Page 78 of Remorseless

Bert raised his gun.

Marion braced himself for the impact of the bullet. Instead, a hole opened in the center of Bert’s head. He stood a moment, then dropped to the floor. Still holding his gun, Joe walked to Bert, a little steadier on his feet.

Intrigued, Marion tipped forward. Joe fired three more times, once in each cheek, and the third to Bert’s chin.

Joe lifted a remorseless blue gaze to Marion. “Can you fix up Osti?”

Marion nodded. “I’m indebted to you.”

“Nonsense.” Sharper reached Marion and shoved the cash in his top pocket. “We’re indebted to you.”

“This motherfucker belongs to Red Rum,” Joe grunted.

“If you fix up Osti, I’ll make a call and clear the matter up for you…?”

“Father Wilkins.”

Act Two

Tidings – Freya

One day, Freya would have blue hair like her mommy. She’d have pretty clothes and a daddy like all her friends.

A daddy who loved her. Mommie always told her that Daddy was a great prince who flew on dragons and lived in a castle far away.

Pursing her lips, Freya glanced at the baby dragon. This morning, after awakening Mommie, she’d run to the living room, straight to the Christmas tree. Cactus, elves, dragons, and birthday cakes decorated the fake cactus. Not only was today Christmas, but Freya’s birthday.

As she listened to her mommy weave stories about a man Freya didn’t remember, her eight-year-old braintried to understand what she’d done wrong for him not to visit.

“I asked Santa and the Birthday Fairy to let Daddy visit me. I’ve been an extra good girl.”

Mommy hugged her. “You’re always a good girl.” She smelled like sunshine, even though she wore a pink shirt with a black heart on the pocket and a darker pink skirt.

“Then why hasn’t he visited me? I want a daddy like my friends.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she said gently. “Willie means well.”

“I do,” a voice said.

Freya and Mommie gasped and glanced toward the door. An overweight man with puffy cheeks stood in the doorway, wearing a long black dress.

“Marion?”

He stiffened. He wasn’t tall and he wore glasses like Freya.

“Sorry, Willie,” Mommie mumbled.

“I’m not Marion. I’m Mike—”

“Marion’s a girl’s name,” Freya said with a giggle, over her shock.

He turned his attention to her. “Hello, Freya.”

She waved. “Hello.”

“Do you remember me?”

Freya shook her head.