What's new with you, anyway?" Evan asked as they headed back to the gym, where the band would play as part of the homecoming festivities. "Well . . . okay, I'll tell you but if you laugh I'm going to smack you." Evan raised an eyebrow. "What, did you try to rob a bank or something?" "Oh, funny. No. I'm going out with someone." "Really? Well, hey, that's cool. I mean, not that I need to think about my sister dating anyone, but okay. Who is it? Anybody I know?" Evan grinned. "Is it some musician with dreadlocks and tattoos that will give Dad a heart attack?" Ryan laughed. "No, no musicians. He might have a tattoo, I guess; I haven't asked. Anyway, believe it or not, a hockey player. Brody Lang. From the Capitals." Evan stopped and stared at her. "Seriously?" "Yes." She smacked his arm. "Why would I make something like that up?" "I just know how you are about the whole athlete thing. I mean, geez, if I wasn't your brother, you'd probably never talk to me." He laughed as he dodged. I took the leader's purse before he was pulled to the stairway, leaving a trail of blood and brains behind him. When the bodies was gathered, I asked the man who had poked his pistol in my back if he would take care of them or if he would rather join them. He begged me not to kill him, and I urged him to tell the truth about what had happened. He promised and left on foot, thanking me over and over.With the tavern woman's help, the girl had found a clean dress in her belongings, a plain brown one without decoration except for its fancy buttons which marched resolutely between her pointed mounds and down her luscious body. She had pulled her hair back and tied it with a ribbon and now sat where we had eaten, waiting, looking very pale, eyes red-rimmed, lips a thin line.I sat across from her, took a deep breath, felt my rigid prod begin to relax, and smiled at her."How could you do that?" she asked very quietly.I exhaled. "My job." You could have, maybe, made them stop, I mean, without.
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