I have to admit, I’m nervous as hell the next morning.

I keep seeing Henry’s beat-up face every time I close my eyes. His eye is black and blue and his nose is slightly off-center. I think it’s broken, but he refuses to go to the hospital. I just want to make sure that he’s okay, but he’s completely focused on this job.

I don’t know what this guy Tom is going to do. I can’t picture him coming into the hotel and shooting the place up, because nobody can get away with that sort of thing. But maybe it’s not beyond him and the Strips. At least Claude and Jean will be here this time. They’re already down, plotting how they’re going to make this safe. When Henry told Claude what we’re doing, Claude said something in French and shook his head, walking away without another word.

“You’re going to be front and center,” Henry says to me as I look into the mirror. “Don’t back down. Don’t be afraid. We’ll be there.”

I look over my shoulder at him and take a deep breath. He smiles at me, though I know he’s still in pain from last night.

“I’m not really worried about that,” I admit to him. “I’m more worried about you.”

He smiles and comes up behind me. “You think this is going to stop me?”

“No,” I say.

“No,” he repeats. “So I got beat up, big deal. I’m alive and we’re moving forward.”

“Yeah.” I turn around and kiss him tenderly, aware of the bruises. “We’ll be fine.”

“Of course. We have the best guards money can buy. And besides, Bill might come running out with a wrench again.”

I smile at that. I can’t imagine him getting violent. “How do you think he’s feeling?”

“Awful,” Henry says. “And he fucking better. He messed up.”

“I know, but—“

“No, he put us all in danger. I won’t work with him ever again.”

I stare at him, surprised. “I thought you liked him.”

“I do. Which is why I’m not going to get him fired and kicked out of this industry entirely.” He shakes his head. “He put us all at risk. I can’t be around a guy like that anymore.”

“Okay,” I say to him. I can’t picture what this would be like without Bill, but the drinking is bad, and he did mess up. Henry’s been doing this longer than I have, and I trust his judgment.

“Come on,” Henry says. “You’re ready. Let’s get down there.”

I glance at the clock. It’s nine in the morning and the guys are already setting up in the lobby. We got special permission to film, as long as we give the hotel chain a shout-out.

“Think they’ll show?” I ask him.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I don’t know why, but I do.”

We head out into the hallway, a bag slung over Henry’s shoulder with his laptop and other gear inside it. My nerves are growing with every step, but I know this last scene is important.

We get into the elevator and Henry leans up against me. “You sure about this?” he asks me. “We can turn back now. It’s not too late.”

I give him a look. “You know I can’t.”

“Yeah.” He grins at me. “I know. It’s what I love about you.”

My eyes go wide, surprised as hell, but I don’t get a chance to say anything. The door opens and standing on either side are Claude and Jean.

They look a little grim, but that’s not unusual. “Everything okay?”

Claude’s frown deepens. “They’re here already.”

We stop and I crane my neck down the hall. I can’t see anyone.

“They’re early?” Henry asks.

“That’s right. Just the old woman and that boy.”

Henry takes a deep breath. “Okay then. Let’s go do this.” He smiles at me, squeezes my hand, and then we head into the lobby.

My heart’s beating fast but I keep myself under control. The crew’s finished setting things up already. Sitting in one of the two chairs is Tom, looking around nervously, scowling the whole time. As soon as we step into the room, his expression darkens.

Pat comes walking up to us immediately. “I’m so glad you’re letting him do this,” she says to Henry, and then stops. “Jesus. You look awful.”

“Yeah, well.” He glances over at Tom. “You can blame him.”

She shakes her head. “He’s not really an awful person. He just… got sucked in.”

“Let him tell it,” Henry says. We walk past Pat and toward Tom.

He watches as we approach. Claude and Jean are nearby, though not too close. The whole place is tense as hell, even the staff behind the front desk seem worried. Henry stops a few feet in front of Tom.

“You look like shit,” Tom says.

Henry grins at him. “That’s what happens when you get jumped.”

He nods. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m not. I’m glad you’re here.”

He looks a little surprised. “Ah, you are?”

“Very happy,” I say, stepping forward. “I’m Vivian. I’ll be doing the interview.”

“Hi,” he says to me as we shake hands. I can tell he feels awkward, but Henry blends back behind the scenes as I sit down and get myself ready.

Miller clips a mic onto my shirt and I thank him. Once he’s done, the lights start up and I smile at Tom.

“Don’t feel nervous,” I say to him. “I’m just going to ask you about yourself.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Sure, whatever. I’m only here because… well, you know.”

“We’ll talk all about it in a moment.” I look over at Henry. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he says. “Roll cameras. Let’s do this.”

I turn back to Tom, heart in my chest. He’s wearing a wife-beater, tattoos peeking out across his chest. He’s skinny and he looks younger than the last time I saw him. I think he’s maybe seventeen at most.

“Tom, first, thanks for doing this. I know it’s not easy.”

“Yeah, uh, sure.”

“Can you tell me a little bit about why you agreed to meet with us?”

He glances toward Pat and then looks back at me. For a second, I don’t think he’s going to talk. I’m afraid he’s going to clam up and waste all our time, make Henry’s beating all for nothing.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he launches into the story of how he first got involved with the Strips. He was thirteen and his father was an addict. His mom needed money for groceries, because she just got laid off from her job as a waitress. Some kids on his block said he could make cash selling, and that’s how it all started for him.

“The kid’s name was Seamus,” he says. “Scottish, but he didn’t look Scottish. We were good friends, up until he died.”

“When did he die?” I ask him.

“Last night.”

“How did it happen?”

“Drugs,” he says. “Like everyone else in this town.”

“Is that why you attacked Henry?” I ask him softly.

“Yeah,” he admits, looking away. “We were angry about what happened and then Seamus died and we just… we went looking for trouble. Found it pretty easy.”

I ask him more about his life as a gangster. I ask him about how he gets away with selling, how many guys are in the gang, who runs the whole thing. I ask him detailed, specific questions, the sort of stuff most people never answer.

But Tom talks. He keeps talking and talking. He tells me about the shipments from Mexico, or at least he thinks they’re from Mexico. He tells me about the cheap pills they’re getting, knockoff stuff made in quasi-legal labs down south.

“It’s part of why people die from the shit,” he says. “They think they’re getting one thing, but it’s something else. Bigger dose, more concentrated, that sort of shit.”

I can hardly believe it. This is the sort of information people would kill to have. It’s always been something of a mystery, where all this fentanyl is coming from. People assume it’s from crooked doctors writing bad prescriptions for addicts, but clearly that can’t be the only source. It makes sense that it’s been manufactured somewhere and brought up into the United States.

That also partially explains why so many people are dying.

“It’s the heroin too,” Tom says. “Opioids and pharmaceuticals are expensive as shit. Eventually it’s just cheaper to get heroin. Same high, same deal, just a lot cheaper.”

“So why do fentanyl at all then, if it’s so expensive?”

He shrugs a bit. “Heroin is harder to dose and take. People don’t like needles. They’d rather cut some strips off a fentanyl patch and put it under their tongue. It’s easier. Makes them feel like less of a junky.”

He talks about the hierarchy of the Strips and where he fits into it all. He’s at the bottom of the bottom, just a regular street pusher. The guys that roll with him are friends, but they don’t know he’s doing this.

“Nobody knows,” he says to me.

“Are you in danger, talking to us?”

He laughs at that. “Fuck, yes,” he says. “I’m in a ton of danger. I’m gonna leave town as soon as we’re through.”

I glance at Henry but he just nods. “Where will you go?”

“Can’t say,” he answers. “Somewhere far from this hellhole. Pat’s coming with me.”

I look over at her and she smiles, shrugs.

“That’s good,” I say to him. “You’re getting out.”

“Look, I don’t want to be in this. I had no other choice. I was afraid. I’m still afraid. I don’t want to live this way forever.”

I can see it, the vulnerable kid hiding behind the hard ganger façade. I can almost forgive him, if he hadn’t hurt Henry so badly. Still, I need him, and I’m not about to go after him and ruin this interview.

So I push him harder, get him talking some more. He gives us names, locations, sums of money. The Strips are pulling in a lot of cash, but apparently it’s mostly wasted on stuff like expensive cars and jewelry. The top guys take home the most and the rest is spread out through everyone else.

“Doesn’t sound very fair,” I say to him.

“Nothing’s fucking fair, lady,” he responds. “Never fucking is.”

We finish the interview not long later. I realize we’ve been talking for a couple of hours. Time flew past, once I got over my initial nervousness. I can’t believe how much he told us and in how much detail, and I’m absolutely positive that this was the right thing to do.

When we’re done, I stand up and the guys immediately start breaking everything down.

“When will you leave?” I ask Pat as she walks over.

“Right now,” she says. “I got an RV packed with stuff. Relatives will sell the house. We’re getting out.”

“Thanks for all your help,” I say to her. “Sincerely.

“I’m sorry about him,” Pat says, glancing at Henry. “Never meant for anyone to get hurt.”

“It’s okay. I think he’ll survive.”

She nods and turns to Tom. “You ready?”

“Ready.” He looks at me. “Sorry too. About him.”

“Thanks for talking. You did something brave.”

“Will… you think it’ll make a difference?”

“Yes,” I say sincerely. “I think it really will.”

He nods, looking pleased, and the two of them leave the lobby. I watch as they go, and I can’t help but wonder if they’ll be okay.

Henry comes up beside me. “You did good,” he says softly. “Got the kid talking.”

“Didn’t take much. I think he planned on burning bridges.”

“We got a lot, though. A lot of really good stuff.”

“Was it worth it?” I ask him, looking up into his eyes, cringing at the sight of his bruises.

“Sure was.” He grins at me.

We spend the next half hour breaking everything down and packing the van. We thank the hotel manager for letting us use his lobby. He tells us to stop by whenever we want, though I have no plans to ever come back to Sellersville again.

“This is it,” Henry says to Claude and Jean. “Are you guys all set up?”

Claude nods. “We’re all paid, don’t worry.”

“Good.” Henry shakes their hands. “Thanks for keeping us safe.”

“As safe as we could,” Jean says. “Sorry about your face.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the price of doing business.” Henry grins and the two brothers laugh. They wave as they walk away.

I’m left standing in the lobby next to Henry. The crew’s outside, finishing up packing the van. Next stop is the airport.

“Think we can make this thing work?” I ask him.

“I’m positive we can,” he says. “We just have some long nights ahead of us.”

“At least we won’t be in this hotel anymore,” I say to him. I remember what he said, back in the elevator, and my heart flutters in my chest.

“You think you can handle it?” he asks me. “The long nights, I mean.”

“I think I can take it.”

He grins and steps toward me. “I know you can.” He takes my chin and kisses me full and deep, right there in the lobby.

I kiss him back. I don’t really care if anyone sees what we’re doing. Let them, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m realizing more and more how real this is, what I have with Henry. It’s consuming and encompassing and I wouldn’t want it any other way. I can feel myself falling into his orbit and I know I won’t escape.

I don’t want to. Not if I can help it anyway. He makes me feel better than I ever thought I would, better than I thought I had any right to feel. The past is gone and buried, and there’s only the two of us left standing, stronger than ever. I feel like the shifting sands under my feet are gone, replaced by concrete.

I could stay here forever, holding Henry and letting him kiss me. But we do need to leave. Tom talked to us, sure, but the rest of the Strips are still gunning for us. I know we’ll be safe as soon as we leave Sellersville, though part of me already feels safe in Henry’s arms.

“Come on,” he says finally. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Yes, please,” I say, laughing. “It’s been fun, but I don’t think I’ll be visiting Alabama again for a long time.”

“Don’t be so sure.” He grins at me. “You’ll be chasing some new story across this state in no time.”

“You’re right. I can’t help myself.”

He kisses me again, takes my hand, and we walk out of that lobby together. I don’t look back, because I have no reason to look back anymore.

The best is yet to come, because I have Henry by my side.