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Jack, mi buen amigo, you have to understand,
it's not my choice.
They got the books.
The only question is, will I be guilty of perjury, too?
Entiendes?
If I testify, what happens, eh?
You get indicted within 30 days.
If I don't testify, they still get you.
Qué puedo hacer?
My grandfather used to say, you get a cold,
you do everything the doctor says,
it takes two weeks to get better.
You do nothing at all, it takes 14 days.
Six in one hand, half a dozen the other.
Unfortunately, yes.
Hmm?
Maybe they take 90 days.
Hmm?
That's it.
That's all.
Three months, six months at the most, and they still get you.
Qué puedo hacer?
Hmm?
Nada.
You all right?
Oh, it's OK.
Está bien.
It's allergies.
How's your old fashioned?
Muy bueno.
I like the bitters.
Let me freshen it for you.
Mira.
I do any--
This is a--
a special concoction of mine.
Other than the whiskey, sugar, bitters, and club soda,
it has a subtle splash of pilocarpine neostigmine,
topped off with a whisper, just a whisper of physostigmine.
You're feeling it now--
bronchial constriction, muscle spasms, the pulse slows.
And death ensues.
Perez, cut him up.
Chum the waters.
After all, every day is a fishing day.
Like, What would I do for someone I was really hot for?
No, no, not hot for, consumed with.
There's a difference.
Dude, like, I don't know, man.
You know?
Well, for example, when I was 17,
I met an Italian with a Ferrari.
And I suppose he thought I was consumed
with him, and the Ferrari.
Anyway, he took me for a drive on some godforsaken twisting
road in the Pyrenees.
He said, just let the wind blow through your hair,
and surrender to the fact that now your own life and death
are completely out of your control
and in the hands of another.
That's where the real excitement is, not in control.
The real excitement, he said, is surrender.
That's what it is to be consumed.
So is that, like, what you did?
You know?
You surrendered, yeah?
No.
Well, what did you do, then?
I went down on him.
You see, I like being in control.
You're the one who oughta surrender.
Woo!
Din din, boys.
Hola.
Ah, gracias, mi viejo amigo.
Oh, ho, ho.
Mucho gracias.
Hello, Lovey.
You look positively flushed.
Exciting night, eh?
Sit.
Nora, sit.
What?
Don't look at me with those big, frightened eyes.
I won't bite.
Oh, yes, you do have a certain glow.
Flushed.
I was working out late at the club
and decided to spend the night there.
Hmm.
Hmm, dewy.
Positively dewy.
Well, the workouts are doing you well, Lovey.
Your buttocks are firm.
Nice for a woman your age.
Nice and juicy.
Are you through?
Yeah, see, that's the problem.
I think you're through.
Shall I make you a proper drink, Love?
You may need it.
A nice stiff one.
And I know you like them stiff.
Are you threatening me?
And why would I do that?
Because if you are, you'd have
to kill me to get rid of me.
And we both know I have a cop in my back pocket
who'd track you down like a snake.
Whatever are you talking about, mi vida?
I think I am the most devoted of husbands.
And I own 51% of the company.
The only way that changes is if I'm dead or I leave you.
And that's not gonna happen.
So I'm not through, Jack.
Trust me on that.
I think you are going to need this drink.
What are you talking about?
The fact that you own 51% of the company
is exactly why I say you're through.
This may come as a surprise to you,
but my accounting practices aren't exactly, uh, legal.
You and I have been living on embezzled funds.
And since we are a publicly traded company,
that means the SEC and its team of jackbooted accountant types
will be breathing down our throats.
We could have been indicted within the next 30 days.
But I took precautions to cut off
certain relationships we had with our former business
partner.
You know what they say.
Three people can keep a secret if two of them are dead.
Present company not included.
That gave us-- I don't know-- maybe three months,
possibly six until--
Three or six months until what?
Do you have a light, Lovey?
Three or six months until what?
Ah, El Convento.
Such a lovely place and full of all
these attractive young people.
Until what?
Oh, until we're indicted.
Until they take everything we own.
Until we're both in jail.
Why do you think I agreed to let you own 51% of the company?
Hmm?
Why do you think I married you?
Wives can't testify against their husbands,
no matter what they know.
And if I go down, trust me, you go down,
and not in your normal fashion.
Can you imagine what those prison dykes
are going to do with you?
God, what I wouldn't give for pictures.
You fucking bastard.
Oh, God.
This thought of prison scares you, hey, Lovey?
Hmm?
Well, have no fear.
There is a way out.
Nora, you didn't think Daddy was gonna leave you
all alone in the shed, did you?
God, how I hate you.
I think you should murder me.
I think you've been thinking the same thing for a while now,
haven't you?
Wouldn't be that difficult. You find a young lover
and make him so crazy about you, he
starts to think only with his-- how would you say, la cabecita?
His little head.
A boy, 22, 23, firm body, soft brain.
And you entice him with the joy of surrender.
You could do that.
It would be nothing for you to convince
him to help you murder me.
What do you think, Lovey?
Who could blame me?
I will even tell you how to do it.
And remember, I'm still insured for $30 million.
You tell him that after the husband's dead,
you, the grieving widow, will inherit the money
and live happily ever after with your young Lothario.
You like this idea so far, right?
Yeah.
And Lovey, the most amazing thing.
Here, on the island of San Miguel,
the police don't actually need a corpse
to declare someone's been killed, because of the sharks,
you see?
Sometimes all they need is a murderer.
Simple.
Nothing has been simple for a long time, Jack.
We plan the murder together.
We frame your lover.
And when he's caught, tried, and convicted, the moment he is,
the insurance company gives you the loot.
And what's in it for Jack?
A fresh start, half the money.
I mean, we're 50-50 partners here.
And what would stop me from murdering you
for real and keeping all of it?
I mean, if you're gonna show me how to do it, what would you do?
Sue me from the grave?
And what would stop me from murdering you
for real and keeping all of it?
I mean, if you're gonna show me how to do it, what would you do?
Sue me from the grave?
I simply make sure the local constabulary
gets a copy of that recording and these photographs.
Now, you know me.
The photographs, I'm still old school, film and darkrooms.
You know, that digital shit can be hacked.
But with voice recordings, only digital, and they
live in this device until I let them out.
Nora, you should know I think of everything.
And you won't betray me.
God forbid I should turn up dead 'cause someone you don't know,
someone you never even knew existed, someone whom I trust
will make sure these same recordings
and photos get to the local constabulary.
And you, my dear, will fry.
But look on the bright side.
When this is over, you will be free of me.
To a little murder, then.
To a little murder.
Wedding ring?
Problem?
Not for me.
Me, neither.
So what's the deal with the husband?
Ugh.
If there was a God in heaven, he'd be dead.
He beats me.
Because you want him to?
Fuck you!
Fuck me.
Oh, well, that was delicious.
First two times were delicious.
Third was war.
I surrender.
Oh, I doubt that.
Smart boy.
So what brings a New York cop to our fair little island?
Out of curiosity, when did you make me out for a cop?
Minute I saw you.
Ah.
Cheap suit, expensive gun.
Mob guys dress better.
Yeah, they can afford to.
So you live here now?
Is that a problem?
You into only go in for one night stands?
I have any number of people I can sleep with.
I have no one I can talk to.
You do now.
Ah.
My husband's a bastard.
You're not happily married?
I'm shocked.
He degrades me, humiliates me.
He's pimped me.
The first time he drugged me, and I woke up
in our bed underneath this wheezy old bastard drooling
on my neck.
He drugged you, and he gave you to one of his friends?
No, one of his enemies.
He said it was dessert at a business meal.
He even took pictures.
Why do you stay with him?
For the money.
Why else?
He's degenerate, but he's getting old
and his health is bad, and he's bound to die.
Oh, I dream about him dying, about killing him.
Too bad you don't make a couple million dollars a year, Dani.
No shit.
Then I could run out with you.
I wouldn't need to kill him.
Yeah, I'd do that, run off with you.
I'd do that right now.
But then I--
I've probably said too much.
You're a cop, after all.
And I just told you I only stayed
with him because of the money and that I
dream about killing him.
There's no crime against dreaming.
It's a wish your heart makes, right?
Right.
Dani?
Yeah?
I'm on my way.
I'll pick you up in 20 minutes.
Drop me a pin.
I'll meet you there.
Bianca?
Sh--
Wife or girlfriend?
Partner, and she outranks me.
So dead body just washed up on the beach.
We're next on the board, so it's ours.
You're a homicide detective?
Yeah.
Fascinating.
Absolutely fascinating.
You're hooked up with Nora Wolfe now?
How 'bout it's none of your fucking business,
hmm?
Colonel.
Good morning, detectives.
Anybody talk to the husband?
Sister Rachel's
down there doing her chaplain thing, counseling him.
Thank God for the Blue Nun.
Anybody else speak to him?
They were waiting for the expert.
That'll be me.
You stay with me.
I want you to do the report.
What fucking report?
We got this rich gringa lady
who got bit in half by a shark.
Yeah?
You gotta have
a report for the gringo insurance company up norte.
Better off if it's signed with a gringo name like yours.
Jesus Christ.
You think it was an accident?
I think if the shark gets a good lawyer,
we could probably never prove intent.
You know what Palo Mayombe is?
Yeah, something to do with Santeria, witchcraft,
something like that.
Something like that.
It's very black magic out of Cuba.
So?
So word was the rich gringa
was a royal pain in the ass bitch, especially to the locals.
Talk was somebody wanted to work a trabajo to put a curse on her.
She goes for a swim every evening at sunset.
Everybody knows it.
So the local gossip has it that somebody went to a Mayombero
and he did the trabajo.
They say he called up the sharks from the seven caves
where they sleep, and they came and ate the rich gringa lady
all up.
Do you believe that?
Doesn't the Bible say that God called up a big fish
to swallow Jonah?
That's what it says.
So you think Bible magic is more
potent than Caribbean magic?
I think the only reason God
got caught in the first place is 'cause Jonah ratted him out.
I'll tell you what I think.
I think the young husband probably heard
about the Palo Mayombe talk and chummed the waters
where his wife swam with nice red meat, dripping blood,
then got himself out with that jet ski over there.
The sharks were hungry, in a blood lust.
They started feeding, and the meat run out
before their appetites did.
If she hadn't shown up when she did,
they probably would have taken to eating each other.
They're sharks, after all.
Ugh.
Tell me something.
Is it about nutrition?
What's Jack Wolfe got on his wife?
What makes you think I know anything about Nora Wolfe?
I don't know.
High profile guy like Wolfe, rumored
to be fronting for a bunch of dope dealers,
my guess is there's not a lot about him you don't know.
So you really love her for her mind, right?
Mm-hmm.
So touching.
She was a hooker.
I'm shocked.
High class, if that makes you feel any better.
$3,000 a pop.
Top of the line Vegas high roller escort.
Anyway, the story I heard from a Vegas cop
was that our friend, handsome Jack,
was in town entertaining a couple golf investors
who were buying real estate on every golf course
from Hawaii to Vegas.
He was selling high rollers home sites off the Strip,
golf memberships included.
He'd have four or five guys a month coming over,
and Nora was the closer.
And?
Then some guy freaked on her, I guess.
No!
Stop!
No!
No, no, no, no, no.
Hey.
Hey, hey.
So your girl calls Jack and says, I'm in trouble.
And handsome Jack comes running.
Lovey?
Nora, it's me, Jack.
Came right away, like you asked.
Jackie on the spot.
Come on, open the door.
Wow, what a shot.
Amazing.
Let's not get crazy now, Lovey.
Put the gun down.
Come on.
Let's come to your senses.
Take a breath.
You hungry?
I can call room service.
No, I guess I can't, huh?
We can go out.
Yes, we'll go out.
We can clean this mess up later, and things will be fine.
OK?
We'll go to Ferraro's.
You ever had their ossobucco?
Ah, it's so good.
Just falls off the bone, just tender.
What about--
Him?
Oh, he's dead and on his way to hell.
We are going to have ossobucco, and I
will order a wonderful bottle of wine, a Barolo.
You love Barolo, right?
I don't wanna go out to eat, Jack.
Oh, no, no, no.
That's not what I want.
Come on.
Yeah.
Come on.
It's like the Limey with the big lips always sings about.
You know?
Can't always get what you want.
But with Jackie boy, you always get what you need.
Anyway, the guy's body was found three days later
out in the desert.
A little money got spread around.
No charges were filed.
And Nora became Mrs. Jack Wolfe.
My guess is either he had pictures or maybe even videoed
the whole sordid mess.
How?
It was his apartment.
In fact, he owned the whole block.
I hear Jack likes pictures, old school film, not digital.
Probably has some of you and Nora
playing hide the pickle by now.
Jesus.
Dani, stay out of this.
Stay out of what?
One of these days, Jack Wolfe is gonna turn up dead.
And every cop I know is gonna be after Nora Wolfe
and whoever she's involved with at the time.
I hope that's not you, Dani, 'cause partner or not--
You'd arrest me?
If I didn't shoot you first.
Just leave him, Nora.
I'll-- I'll find a way to get those videos.
I'll beat it out of him if necessary.
Who cares about the money?
We'll just find a place, just the two of us.
You want me to leave my husband
and wind up with nothing?
Well--
I don't think that's an alternative, Dani,
not even for you.
There are other things we could do.
No, no, it's not gonna happen.
But there wasn't any other choice until now.
You're my choice, Dani.
You can do it.
He doesn't deserve to live.
It's not gonna happen.
Because you're a cop?
Because I love you.
I won't let you do it.
Dani, I--
I want you to know that I love you, and I--
Mm-hmm.
I think, no matter what happens, I'll always love you.
But this relationship is unproductive.
Goodbye.
What?
Hey, baby.
My husband wants us to kill him.
Can you believe that?
Wait.
He knows about us?
Oh, shit, man.
Shit!
Fuck!
Shit, man!
Your husband knows about us, Nora?
Oh, shit, man.
This is fucked, Nora.
Like, this guy's got, like, a gun and shit.
Right?
He's some kind of old school gangster.
We need to get the fuck out of here, man.
Chad, sit.
We'll kill him.
I was gonna do it anyway, but now he's gonna show us how.
And believe me, Jack's the smartest man I know.
If he says he can make it work, he will.
Except instead of faking his death and framing you,
we'll kill him and piss on his grave.
Whoa, wait.
He wants to frame me?
Of course, Chad.
That's the plan.
Haven't you been listening?
I mean, like, yeah, man.
But I mean, right, listen to me, Nora.
I don't know if I'm down for this.
I mean, I don't even know Mr. Wolfe.
I don't even know this guy that you wanna kill.
Chad, I just told you Jack
was gonna frame you for murder, and he doesn't know you, either.
He's scum.
It's self-defense.
We can be free of him.
Yeah, but I'm free of him now, dude.
You think so?
Well, yeah.
Jack knows all about us.
We're both trapped.
What?
Look, I can either help him fake his death
and frame you, and you'll go to prison.
Or the two of us can work together, and he'll be dead,
and we'll have $30 million.
$30 million?
$30 million.
But don't misunderstand.
I can't just do nothing.
I'm trapped.
And now you are, too.
Wait, Nora, man, like, how am I trapped?
I'm not trapped.
He asked me to bring things back with your DNA on it,
and I did.
You?
I had a lot of DNA, Chad.
Now Jack has it, and that means he has you.
Wait.
But why would you do that to me, man?
Like, I didn't do anything to you.
Oh, baby, I chose you that night in the bar.
Jack knows that.
So now I'm gonna do everything he wants me to do.
But I'm doing it for us, you and me, so we can trap him.
All right?
All right.
Wait.
But I don't wanna trap him.
Shh.
Like I said, Chad, you don't have a choice.
Look, if the plan is good, we can do it.
If it isn't, we don't have to.
It'll just be like a game.
Just a sexy little game.
Whoa, shit.
Hi.
I'm your voice-activated virtual travel agent.
How can I help you today?
Hey, dude.
I want a flight to Miami.
All right.
For what day?
Like, for today, bro.
And for which flight?
Dude, get me the first one out of here.
Round trip?
No, fuck that.
One way.
All right.
The first flight we have for today is San Miguel Airways
Flight 11023, departing at 11:40 AM for Miami.
That's cool.
That's cool, man.
That will be $396 one way.
How would you like to pay?
By card.
Great.
Just enter the credit information in the boxes below,
and you're only a few steps away from your destination.
I'm sorry, Chad, your card has been declined.
Declined, man?
What do you mean, declined?
Like, no, no, no.
Fuck that, bro.
Like, hey, listen, I paid that bill.
I know I did.
I had, like, $600 worth of credit on this card, bro.
I'm sorry.
That credit card has been reported stolen and is invalid.
Please choose another method of payment.
What do you mean stolen, bro?
No, no, dude, that's bullshit.
OK?
It's bullshit.
This is my card.
I know it is.
It hasn't been stolen off.
You wait a minute.
I got my driver's license right there.
I told you, you don't have a choice, Chad.
The sooner you accept that, the happier you'll be.
Fuck.
Hey, Chad.
Chad.
Chad!
Hey.
How's it going, bro?
Oh, man, I'm so fucking bummed.
What was that old shit like?
Bro, this shit's not old.
No, not that shit, man.
Well, what shit, dude?
That MILF shit, man.
You know.
Hey, what the fuck are you talking about, man?
That MILF.
I mean, she's gotta be, like, 40 something, right?
Dude, first of all, she's hot, OK?
And second of all, man--
What's second of all?
Like, second of all, bro, it's
none of your fucking business.
All right?
Do you want this shit or not, 'cause I need some cash.
Yeah, right.
Don't get all, you know, testy and shit, man.
I'm just asking.
You're right, she's hot.
It's all good.
It's all good, bro.
Whoa!
Hey!
Up against the wall.
Spread your fucking legs.
Yo, it's cool.
We're just talking, man.
Come on, just talking, bro.
Hey.
What's this?
Is this fucking talking?
Oh, that, man?
Come on.
That's cool, bro.
What else you think I was talking?
Nothing, man.
That's bullshit.
Come on.
Hit me.
What?
No, no, no.
Hey, no, no, bro.
Fucking hit me, you piece of shit!
No, no, no!
This is a bullshit bust, Dani.
You know that.
You didn't Mirandize him.
You assaulted him.
And everybody on the island knows
that this is the kid who's planting
the plantain to Nora Wolfe, that gringa with the slit dress.
No, no, no.
Colonel Hernandez, that's bullshit.
OK?
Is that what he fucking said?
You gonna take his word over mine, sir?
No.
I'm gonna take Bianca Ortiz's word over yours.
You're supposed to be my partner, for fuck's sake.
Where do you get off, A, screwing up a righteous bust,
and, B, telling the Colonel Hernandez
I arrested a kid on fucking jealousy?
What the fuck are you trying to do to me, huh, Bianca?
A, it wasn't a righteous bust, and you know it.
And B, you arrest this kid and at the trial,
they'll get some people to swear the only reason you
did it was, he was involved with your former girlfriend,
about whom you're still heavily, as they say,
fucking loco de la cabeza.
Would you like to talk
to me about something, my son?
Do you feel the need to be in counseling?
Counseling about what?
Counseling about why you're such a schmuck.
Cops cannot use their police powers to eliminate rivals who
are 20 years younger.
Jesus.
You'd swear people on this island have nothing else to do
but talk of my fucking personal life.
They don't.
And mind your language.
Everyone watches everyone else here all the time.
And right now, everyone is watching you.
All right.
OK.
Drop the charges against the kid.
OK?
Did it ever occur to you that maybe you're
the one being used?
What's that supposed to mean?
It means you're a jealous man, Dani.
And a jealous man can always be useful for someone
with murder on her mind.
Jesus, Lovey, what a great idea.
That thing between your cop friend and the boy?
Mm, just brilliant.
I mean, how did he was watching you?
I mean, I know because I have pictures.
But how did you?
Why am I even asking?
Of course you knew.
You get off on it, don't you?
Your jealous cop watches you and the lithe young boy
make the beast with two backs.
So now he hates him more than he hates me.
So when I turn up dead, he will pursue
the villainous young assassin with even greater gusto.
He certainly doesn't wanna see you go to prison.
I think he really cares about you.
You know that?
Where you going, Lovey?
I'm going to see Chad.
Make sure the young stud wears protection.
Idiot!
Shit, man!
He's watching you now, for fuck's sake.
What the fuck, Nora?
Why, man?
Wait.
Who's watching me?
Dani, the cop.
What, that dude?
Like, he dropped the charges, man.
I was almost hoping he wouldn't.
It would have gotten me out of all this shit.
Nothing will get you out of this, Chad, except dying.
God, what a hovel.
Being stupid and getting busted for drugs certainly
isn't gonna do it.
Hey, don't call me stupid, Nora.
It's very important you listen to me
and focus exactly on what I'm saying.
OK?
Sit.
Don't sulk.
This is business now.
Not only our lives depend on how clearly we
think, but a great deal of money as well.
All right?
Yeah, all right.
OK?
I said, OK, man.
It's true, you have a beautiful body, but sometimes
a doper mentality.
Baby, you got a dynamite bod, too.
Chad, focus.
I'm focused.
Jack knows we're gonna try and kill him.
Wait.
He does?
How the fuck does he know that, Nora?
Because he's smart.
It's a game to him.
And he's just made the opening moves.
Now it's our move, and we have to be smarter.
Fuck, bro, but, like, I'm not smarter than Jack.
I'm, like, fucking stupid, Nora.
You just said--
You Catholics are tough on the knees.
Shh.
Amen.
Sister Rachel, I didn't understand the sermon.
What part, sweetheart?
Why does God let the devil keep on tempting people?
That is one of the great mysteries.
And does the devil sometimes win?
Only the battles, Juliana, not the war.
Still, people better watch out.
They should, indeed.
Every time I tell myself that I don't
regret not having any children, I meet one like that.
I can't sleep.
I'm drinking like a fish.
I'm out there making less than righteous busts.
I mean, Jesus Christ, I'm a homicide detective,
and I'm spending my time trying to figure out
how to keep my former lover, who maybe I'm still in love with,
from murdering her fucking husband,
which she's told me she's gonna do.
Maybe that's an obsession.
But what is it if I just--
I just walk away, huh?
Murder.
Which makes me an accessory.
Which means even if I didn't love her,
I'd have to figure out a way to stop her.
What a fool you are.
That child's moral compass is far superior to yours.
That's why she's a child.
There's photos and videos of her in Vegas, audio recordings
of Nora talking about faking Jack's death,
and God knows what else.
And they're all in the hands of one of Jack's flunkies,
someone Nora thinks is brought over from Havana or the DR,
probably got something on.
And none of 'em are on computers,
so they can't be hacked or deleted.
This is law enforcement, not theology.
Why don't you just talk to your partner?
Bianca Ortiz, the dragon lady, to prevent a crime?
If she could get her hands on those pictures and videos,
she'd sit on 'em until after the murder so
she could perform a slam dunk, righteous bust, and you know it.
Ciao, Bella.
Good time?
Ah, of course it was.
Look at that glow.
It's good for you, this young stallion, eh?
You know what I wish?
What?
Call me an old softy, but I
wish we could turn back the clock to the good old days
when you tricked with those business types,
and you'd come tell me about it and we get each other off.
Good times, hey, Lovey?
Nora?
Would you like to retire to the patio and plan my murder?
Why not?
And what would be your preferred method of whacking me?
Preferably something that involves pain.
Oh, you sexy bitch.
But this isn't about pleasure, mon amie.
This is business, right?
Right as rain.
Well, I googled the actuarial tables
for the insurance companies on accidental deaths.
And guess what I found.
What?
My beloved boat.
And contrary to appearances, this is more than just
a mere extravagance.
It's a perfectly plausible alibi.
You see, on a boat like this, you have to turn on the blower
before you start the engine.
It's because gas fumes collect here,
below deck, where the engine's power plant lies dormant
until a spark from the ignition brings it roaring to life.
Now, below decks, what do we have?
Gas fumes.
In an enclosed space.
Now, what if the blower was functioning improperly,
and there were fumes in this enclosed space,
and a spark from the ignition?
Instead of the engine throbbing with power, what would we have?
A bomb.
Boom.
With an explosion that large, there
would hardly be any body part left to identify.
So what do you think, Love?
I think we're gonna need some of your body parts.
Otherwise, wouldn't somebody smell a rat?
Well, it is so wonderful to have someone
to share this burden with.
You are such a good partner.
You ask all the right questions, like a cop.
But this is why I'm thinking of using the boat.
Now, stay with me.
Remember the society gringa that married the young San Migueleño
that fed her to the sharks?
Mm-hmm.
How much off her ass did they find, huh?
A tibia, fibia, wishbone?
Wasn't much, but enough to identify her.
We need a body part, Jack.
I am not cutting off an arm or a leg for this thing.
So what they don't find a body part?
There are tides, right?
Pieces of old Jackie boy could be washing up in Fiji, Tarawa,
or wherever it is the natives screw each other's brains
out all day.
I mean, I don't see why we have to be holier than the Pope
on this thing.
Your teeth.
What about them?
We pull a few.
Don't you have a molar or canine that was capped in Havana?
I don't think we need--
I'd help you.
I could pull a few.
I mean, you certainly can't go to a dentist.
He could testify against us.
I'm only thinking of the good of the plan.
You're a saint, Lovey, an absolute saint.
What about your ring finger,
with your wedding ring still on it so they really have something
to identify?
I mean, they can show me your finger in a little box
or something.
They put them in baggies, I think.
Ah.
OK.
So they'll show me a baggie, Jack.
What's the big fucking deal?
I'm trying to make a point here.
So they show me a baggie with your finger in it,
and I can hold it up and--
Oh!
Oh my God, that's the ring I gave him.
That's Jack's wedding ring.
That's all that's left of him.
My poor Jack.
Oh.
That's very effective, Jack.
Very, very effective.
No.
It's just because it's my idea.
If you'd thought it up, you'd think it was wonderful.
Swear to God, Lovey, even if I'd thought of it first,
it's still a stupid fucking idea.
It's not stupid!
It's irrefutable proof that you're dead.
No, it's not!
They would look at the finger and see
it's been cut off with a knife, not blown off
in a goddamned explosion.
It's a stupid fucking idea!
We could cut the finger off with a serrated edge,
and then we could burn it, OK, like in a fucking explosion!
There are any number of things you
could do if you really cared.
Chad?
What the fuck, man?
Shit!
Oh!
Hot!
Hi.
You and I need to have a little talk.
Well, why don't we put that gun down, man?
I don't have any money, man.
I-- I don't even have a credit card, dude.
Like--
Chad, that's a $200,000 car over there.
Does it look like I need your money?
OK, man.
You know, that-- that's cool, bro.
But well, you know, there must be a mistake,
man, 'cause I don't even know you, and you got a gun.
Ah, but I know you.
You're the young man who's defiling my wife.
Mr. Wolfe?
You're also the young man she's
plotting with to murder me for my insurance money.
So get out of the car, slowly.
OK, man.
It's cool.
OK.
Oh, God.
Yeah.
Don't think about running.
Don't think about fighting.
You're not thinking clearly right now, but I am.
So let's get in my car.
OK, man.
And you'll be safe.
OK.
Do we need the gun, bro?
Put your hands down.
Just don't be afraid.
OK?
Here, have a cigarette.
Thank you, Mr. Wolfe.
Mr. Wolfe.
Why are you being so formal, huh,
after all we have in common, like my wife, for instance?
You know?
You call her Mrs. Wolfe when you have her squealing while you're
blowing her back out?
Or you call her Nora or baby?
No, man.
No, no, no.
No, no, dude, no, no.
I'll never see her again.
OK?
I'll move.
No, no, no, no.
I was gonna move anyway.
Absolutely do not do that.
I don't give a fuck.
I mean, honestly, I couldn't be happier.
Wait.
What, man?
I need to smoke some dope, bro.
No, can't have you smoking dope.
I need you sober when you're driving my expensive ass car.
OK?
Come on.
Let's go somewhere where you and I can talk man to boy.
Out.
Whoa, bro.
Are you gonna kill me?
One of us is gonna die.
That's for sure.
No, dude.
Please.
Out!
Oh, shit.
OK, I'm getting out, man.
OK, man.
Don't.
Don't think about that.
Turn around.
Shit.
Turn around!
On your knees.
You know, I've been planning this for a very long time,
since before you were born, in fact.
Wait, bro.
Before I was born, you've been planning to kill me?
Chad, don't interrupt me, please.
From the time I was a very young man,
I realized that the way I lived my life,
there might come a time when I would need to disappear.
So I insured myself very heavily so that after my death,
I could live very comfortably.
But then the query, who to leave that vast sum of money to?
That's a question, Chad.
To whom should I leave my money?
I don't know, man.
Like, I guess to Mrs. Nora.
Mrs. Wolfe.
I don't know about that now.
Can I trust her?
You know her.
After all, she is planning to kill me.
So would you trust her?
No fucking way, dude.
No fucking way, dude, indeed.
But then I had a revelation.
Who better than a beloved child?
So I created one.
It was godlike, divine.
No vagina, no penis, no sperm, just the word.
Let there be child.
And there was one.
Dude, what the fuck are you talking about, man?
Don't worry about it, my boy.
Get up off your knees.
You're not in church.
I'll explain everything to you.
Come.
Look what I have for you.
Oh, shit, man.
Thanks, bro.
I registered the birth of a boy,
and I adopted this imaginary child.
I called him Jean.
Now, Jean, he was educated at home by the best tutors.
I took all his matriculation exams myself.
Off the charts.
Now, when he turned 18, he rented an apartment,
got him a car.
Wait.
You bought him a car?
Of course I got him a car.
Oh, that's cool.
Credit cards were applied for.
Purchases were regularly made, bills paid promptly.
And my immaculately conceived son, Jean, became my legal heir,
able to inherit all my money.
Now, he and Nora are the beneficiaries
of my insurance policy.
But if Nora is convicted of my murder, who do you think
inherits all that money?
Jean.
Oh, no, no, no, no, someone else.
I don't know, man.
Like, who?
You, my boy, because I say you are Jean.
Wait.
Jean is an empty vessel that I can fill with whomever
or whatever I choose.
And I choose you.
In the words of Darth Vader, I am your father.
Uh, do you really think that Nora, after you've killed me,
is going to share that money with you?
No.
She's going to frame you and keep the money for herself.
Now, you knew that, didn't you?
Whoa.
Yeah, big time whoa.
Now, you and I are each other's salvation.
How?
We're gonna frame her for my murder,
and you and I will split the money.
Was that my husband, Chad?
Whoa!
Shit!
Is that you, Nora, man?
Jesus!
Like, what the fuck?
How can you see in the dark?
OK, yeah, that was your husband, dude.
I don't know, man.
He snuck up on me and talked to a bunch of crazy shit
and then dropped me off.
Like, I gotta go back for my car tomorrow, man.
And then what?
I mean, like, he knows we're gonna do it.
It's fucked, bro.
Nothing is fucked, Chad.
Jesus, Mrs. Wolfe, it's over.
Nothing is over, Chad.
It's like you said.
He's onto us.
He's fucking outsmarted us now, man.
What did he say?
Please try to remember exactly.
Be specific.
I'm telling you, he talked a bunch of crazy shit.
What kind of crazy shit, Chad?
What's it matter, Nora?
It matters to me.
I'm not kidding about your life depending on this, you know.
Jack's a very dangerous man.
You need me.
You need me to tell you what he's up to.
Oh, no, man.
You need me, Nora.
Hmm.
He's trapping you, isn't he?
He told you, you can't trust me.
Look, whatever else he said may have sounded good,
but believe me, Chad, it's a trap.
Now, what did he say?
Jack's flunky is a photographer.
You say he develops the pictures.
They aren't digital.
Yeah, that's what Nora said.
Right.
And you said Jack brought him over from Havana.
That means he's gonna be at least Jack's age, probably
older.
I'm willing to guess he's set in his own ways,
develops the pictures himself.
That means he has a darkroom.
Right.
And he has to have a place where
he can buy paper and chemicals.
Maybe he orders them online.
True.
But perhaps an older gentleman doesn't
like to buy things online.
And if he runs out of something, he might need it right away.
OK.
Well, Klein's is the biggest store.
So--
If you were from Havana
and you're here illegally taking pictures
to blackmail people of God only knows what,
are you going to shop at a store owned by Mr. Klein
or at Martinez Photo and Camera, owned by the Mr. Martinez
whose father, I might add, is also from Havana,
and who came over right after Castro took over?
Sister, for a nun, you're a fucking hell of a cop.
Kid.
He left the money to a fucking kid.
Jean.
He named the kid Jean, man.
Bullshit.
Well, this whole thing's bullshit, Nora.
Like it's over, man.
Let's just--
Let's just what, Chad?
Continue our-- what is this, a romance?
I told you before, you don't have a choice.
Yeah?
Well, maybe I do.
You wanna know what your choice is?
You can spend Jack's money with me
on the beach in the Grand Caymans,
or you can check into San Miguel Penitentiary
as playmate of the month.
I know a little something about being the object
of men's desires, Chad.
If that's what you decide, I can probably
give you a few pointers.
Fuck, man.
We really shouldn't be doing this, Mrs. Wolfe.
I know.
But he'll kill me if I don't get these documents
to the bank on time.
I mean, honestly, he'd kill me if he knew I was stupid enough
to lose the combination.
You guys are lifesavers, really.
OK.
Have a good day.
Dearest Nora, I
would have given you the policy if you'd only asked.
Now then, Lovey, who do you think our Chad
is going to betray, you or me?
It's Jean, OK?
J-E-A-N. Not fucking John.
What's it matter, man?
Like, John.
It matters because you're gonna do exactly what Jack says.
You're gonna let him show you how
to be John Wolfe, because after we kill him,
I'll collect half the money as his wife,
and you'll collect half the money as his child.
OK, man.
No, no, I don't know nobody like that.
He took pictures of my mother's bingo game
at our local parish, maybe two months ago.
He said he was gonna give us the pictures, and we never got 'em.
No, no, I don't know nobody like that.
He's very quiet.
I don't think he has many friends or family.
I do know he has his own darkroom, though.
No, no, I don't know nobody like that.
He said he was from Havana, maybe in his 70s,
possibly a little older.
Nope.
You don't know anybody from Havana who's maybe
in the 70s or a little older?
No.
You never met a 70-year-old person from Havana
in your entire fucking life?
No, no, no.
OK?
Sorry, coño.
Excuse me.
What do you think you're doing, cabrón?
You broke my fucking nose.
Yeah, 'cause you were resisting arrest.
Arrest?
The fuck did I do?
So my snitch tells me you're
the biggest fence for stolen cameras in the whole fucking
island.
Now, you can either remember this guy
who you never fucking saw, or I can bring you in right now.
And trust me, cabrón, I got so many brothers
in County who would love to owe me a favor
by fucking up a greaseball like you.
So now you remember that guy?
That guy, 75, 80, from Havana,
maybe has his own darkroom.
Ah.
I think I remember that guy now.
Yeah.
What's his name?
I only remember his first name.
OK?
Anibal.
That's his first name.
Always pay cash, no credit card.
He come in next time, I find out his last name and call you.
OK?
OK.
You got one week.
OK, fuck face?
Then the stolen property unit's gonna come in here,
and they're going to crawl up your fucking asshole,
and they're gonna start taking an inventory.
Kapish?
Kapish.
I was thinking, Chad--
I was thinking, Chad is like the child
we never had a chance to abuse.
Don't you, Lovey?
You know, you are not such an up person anymore.
You didn't answer my question.
Don't you think Chad is like the child that--
No, I don't.
You don't?
Oh, I think if we had a child like Chad, he would be bad.
Right?
Sam I Am.
What, Lovey?
Sam I Fucking Am.
Sam I Am.
It's a lovely, innocent fucking children's book,
so you wouldn't know what I'm talking about.
So judgmental, mi esposa pequeña.
I'm going to pack.
Have to be in Miami for two days.
Now, if I were you, I would tell that young stallion
to continue to wear protection because you're, what,
20 years older than he is?
And all those nubile young things on the beach
just happened to be you 20 years ago.
Just thinking of your protection.
Chin chin.
Hello, Detective.
How long will he be gone?
Two days.
Nora, let's just get out of here.
And do what?
I'm about a step and a half
away from finding that recording, and I will get it.
And if Jack Wolfe shows up dead, I
will have no choice but to arrest you.
Will you?
Believe it.
Just call her off, Nora.
Why?
Because the last thing on Earth I want is to arrest you.
Really?
And what do you want to do with me?
You want to take me away, and we live happily ever after?
Yeah.
Dani, you're such a fool.
We could have everything.
All I want is you.
Then I tell you what.
When Jack turns up dead, you forget about the recording
and arrest Chad.
Then you can have me and the money.
Jealous man can always be used for something.
Is that right?
Ugh.
You're the one I wanted.
You're the one I've always wanted.
If you want to stop it, shoot me, arrest me, shoot Jack.
But just do something.
Because if you don't, I'm trapped.
I don't have a choice.
All right, good.
You're sulking.
Sulking makes you look suspicious.
Come on, perk up.
Give me that, the girls love me, face.
Come on.
Yes.
Perfecto!
You handsome devil.
Why are you sulking?
Oh, man, I think she was with that guy
again the other day when you were in Miami.
You know, the gardener saw them go into your place.
What guy?
Well, the cop who hit me, man.
No!
Yeah!
Shocking!
Well, what do you think?
Well--
Uh-uh.
Are you jealous that she's playing
hanky panky behind your back?
No, dude.
No.
See, it's with the cop.
I mean, what if she says, you know, if Jack winds up dead,
you bust Chad, and then she and him go and boogie
down to the Bahamas, man?
That's outstanding, Chad!
Excellent, my boy!
You see, you've only been my adopted son for a short time,
and already your IQ is up.
Thank you, man.
But allow me to posit another idea that could perhaps
be even more problematic.
What's more problematic than getting arrested, dude?
Oh, what if Nora decides to dump you,
and then she remembers that Chad is the only person who
knows I'm guilty of murder?
Therefore, she says to herself, Chad's
the only person who can put me in prison
for the rest of my life.
Then she says, I've got to--
I gotta kill Chad.
Positively, Jean, my son.
Lovey, I don't know if our Chad has confided this to you or not,
but I suggested to him the other day
that after he and I fake my death, that both of us
should kill you.
Then Jean gets the money.
And naturally, he shares it with dear old papa.
I think he's taken quite a shine to the idea.
You know, he doesn't trust you anymore, querida.
Quite frankly, he's afraid of you.
Is he?
Mm-hmm.
But you know I never hide anything from you, mi amor.
I know you think I'm a liar, duplicitous.
But I think I am the most constant of life's companions.
I say we stick to the original plan.
Pin my murder on Chad, split the money,
and I give you the ultimate gift of love.
I set you free.
I swear to God, Nora.
I love you.
I do.
I know you think I'm lying, but I do love you.
Siempre, amore mio.
I love you because you and I are exactly the same.
The world judges us harshly, but I don't judge you at all.
Even when I know you and lover boy are planning to kill me,
I know and I don't judge you.
God, I hate this.
Oh, no, no, no, no.
Shh.
Hush, little kitten.
No.
It's all right.
So tell me.
Even when I know you're going to kill me, what should I do?
Hmm?
In my place, Nora, what would you do?
Kill me.
Hmm.
See?
I never lie to you.
No, you never lie.
All right.
So let's plan my death.
Put this in the engine room, and hurry.
You've got 15 minutes.
Jean, I'm proud of you, son.
Jack?
Promise me that you'll consider this, Nora.
'Cause if not, then I'll have no choice but to help him kill you.
No more games.
This works on the parasympathetic nervous system.
It's called pilocarpine.
I've had some experience with it.
But she won't feel a thing.
Her throat will constrict.
She'll choke a bit.
And there'll be some gasping for air.
It's called paraldehyde.
Toxicity level 5, reaction time immediate.
His heart spasms, head feels like it's about to explode.
There will be bronchial constriction, wheezing.
The muscles will twitch.
The pulse will slow.
And convulsions will ensue.
You hit him with it in the shoulder or in the back,
wherever.
Et voila, death by asphyxia and cardiac arrest.
One shot, et voila.
It's over.
Well, you see, Lovey, I attach the yellow wire here,
like so, and the blue one into here.
In this scenario, I tell Chad--
Bomb in the engine room.
I'll be waiting for you.
All right?
Come on.
Get it done.
We can get the hell out of here.
Awesome, man.
You're done?
All set, man.
He trusts me implicitly.
Such a lovely boy, but thick as a brick.
Yes, got it.
His name's Perez.
Who?
Jack's flunky.
He's too cheap to pay anybody anything without getting
a tax write off for it.
See here?
He listed someone named Anibal Perez
as a gardener for his business.
Here's the same Anibal Perez listed
as a handyman two years later.
And here is the same Perez listed as a janitor.
Now all we need is an address.
Then we get the voice recorder and kill Jack.
The guy's name is Perez.
Anibal Perez.
You got an address for us?
No, no.
I don't know no address.
Jack tampered with it.
He'll tell you to set the timer for 15 minutes
while he waits in the dinghy.
But it'll explode after 3 minutes.
So once you get him on the boat, hit him with the paraldehyde.
And then use this.
Put both bombs on the boat, but only trigger this one.
Set it for 10 minutes, which will leave you plenty of time
to get out of there.
The biggest mistake my husband ever made
was showing me how to build a bomb.
That'll be Jack, Mr. Perez.
Now, give me the voice recorder and the videos, or you're dead.
What recorder?
Mira.
I don't know nothing.
I'll count to three.
And either what I want is on its way to my hand,
or your brains are on their way to that wall.
Please, Señora.
What recorder?
1, 2--
Drop it, Nora.
It's over.
You'd kill me, Dani?
Is that true?
You'd kill me?
He wouldn't have to.
I would.
Dr. Castro, the remains of Chad Sellers
were found and shipped by our department to your laboratory
for DNA testing.
They included the fibia and tibia bone, respectively.
They were then matched against hair samples found
in Mr. Sellers' apartment.
And your conclusion was what, Dr. Castro?
The DNA match between the bones
pulled out of the water and the hair sample was positive.
I have not the slightest doubt that those were
the remains of Mr. Sellers.
Likewise, there was a blood splatter
on a piece of decking which was ultimately recovered,
and one tooth, which was also shipped
to your department for testing.
What were the results of those tests?
The blood splatters and the tooth in question,
which, by the way, feature a very distinctive cap that
would only have been available in Cuba between 1945 and 1958,
were positively matched with known DNA samples of Mr. Jack
Wolfe.
Lieutenant Fuentes, the head
of the bomb squad for the San Miguel State Police
for the area of Puerto Seguro.
Is that all correct?
Yes, sir.
Were you able to determine the cause
of the explosion which occurred on the motor yacht Circe
on the morning of the 15th?
Well, there were two explosions, actually,
two separate bombs.
The triggering device, however, seems
to have come from a bomb planted in the engine room.
The marina surveillance caught the whole thing on tape,
and we were able to recover part of the bomb's timing device
from the ocean floor.
Detective, I'm going
to show you a voice recorder.
Prosecution's exhibit 52.
Is this the recorder your partner, Bianca Ortiz,
retrieved from Mr. Perez?
It is.
I will play it.
And what would stop me from murdering you
for real and keeping all of it?
I mean, if you're gonna show me how to do it, what would you do?
Sue me from the grave?
The The defendant will rise.
Nora Wolfe, you have been found guilty of murder
in the first degree.
Do you have anything to say before the court renders
its judgment?
That son of a bitch is alive, Your Honor.
He's laughing at us right now.
The Nora Wolfe, you plotted
the murder of your husband in a cold-blooded fashion.
You entrapped a younger man into your plan,
and he, along with your husband, is now dead.
You have expressed no remorse.
It is the judgment of this court, therefore,
that you be sentenced to life imprisonment
without the possibility of parole.
Court is adjourned.
Please, take a seat.
I appreciate you taking the time to speak with me, Detective.
Our insurance company obviously has a very large interest
in this matter, considering the amount of money
that's at stake for us.
It's not a problem, Mr. Brody.
Now, this Bianca Ortiz, your partner,
is there anything I should know about her?
Probably a lot that you should know about Bianca Ortiz.
See, local legend has it that she
was raised by her grandfather.
Evidently, he ran afoul of some local hoodlum, lost
all his money or something.
And then that local hoodlum turned up very dead.
Problem solved.
And?
Well, the rumor is that Bianca may have had something
to do with it.
She was barely a teenager at the time.
They never found a body.
So who cares, right?
You're suggesting that Bianca Ortiz was somehow
involved in the murder?
Without a body or a killer,
murder is only hypothetical, Mr. Brody.
That and $5 wouldn't buy you a latte on this island.
My question, then, is, why did you let your partner
Bianca in on the bust?
I thought you were keeping the whole thing a secret from her.
There's no secrets here, Mr. Brody.
It's an island.
See, Bianca kept telling me to stay out of it,
like she knew way more about the whole thing than I did.
Turns out she was telling the truth.
She knew every move from the very beginning.
Anibal Perez is my grandfather.
What in the actual fuck you talking about?
He killed a man, a very powerful one,
the kind whose family never forgets.
That's what Jack Wolfe had on him.
Then Jack killed whoever had to be killed.
And after that, he owned my grandfather.
Truth is, he owned my whole family.
Why the hell wouldn't you say something before?
Why would you let us go through this whole fucking thing?
If Jack Wolfe wound up dead,
my grandfather would be free of him.
Why on Earth would I say something to ruin that?
Exactly 30 days after Nora's conviction,
a well-respected banker by the name of Tessler in the fairy
tale principality of Liechtenstein looked up from
the papers spread before him and said--
Well, my dear Jean, at last we meet.
I only wish it would have been under pleasanter circumstances.
I did business with your adopted father for many years.
Though we never met, we corresponded for well
over a decade.
He was enormously proud of you, Jean.
And I of him.
Well, all these documents certainly
appear to be in order.
And with your stepmother's conviction,
you are now the sole beneficiary of your father's insurance.
I hope the money he provided for you offers some solace.
I didn't believe it myself
at first, until your insurance company filed notification
of a payment made to Jean Wolfe through Banque de Crédit.
That's when I resigned from the department,
and I flew to Liechtenstein in order
to question the banker myself.
Turns out the banker Tessler was so
taken with Jean Wolfe's exotic good looks
that his gaze lingered as she crossed out of the bank.
He saw her embrace an elderly Hispanic gentleman and a man
he later positively identified in a photo as Jack Wolfe.
Bianca was part of this whole thing?
From the get go.
See, Bianca's grandfather, Anibal Perez,
he was Jack's flunky.
But Bianca Ortiz was Jack's lover.
See, when she said that Jack owned her whole family
for saving her grandfather's life, what she really
meant was she was part of the deal,
from the time she was a kid.
But Jack's supposed heir
had a birth certificate indicating he was a boy.
Right.
And a later certificate showing that he
had transitioned using gender-affirming surgery
at the age of 15.
See, it's just like Jack said.
Jean Wolfe was an empty vessel into whom he
could pour whatever he chose.
He chose Bianca.
Of course, being chosen by Jack was not without certain risks.
Not long after she collected the insurance money,
a plane en route from Liechtenstein
to the Seychelles islands crashed in the Indian Ocean.
The cause was reported to be a faulty airspeed indicator
and pilot error.
All aboard perished.
Listed as passengers are one Jean Wolfe of Nigeria,
Anibal Perez of San Miguel, and another passenger
traveling on a Nigerian passport under the name of Giacomo Lupo.
Giacomo Lupo is Italian for Jack Wolfe.
Wow.
What do you know?
There's not only a devil, there's a God, too.
That, in fact, is when Nora got religion.
Sister Rachel became the best friend she'd never really had,
someone she trusted completely with her most fervent prayers
and the darkest secrets of her soul.
I think there's kind of redemptive beauty to that,
don't you?
Besides, now I can prove that Nora didn't kill Jack.
And you're gonna finance the appeal to get her out of prison.
Do you think so?
Absolutely.
And like I said, now I can prove that Jack Wolfe isn't dead.
What are you talking about?
Jack killed Bianca and her grandfather,
but he's very much alive.
And he is out there somewhere with your money.
And if you hire me, I'll find them both.
Wolfe is alive?
On what do you base that?
On what they found in the wreckage.
Ironically, Nora is Jack's only known surviving next of kin,
so they sent it to her.
Jack's finger, which means he didn't die in the boat.
So it proves Nora's innocence.
You're a saint, Lovey, an absolute saint.
What about your ring finger, with your wedding
ring still on it so they really have something to identify?
Maybe in his own weird ass way,
he really was in love with her after all,
and left his finger in order to save her.
Though I swear to God I love you.
I do.
Maybe it's just his arrogance,
and he wanted to have the last laugh.
What do you mean?
Like Nora said, both God and the devil are very real.
Only sometimes, the devil wins, and then he gives you
the finger to prove it.
Son of a bitch.
That's what Jack said when he cut it off.
Your old fashioned, sir,
with just a whisper of bitters.
Chin chin.
I loved you longer than I should have
There was no room for no one else
And all the dreams I thought we could have
Became the lies we told ourselves
I held on tighter than I meant to
I was afraid to let you go
Now there's no hope that I'll forget you
Some things you wish you didn't know
Tomorrow there'll be someone new sleeping in our bed
Oh, but you'll be the one that I keep
In the back of my head
Some love is stronger than we know it
It doesn't end when lovers part
It hangs around 'till you outgrow it
Or build a wall around your heart
And even then you can't ignore it
The way your soul entwined with mine
When love is gone, you can't restore it
You learn to grieve it all the time
I held on tighter than I meant to
I was afraid to let you go
Now there's no hope that I'll forget you
Some things you wish you didn't know
Tomorrow there'll be someone new sleeping in our bed
But you'll be the one that I keep
In the back of my head
I loved you longer than I should have
I foolishly refused to see
I wouldn't say that I regret you
I'm sure you'd say the same of me
I loved you longer than I should have
There was no room for no one else
And all the dreams I thought we could have
Became the lies we told ourselves