I smile and nod, and she accepts the rope around her neck, the synching of the knot until it threatens to close her throat. A threat. A promise. A deal. She crawls across the floor behind me, the Tatianas watching the death of hope from their perch on the divan.

“He’s definitely dirty. And so is his gun.”

If the mirror hadn’t been broken already, I’d have broken it then. I reached up and touched the broken glass where it was splintered as if by a hammer’s blow.

Once the hope of the past is shattered, there can be no hope for the future. Once the future is gone, there is only tranquility.

“You’ll don that pretty gold dress you showed up here in that night, you’ll put those black patent leather heels on, and you’ll sing sweet lullabies to those stiffs until they’re eating out of your hand.” Spit flecked on my cheek, and his breath stank of cheap whisky and fish. One of his hands pawed absently at his crotch. “You’ll sing for your supper from now on, Golden Voice.”

There’s something to be said for being drunk all day. I couldn’t remember what it was; it didn’t matter. It was a truth without words. And what else is a suspended cop supposed to do when his life is shit, his job is on hold and his girlfriend is dead?

Yellow eyes are there, staring back at us. We know they’re there. They know we’re here. The wind moans. The shack trembles. Another howl in the quasi-dark. I sit up and listen, and I don’t sleep.

Did he know? Did he know that I’d seduced her? Did he know that I’d fucked her the first night, licking her cunt there behind the bar where she spent her nights pouring cheap vodka into shot glasses for Ivan’s crew of ex-Russia special forces and military — the scum he hired, brought over to terrorize everyone who stood against him? She’d cum again and again, and with each orgasm, her tongue had loosened, until she’d spilled everything she knew and even put her tongue to use in better ways.

What did she mean she was leaving? She was leaving. Why? She had to go. Had anything happened? Supposedly I knew why, and I could guess well enough, but there seemed to be more, something more that she was leaving out. Was she crying? Was she sad or happy to being going? Where was she going? Could I come with? Vague flashes of memory, like blurs of colors that I couldn’t see. My voice rising to match the steady beat of the DJ’s tunes. My hands hitting the table like I’d hit her face once before.

Two figures stepped out into the alley, shadows nearly swallowing them. They stood near each other, talking in low voices. It happened quickly, unexpectedly. A few words of conversation and bam…knife in, knife out. Let the body hit the floor.

I also never thought I’d end up here, slinging drinks and selling cigs to the absolute lowest lives of this half-town: I was going to be a star. My name is Goldi, after all. Oh, I know — you’ve heard the story, everyone has. But let me tell you something right now: life ain’t no fairy tale.

The thing about Red was that she had a big heart. She had big eyes, too — “the better to see you with,” she said, and everybody laughed. But nobody was ever looking at her eyes. That wasn’t the point. With tits like that, her eye color was never in question, if you know what I mean.