Page 115 of Start With A Slap

“You don’t have to.” Phone at his ear, he muttered, “Just gotta find out what fleabag she’s inhabiting this week, and we’ll be on our merry way.”

It took Ivy a moment to register his intent. “Wait. What are you doing?”

“Proving to you that I’m not a murderer.”

CHAPTER 33

Alive

Roxie wasalive.

Ivy was still processing this when the car stopped outside of a bleak two-story motel that promised COLOR TV and WEEKLY RATES — or RAPES, according to the graffiti.

Roxie was alive... and livedhere?

Sever touched the intercom to tell his driver to stay, then left the car.

Ivy took a long, shaky breath. A rush of cold air hit her side and she peered at Sever’s gloved, open hand, not sure she wanted to go where it was about to take her.

Somewhere nearby, a television set blared a manic game show:Jackpot round ka na ba! Are you ready?

Ivy wasn’t ready, not even a little bit, but she took his hand anyway.

A stocky tattooed man answered the door. Taking one look at Ivy, he said, hand on heart, “Oh, shit, is it show and tell day? And me without my GI Joes.”

Sever was unmoved. “Is she conscious?”

“For now. Ten minutes to morphine paradise.”

“Good. Show me your arms.”

“My... You serious?”

“Show me your arms, Ernesto.”

With a scoff, Ernesto upturned his palms, but all Ivy saw on his brawny arms was the Virgin Mary, Jesus and a haloed portrait of his mother, RIP. “You know I never touch that garbage. I’m a nurse, man. A good one.”

“So was the last guy.”

Ernesto grudgingly stepped aside. “She won’t be happy to see your friend.”

“I’m not here to make her happy.”

Slowly, Ivy ventured in after Sever.

“Fuck ME I’m a sexy bitch GENIUS,” she heard Roxie say, then saw the chaotic mural she was furiously scribbling. Kneeling on an unmade bed, clad in loose sweats, surrounded by crayons, she colored the wall and muttered nonsense. “And we all have so much FUN together us four I need more red. Where’s the red. That’s maroon not red you jackass. Black and red. Opening up to the sky like a goddamn Cadillac on fire. Ha! I need red. Where’s the red. Where’s thefucking?—”

“Rox, we got company.”

She whipped around, and Ivy reeled.

The ghost of Roxie scowled at them from behind an emaciated, pockmarked death mask. “Who thefuckare you?”

“Come on, Roxie,” Ernesto said casually, sitting in a chair and looking at his phone, “you remember Sever. He drove all the way out here to say hello.”

She squinted at Sever, but showed no sign of recognition. “You wanna fuck me, Richie Rich? That whatcha want? Fifty bucks.”

Oh. Wow.Ivy saw Sever straighten and let it go, as if he’d been expecting it.

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