The survivor

Twenty-Two

Courtney sat opposite Raine and Que in a small secluded booth. It faced the front door, which led directly into the north lane of Kingsway. An unusual entrance anywhere else, but it seemed to make sense with this restaurant, the Golden Lotus. Everything about the place felt secluded and secretive. No sign lit up the parking lot, telling the world the restaurant even existed; the iron-barred windows were blocked from view by dark green hanging drapes, and there were no printed menus. Que had ordered everything for them in Cantonese.

When the food came, Courtney had to admit he’d done well.

Raine pushed a plate of pan-fried prawns towards Courtney. They smelled of garlic and green onions. ‘You got to try one of these, Court, serious. They’re to die for.’

She took one and broke off the tail. Put the meat in her mouth. It tasted strongly of chilli pepper and something sweet.

‘Isn’t that just so damn good?’ Raine said again. ‘I could eat, like, the whole plate myself. Serious. The whole plate.’ She plucked up another one and stuffed it into Que’s mouth. He let her, not really looking at either of the girls but keeping his eyes on the doorway.

It had been like that the entire meal, and it was making Courtney nervous.

No one would ever have accused Que Wong of being a social butterfly, but he had barely said two words since they’d gotten there. Hell, he’d said more to the waiter when ordering their food. And as for the food, he’d hardly touched a thing, instead choosing to sip from the bottle of Wiser’s Deluxe he had ordered with the meal. He just sat there, sipping whisky, waiting and looking out the front window. He chewed the prawn mechanically, then caught Courtney’s stare.

‘Want more?’ he asked.

She shook her head.

‘Then what is it?’

‘You’re sweating.’

He tilted his eyes up, as if he could somehow see the beads of perspiration dampening his brow, and grabbed a napkin. After wiping his forehead, he muttered something about the restaurant being hot.

But the restaurant wasn’t hot. If anything, it was cold. So cold that Courtney had put on her jacket. She looked to Raine for a response.

But Raine was smelling the glass of whisky Que had poured for her and wincing. She caught Courtney’s stare and giggled. When Courtney didn’t respond, she gave her a look that said, What now?

Courtney said nothing. She looked outside to where Que had been staring all meal long, and saw the growing darkness of the sky. A quick glance at her watch told Courtney it was now half past four, and she let out a surprised sound. In an hour, Dad would be finishing up his shift in Homicide. An hour after that, he’d be home. And given the fact he knew she’d been skipping, he was gonna be in one hell of a mood. The thought soured her, and she wished her mom was still around. Missed her terribly.

‘Hey, you okay?’ Raine said.

Courtney looked up. ‘I have to go.’ She pulled out her wallet.

‘Don’t bother,’ Que said. He reached into the left pocket of his designer hoodie and pulled out his wallet. It was a fancy one, black shiny leather, maybe eel or snakeskin, and covered by a red and gold design she couldn’t make out. More noticeably it was bulging with green, easily a couple of inches thick.

Que got up from the table, pulled out a pack of Player’s Filter Lights cigarettes and lit one up. Took a long drag. He walked to the register, where a slender Asian girl was adding up receipts behind a Cash Only sign. She touched his arm several times and smiled a lot. Que didn’t seem to notice. He paid for the meal, all the while keeping his head craned to the alley outside.

Courtney leaned across the table. ‘You see how much money he’s got in his wallet?’

Raine shrugged. ‘Always does.’

‘How’s he get it?’

‘His dad’s a businessman overseas. In Hong Kong. Makes theme parks or hotels or something like that. Something fancy. Anyway, he’s loaded. Don’t worry so much, Court. God, you always worry!’

When Que returned to the table, Raine got up, excused herself, and went to the washroom. With her gone, a silence filled the air. Uncomfortable. Courtney listened to the clatter coming from the kitchen, looked up and found Que’s fake green eyes staring heavy on her. He took another deep drag on his cigarette, blew out a long trail of smoke, and grinned.

‘I should take you out for dinner sometime, too, you know.’

‘What?’

‘Take you out for dinner, just you and me.’ He leaned forward and rested on his forearms. ‘One night when you’re really, really hungry, Beautiful.’

‘I don’t think I’ll ever be that hungry.’

‘You might be,’ he said, and smiled.

Courtney leaned back in her chair, away from the table, away from Que until Raine got back from the rest room.

‘What you guys talk about?’ Raine asked.

‘Food,’ Courtney said. She let out a long breath. Her throat was dry, her water glass empty. She refilled it from the pitcher, drank a third of a glass, and looked back at the register, just in time to see Que get up and pay for another bottle of whisky. As he did so, he leaned forward across the counter and his white hoodie rode up at his waist.

Courtney blinked. There was something underneath the back of Que’s hoodie, something about the size of a man’s hand. And it brought back all the bad feelings she’d been experiencing ever since they’d met him two hours ago in the mall.

It was a gun.

Courtney knew it. For sure. She’d seen her father’s Sig too many times to count when he worked plainclothes or undercover.

‘Raine,’ she started, then cut herself short when Que returned to the table.

He didn’t sit down. Instead he took his wallet back out, grabbed a pair of fifties, and handed them to Raine. ‘Take a cab home,’ he said.

Her smile weakened. ‘But I thought… Well, I thought that tonight…’

‘I have to go. Meet me at the usual place tomorrow night.’

The smile slipped a little more from Raine’s face and she gave Courtney a confused look. Que grabbed her, pulled her close. He gave her a long kiss, one so deep Courtney’s cheeks grew hot and she turned momentarily away from them. When the kiss ended, Raine let out a gasp, laughed softly, and touched his face.

‘Are you sure-’

‘I have to go,’ he said again. His voice was distant, faraway. ‘Wait here for ten minutes before you leave.’

‘Wait?’

‘Just do it,’ he said. ‘I’ll be gone a while.’

‘But I thought tonight was going to be-’

‘ Enough!’ he snapped. He rubbed a hand over his face and muttered something in a language Courtney didn’t understand. ‘I should never have gotten this close to you.’

Raine gave him a lost look. ‘I don’t understand.’

Que looked back at her, said nothing for a long moment, then he touched her face softly.

‘It’s nothing,’ he said. ‘It’s me. Go home.’

Raine nodded. ‘You’ll call?’

‘Meet me tomorrow, like we’d planned. We’ll talk more then.’

He kissed her again, hard, then turned away and grabbed the bottle of whisky. He spoke to the young Asian girl at the cash register, and she led him through the kitchen out the rear entrance. The door slammed closed, so loudly the girls heard it in the eating area, and then they were alone again, just the two of them in a strange back alley restaurant that had no menus or sign or name. A place where people left by the back door.