“Could take us years.”
“Could do, but you’ll never forget. I know what you’re like, all of you. Y’all won’t give up. You’ll track him to the ends of the earth if you gotta. But let’s be honest here, Michael. You killed his woman and his mongrel baby in one fell swoop. You really think he ain’t gonna try to come back here? Right now, he’s lying low, healing up, but you gotta believe he’s gonna return eventually, try some shit.”
“That’s true.”
“So it’s unlikely that, in time, you’re gonna have to look all that hard.”
Michael smiles at her. “We’ll just let him come to us.”
“Exactly. Just always be ready for him.”
“Hell, you know me,” he says, leaning down to kiss her. “I’m always ready.”
6
Peter doesn’t go straight home. He goes to see Steve.
There’s a reason Peter is known as Terminator and his brother is known as Skinny. Even before Peter started pumping steroids into himself, he’d always had the better genetics. Taller and broader, he’s almost twice the size of Steve. He’s more committed to the cause, too. Steve is in the life, sure, but he’s never really been a part of it. Peter knows it, and he knows the others know it, too. Steve commits only half-heartedly. If it weren’t for Peter keeping him in line, keeping him in the ranks, he’d have tried to get out years ago.
Steve is at home. He always is. Doesn’t look too surprised to see his brother when he answers the door. “Hey,” he says. “You need somethin’?”
“I was nearby,” Peter says. “Just thought I’d stop in, see how you’re doin’.”
Steve’s eyes narrow at this. “Somethin’ up?”
“I need a reason?”
“I guess not, but you usually show up with one.”
“You gonna invite me in, or leave me standing out here in the cold?”
Steve steps aside, opens the door wider. “It’s hardly cold,” he says. He walks through the house, heads to the back where his bedroom is. Peter follows. Steve spends most of his time in his room. On his computer. Video games and message boards – this is his life. When Peter reaches the door, sees that Steve has settled back down into his computer chair, he can’t help but roll his eyes. Steve resumes his paused computer game, as if his older brother weren’t here.
“You can’t leave that alone for five minutes?” Peter says.
“I can,” Steve says. “If you ask me to.”
“I’m asking you.”
Steve keeps playing. Blasts a few more space aliens; then he hits pause. He swivels the chair around so he can see Peter, lets his hands dangle down into his lap.
Peter looks him over. Everything about him lives up to his nickname. His arms and legs are like sticks. His stomach is concave. Peter is pretty sure he could wrap one hand all the way around his neck.
“Well?” Steve says.
“Oughtta get you out to the gym with me,” Peter says.
“That it?” Steve sounds exasperated. “You came here, get me to pause my game, all so you can tell me somethin’ you’ve told me a million times before.”
“That ain’t why I came out here,” Peter says. He’s trying to be casual, though he knows he carries an air of menace with him no matter how he is trying to act. It has been commented on many times by many people – friends, girlfriends, family. “I’m just making a little conversation first is all, see how you are.”
“As you can see, I’m fine and dandy.”
“You look pale and sickly.”
“Don’t feel it. That’s just how you see the world, Pete, ’cause the rest of us don’t always look like you.”
“You gonna leave the house at all today, or are you just gonna sit in here and play your little video games?”
Steve shrugs. “Ain’t decided yet. I might need to pick up some groceries, so I might go out to get them later. As far as anything else goes, no, I ain’t got any plans. Besides, you need me here. For my frequent customers. They need me here, too. They’re probably gonna start showing up any minute now – you should stick around, check a couple of them out. Then you’ll see what pale and sickly really looks like.”
“I ain’t gonna wait around to check out any junkies.”
Steve laughs. “That’s a sight of weakness you just can’t tolerate.”
Peter feels his lip curling. Steve is the only person who can get away with talking to him like this. Anyone else would have been warned by now. Anyone pisses him off too much, they swiftly get a punch in the face. Not too many people piss him off, and certainly not on purpose.
“Listen, I’m here to talk about Anthony,” Peter says, getting to the point.
The humor goes out of Steve’s face. He runs his tongue around the inside of his mouth, over his teeth, causing his lips to bulge. “What about him?”
“You were close with him, weren’t you? He spent most of his time here, with you, dealing.”
“So? That was the job you and the rest of the council gave him. It wasn’t my decision.”
“But you spent a lot of time with him. You probably talked a lot, found stuff in common, had private jokes, all that kinda shit.”
Steve shrugs, repeats, “So?”
“You consider him a friend?”
Steve runs his tongue over his teeth again, stares off to the side. Peter is pleased by the expression on his face – it doesn’t look happy. It looks pissed off. Betrayed. “I guess I did. But now he’s just another race traitor.”
Peter nods, but tries not to let his satisfaction show too much. “He’s still alive.”
“I know. I heard.”
“You know how he’s still alive?”
“Cops showed up before y’all could finish the job.”
“Word’s spread.”
“It’s a big story.”
“But how’d the cops know where to
