What You See Isn't Always What You Get by Faith Ashlin

He was a midlevel opportunist crook, all too familiar in the chaos of the changing world order. Paxman grinned, his rotten teeth showing, trying to act bigger and more dangerous than he was. It seemed the likely source of the smell. Paxman was sitting opposite the door in a faded green armchair with half its stuffing missing. It was rank and sour, the stench of old piss and even older misery. They nodded at him, backing away almost deferentially, and waited for him to pass inside. It was opened almost immediately by two men nearly as slimy and filthy as the building. He rolled his shoulders, set his face in a hard scowl, and tapped lightly on the door. If this was where the guy had ended up, with the kind of people who were inside, then he was doing him a real favor. He’d be doing a good deed for everyone if he torched the place and watched it burn. It was the sleaziest part of town, full of drunks and addicts, crime and hookers. At least the kid would be a bit better off and that had to be a good thing. If he said no then fair enough, Richard would walk away. He’d give whoever it was a choice-make him an offer, like they said in the movies. He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly and carefully. “Fucking, fucking… Fuck,” he finished lamely, hand still in place. That didn’t make it right, though, and Grady would have shot him down in flames in a second. Yeah, that was how he should think of it. At least if he did it like this he would be giving someone a chance, setting him up for a decent life.

Only then he’d be back up shit creek with no sensible alternative, no way of making this better, no way of keeping it secret. What he was doing went against everything he and Grady had been working for, fighting for. Last chance to change his mind and walk away. Last chance, Richard thought, hand on the dirty, flaking door.

What You See Isn't Always What You Get by Faith Ashlin