SHE CLIMBED FROM THE car and went staggering across the slanted concrete floor in her high heels. She looked back and saw his silhouette through the rear window. Had he really meant to kill her? For some reason, she didn’t quite believe it. Even with a gun in his hand, he still seemed like a lonely frightened boy. She switched the heavy briefcase from her right hand to her left as she rounded a corner and headed down the ramp to the fourth floor.

A black Acura roared by, narrowly missing her. She heard the echo of the young men inside laughing as they raced downstairs. But she no longer cared. She had money in her hand and the city lights still blazing below.

Again, in spite of everything, she’d survived.

WHAT CAN I SAY? It was a night for long shots coming in. She was somebody’s mother, for crying out loud. I couldn’t kill her.

I just sat in the front seat for a few minutes, overlooking the lip of the garage. Down below, traffic was slithering out of town slowly like a long electronic snake. If I’d had any kind of mind, I would’ve followed it. But I had accounts to settle and debts to pay, and I wanted to see my wife and kids. I’d done wrong by them for so long that I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.

I decided my first stop would be Vin’s house. I’d give him the money I had and tell him to divide it up between Carla and her uncle. I had it all worked out. The eventual pay-per-view receipts would go to my kids. But when I drove over and rang Vin’s door, there was no answer. I should’ve been glad to leave it at that, but after our talk on the Boardwalk the other day, I felt like there were things I wanted to say to him.

I drove over to the stash house, hoping I might find him there. As I went up the stairs, I noticed I still had blurred vision and the ringing in my ears. This was what they meant by somebody punching you into next week. My eye sockets were sore and my skull felt swollen.

I was so tired I could barely get the keys out of my pocket. The place was quiet as a tomb inside. I tripped once and fell into something wet and sticky on the floor. I got up and turned on the light. There was a smell of beer in there and another odor harder to identify. Paraffin, maybe, but mixed in with something much worse. My eyes began to adjust. I looked down and saw dried lumps of blue and red at the foot of the black leather sofa. Not huge lumps, but little bits with what looked like gray hairs mixed in between. Somebody had made a small effort to clean up the mess, before shoving the couch over most of it.

It took me a good minute to realize I was looking at part of someone’s brain.

My stomach heaved its contents up toward the top of my throat and I started to gag.

They must have whacked a guy in here earlier tonight. I had to get out quick before someone called the police. I tried to remember if I’d left fingerprints anywhere. The stainless steel lamp. I needed something to wipe it with. I looked around for a cloth or a rag, but all I saw were untaxed liquor bottles on the bar and racks of men’s clothing along the wall. I started to step over the bloody mess to get some toilet paper out of the bathroom.

But then I looked down and saw something that made my heart literally stop.

A long, brown Ace comb at the edge of the spill. Five or six greasy hairs were still caught in its teeth. It was Vin’s, no doubt about it. All the circuits in my head blew out and I felt the floorboards giving way underneath me.

The thought of Vin dead didn’t make sense. It was like a green sky or blue apples. I sat down at the edge of the couch and buried my face in my hands. All my life I’d only been sure of one thing: that he was this indomitable force that would always be there for me. If he was gone, nothing added up.

I started to cry, thinking back on that last talk we’d had on the Boardwalk. What had I said to him? Had I thanked him for bringing me up? Had I told him I loved him? What had he said to me? I looked down at the carpet, trying to remember and hold a picture of him in my mind. But instead I got a thousand little things. I could see him walking me through the schoolyard. Teaching me how to play boccie. Telling me I had to be a man among men.

There was no question that Teddy was the one who’d done this to him. And the reason probably had something to do with Vin standing up for me. That was the train running underneath our last conversation. Vin had been a loyalist all his life, and that was how he ended it. So now it was clear what I had to do.

I stood up, making sure I still had bullets in my gun. I stepped on an almond shell and noticed the cable box on top of the television was set to Channel 38, the pay-per-view station. They must have been watching the fight when they killed Vin. Just two hours ago, I’d been ringside, thinking my life was about to change. But pride and ambition were no match for seven hundred years of tradition and the lessons Vin had drummed into me. If you’re brought up a certain way, you can spend your whole life denying it, but eventually some part of it’s going to come out.

I went downstairs and got back in my car. Half of me was fighting it and asking myself: Why me, why now? Had I come all this way and done all these things just to fall back into the cycle? But in another part of my mind, I was calm and accepting of what had to be done. It had all been decided a long time ago, anyway.

I drove slowly through the side streets, avoiding the main thoroughfares that were still jammed with people leaving the casinos. All the houses seemed to be low, gray, and falling apart. No matter how much I’d struggled and hustled, it seemed I hadn’t really gone anywhere. Every turn brought me back to Florida Avenue, or Georgia Avenue, or one of these other ugly little blocks.

Since my house was on the way to Teddy’s, I made up my mind to stop there first to give Carla the rest of the money and see my kids one last time.

I reached Texas Avenue just before two in the morning and cruised around the block once to make sure there