Lia nodded and silently gathered up her belongings from the bathroom and shoved them all into the overnight bag she’d brought with her the night before. I asked the motel guy where I could get a cab, and he directed me to a convenience store a few blocks away. I bought a pack of cigarettes while Lia gave me a bit of a look.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she said.
“Don’t give me that shit.”
“In light of everything else, I’ve decided not to complain about your smoking,” Lia informed me.
“I don’t usually do it.”
“You’ve had a cigarette in your hand pretty much the whole time since the last time you made that statement.”
“I’m trying to remember what it’s like.” I gave her a goofy smile, and she shook her head again.
Lia was quiet while I smoked, glared at the gang-bangers as they went in and out of the store for cheap liquor, and waited for the cab to show up.
“I was thinking I might retire,” I said.
“What does that mean?” Lia asked.
“You know—like you were saying before. You asked what we were going to do after all this. When I was in jail, I thought maybe…well, maybe I’d just see if you wanted to...um….”
Shit, I sounded like a fucking idiot.
“I was thinking maybe you and I could leave Chicago, you know—together. Go someplace where no one is likely to try to track me down. I have to take care of all this other shit first because Trent will definitely be on my ass until it’s done, but afterwards, we could just leave. I’ve got plenty of money to get us by for a while.”
“What? Someplace like that cabin where I first met you?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“And do what?”
I gave her a half smile and a raised eyebrow.
“Alternate between taking you up against a wall and taking you from behind. We could throw in a few other variations, of course. Those are just my top picks.”
She didn’t seem amused.
“I’ve missed a whole year of school tracking you down,” she said. “I still have two years left before I get my degree.”
I was struck again with how little I knew about her. I hadn’t even been aware she was in school.
“What are you studying?” I asked.
“Nursing,” Lia replied tersely. “Don’t change the subject.”
There was a sudden burst of a memory from a couple Christmases ago when Rinaldo’s wife got ticked off at him for sneaking cookies from a tray she was preparing. She had shaken her finger at him as she yelled, and all his attempts at diverting the topic had been unsuccessful.
I smiled.
“Is this funny?” Lia snapped.
“No,” I said, but I couldn’t stop the grin on my face. “Would you hit me if I said you were beautiful when you’re angry?”
“Maybe.”
“I won’t say it, then.”