dark liquid swelling up from her stomach into her throat.
?You offend me.?
?Your thoughts are an offense, and you don?t hide them well.?
?What thoughts? What are you talking about?? The skin under his left eye wrinkled, like putty drying up.
?The thoughts you don?t want to admit are yours. The secret desires you mask with your cruelty. You make me think of diseased tissue with insects crawling on it. Your glands are filled with rut, but you pretend to be a gentleman wishing to care for and protect a woman. It?s embarrassing to look at the starvation in your face.?
?Starvation? For a woman who insults me? Who thinks she can tongue-lash me after I saved her from a man like Hugo Cistranos? That?s right, Hugo plans to kill you and your boyfriend. You want me to hit the speed dial on my cell phone? I can introduce your friend to an experience neither of you can imagine.?
?I need to get dressed. I don?t want you to watch me.?
?Dressed to go where??
?Out. Away from you.?
?You think you?re controlling the events that are about to happen around you? Are you that naive??
?My clothes are in the dresser. I?m going to take them into the bathroom and dress. Don?t come in there. Don?t look at me while I?m removing my clothes from the drawer, either. After I?m dressed, I?ll be going somewhere. I?m not sure where. But it won?t be with you. Maybe I?ll end here, in this room, in this dirty room, in this godforsaken place on the edge of hell. But you won?t be a part of it, you piece of shit.?
His facial expression seemed divided in half, as though his motor controls were shutting down and the muscles on one side of his face were collapsing. His right hand trembled. ?You have no right to say these things.?
?Kill me or get out. I can?t stand being around you.?
He stooped over and picked up the blue-black white-handled derringer from the carpet. He was breathing raggedly through his nose, his eyes small and hot under his brow. He approached her slowly, his white shirt catching the pink glow of the neon outside the window, giving his face a rosy hue it didn?t possess on its own. He stood in front of her, his stomach flat behind his shirt and his tightly notched belt, an odor of dried perspiration wafting from his suit. ?Say that last part again.?
?I hate being in the presence of a man like you. You?re what every woman dreads. Your physical touch causes nausea.?
He lifted the barrel of the derringer to her mouth. Through the wall, she could hear the electronic laughter from the neighbor?s television set. She could hear the locomotive pulling a mile-long string of gondolas and boxcars between the hills, the reverberations shaking the foundation of the motel. She could hear Preacher?s dry exhalations just above her forehead. He put his left hand under her chin and lifted her line of vision to his. When she tried to turn away, he pinched her jaws and jerked her head straight. ?Look into my eyes.?
?No.?
?You?re afraid??