Chapters (95)
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- Eighty-Four
- Eighty-Five
- Eighty-Six
- Eighty-Seven
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Also by David Swinson
- Thank you for buying this ebook, published by Hachette Digital.
“You need to take a hit off some of your shit?”
He’s shocked to hear me say it. And he doesn’t know how to answer, like I’m playing him.
“I’m serious,” I tell him.
“I could sure use the help.”
I cuff his hands at the front, give him the stem and the lighter, and slide the baggie over so he can reach it.
“Blow that shit away from my face.”
I roll the chair back so I’m not close to him. His hands are shaking, but he manages to pull out a little less than a dime rock and carefully place it in the part of the stem that has a pipe screen. Lights up, and after a big inhale, he comes back to life. Probably what I look like, but not as cartoonish. I wonder if it’s a better high, though. I sure as hell don’t want to find out. I don’t need that gnawing on my insides.
He blows it out, away from me, quickly takes another big toke, faces me after, and says with a cough, “Thank you.”
“Was it like the first time?” I ask him.
“What do you mean?”
“Smoking it just now. Does it still feel like the first time you tried it? I mean the high. Or are you still chasing it?”
He looks at me with furrowed brows. The fuck? I imagine he’s thinking. Fact is, I really want to know. It’s never like the first time for me. It just keeps me from falling back into darkness.
“I don’t know. I don’t think it ever really is,” he says awkwardly. “Don’t matter.”
“Why?”
“Never will.”
Damn. Still, I know the high won’t last for more than a few minutes, so I don’t waste it.
“Now tell me. Why did you hit my house?”
“I’m already screwed, right?”
“Not necessarily. There’s always a way out. And don’t you think me letting you have that hit means I’m open to letting you find a way out?”
“Yes, I guess so. I mean, I don’t know any cop who’d let me do that in front of him. Not even Officer Jasper. Unless you’re the one playing me.”
“I told you I’m not like him. I got my way of working things, but I’m nothing like that piece of shit.”
I want to tell him that I understand him more than he knows.
Tiny beads of sweat break through the skin on his forehead, even though it’s cool in here. He starts grinding his teeth.