Serpents in the Cold Read Online Free Page B

momentarily shut and his lips pulled over his crooked teeth in pain.
    “We’re just collecting for Sully, Cal. You need to simmer down.”
    “Fuck you I will.”
    Shaw gave Cal’s eyes a good reading.
    “Just settle down, old friend,” he said, “we’re all good.” The redhead sucked his teeth one final time, raised his accountant hands in the air as a sign of surrender. “He said he’d get us by the end of the week, and we trust him. We’re like that. We take care of those from the Corner.”
    “How much is he in for this time?”
    “Not as much as the last time, but enough.”
    Cal lowered his gun and turned. The big Polish boxer was back on his feet, his right hand clutching his broken nose. A darkening welt grew from the side of his head.
    Dante rolled over, spit out a thick glob of blood and saliva.
    Shoulders hunched, head lowered, Ski ambled by Cal and mumbled several curse words in Polish, flung open the bathroom door, and disappeared into the darkness of the hallway. But Shaw hung at the door for a moment.
    “This is real stupid of you. Sully’s in a real shit mood lately, and the last thing he’s going to do is give that dirtbag another break.”
    “Just get the fuck out of here, Shaughnessy.”
    The door closed, and Cal reached down, grabbed Dante’s hand, and pulled him to his feet. “Jesus Christ,” he said, “pull up your fucking pants.” He turned on the faucet and helped him rinse his face. The white porcelain swam pink. After a while he turned the cold water off.
    Cal’s anger didn’t dissipate. When they entered the bar, he called out to the bartender, who suddenly appeared busy, wiping the bar down.
    “Next time I’ll do you before I do them, you prick.”
    The bartender stared after them, waited until Cal and Dante were halfway out the door before shouting after them, “Fuck you, O’Brien!”
    Outside, Cal grabbed at Dante’s coat front, buttoned up the neck, yanked up the collar, and helped him up the five concrete steps to the sidewalk.
    “Do you have your feet?” he asked.
    Dante nodded, and Cal let go of him.

5
    _________________________
    INSIDE JOE AND Nemo’s it was warm and bright. Sudden blasts of wind pushed against the plate glass windows of the diner, startling customers at their meals. Nemo’s brother was working the counter. He was a thin older man with wiry gray hair at his temples and a large swell of a belly, but his white pants and shirt looked immaculate. He might have been a banker if not for the location. No one liked him but he didn’t much care. It never affected business. He glanced up as Dante and Cal sat at a booth and then went back to the sports page.
    “Well, that was smart,” Dante said, wincing as he rubbed a hand across his lips. “Fucking up one of Sully’s men like that.”
    “You worry about yourself. I’m not the one owing money.”
    Dante avoided Cal’s eyes.
    “So what was it this time? Horses? Numbers?”
    “It doesn’t matter. I’ll pay them back.”
    “With what?”
    Dante shook his head, moved his hands to his pack of cigarettes, and pulled one out.
    Cal glanced over the menu. The room smelled of boiling hot dogs, coffee, bacon, and stale grease. He realized he was hungry after not having eaten a thing since late yesterday afternoon.
    “What are you having?”
    Dante lifted the water glass and drank. When he put it back on the table, blood sank darkly in the glass.
    “You need to eat something.”
    Dante pointed to his face and he grinned. “Does it look like I’m hungry?”
    “No, but you still need to eat."
    “Eggs, then. And Tabasco sauce, lots and lots of Tabasco sauce.”
    Cal stared over at the brother, stared at him till he lifted his eyes and made eye contact. “Can we get some coffee over here?” he called. The brother turned a page and went back to his reading.
    A waitress scurried by them and Cal reached out an arm and grasped her by the elbow. She looked at his hand and then down at him. “Sorry to