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.
I pick up the eight ball, which I took from Older, and put it on the coffee table. Grab my knife from my pants pocket and flick it open. I use the tip of the knife to pick up a bit of powder. Snort it. Sniff a couple of times.
“Damn, you stepped on that shit.”
I seal the baggie back up and put it in my pack. Grab the wrapped half brick out and put it on the table.
“This, on the other hand, is some seriously good shit.”
Older is scared but still looks like he’s pissed.
Younger is doing his breathing exercises.
“You have any more lying around here?”
Older shakes his head.
“I’m sure you have a little more hidden somewhere, but I’m not gonna be selfish. Well, except for where you keep your money.”
No reaction.
“I’m not going to fucking waste time here. Tell me where you stash the money, and I’m gone, never to be seen again. Fuck with me, and you both suffer.”
I give them both a second, then stand up and lean over Younger.
“Damn, that fucking smells. I’m gonna take the tape off you, but if you say anything other than what I ask from you, I’ll make you drink some of what your grandma left for you, then let you drown in your own puke. Understand?”
Nods several times.
I tear it off, taking some of his peach-fuzz whiskers with it. He whines a bit.
He turns away from the bucket and his brother and heaves thick, yellowish, chunky vomit on the cushion and on himself.
“Ah, that’s worse than the bucket,” I say. “What the fuck did you eat tonight?”
Couple more heaves, then he’s done.
“You good now?”
“Uh-huh,” he answers.
“I mean, I been around. Smelled all kinds of awful, but when I stepped into Grandma’s room, I about puked, too. So don’t feel like you’re less of a man.”
He nods.
I go into my pack and pull out a pair of latex gloves. I pull my tactical gloves off and zip them up in a side pocket of the pack. Slip the gloves on.
“I got almost five hundred cash outta your pockets and that nice new half a brick, so I know you have a good amount stashed somewhere. Where is it?”
Older turns to Younger, shakes his head several times, tries to speak through the duct tape, but it just sounds silly.
I stand up, take the coffee cup, dip it into the bucket. It’s tough, but I bring it out. Some of it dripping down the cup, but I’m careful to keep it from getting on my latex gloves. They both start trying to scoot, but that only shakes up the bucket.
“Sit tight, you shits!” I command.
“C’mon, sir,” Younger begs.