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Chapters (110)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY J. TODD SCOTT
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. I
  7. II
  8. PART ONE
  9. ONE
  10. TWO
  11. THREE
  12. FOUR
  13. FIVE
  14. SIX
  15. SEVEN
  16. EIGHT
  17. NINE
  18. TEN
  19. ELEVEN
  20. TWELVE
  21. PART TWO
  22. THIRTEEN
  23. FOURTEEN
  24. FIFTEEN
  25. SIXTEEN
  26. SEVENTEEN
  27. EIGHTEEN
  28. NINETEEN
  29. TWENTY
  30. TWENTY-ONE
  31. TWENTY-TWO
  32. TWENTY-THREE
  33. TWENTY-FOUR
  34. TWENTY-FIVE
  35. TWENTY-SIX
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. THIRTY-FIVE
  45. THIRTY-SIX
  46. THIRTY-SEVEN
  47. THIRTY-EIGHT
  48. THIRTY-NINE
  49. PART THREE
  50. FORTY
  51. FORTY-ONE
  52. FORTY-TWO
  53. FORTY-THREE
  54. FORTY-FOUR
  55. FORTY-FIVE
  56. FORTY-SIX
  57. FORTY-SEVEN
  58. FORTY-EIGHT
  59. FORTY-NINE
  60. FIFTY
  61. FIFTY-ONE
  62. FIFTY-TWO
  63. FIFTY-THREE
  64. FIFTY-FOUR
  65. FIFTY-FIVE
  66. FIFTY-SIX
  67. FIFTY-SEVEN
  68. FIFTY-EIGHT
  69. FIFTY-NINE
  70. SIXTY
  71. SIXTY-ONE
  72. PART FOUR
  73. SIXTY-TWO
  74. SIXTY-THREE
  75. SIXTY-FOUR
  76. SIXTY-FIVE
  77. SIXTY-SIX
  78. SIXTY-SEVEN
  79. SIXTY-EIGHT
  80. SIXTY-NINE
  81. SEVENTY
  82. SEVENTY-ONE
  83. SEVENTY-TWO
  84. SEVENTY-THREE
  85. SEVENTY-FOUR
  86. SEVENTY-FIVE
  87. SEVENTY-SIX
  88. SEVENTY-SEVEN
  89. SEVENTY-EIGHT
  90. SEVENTY-NINE
  91. EIGHTY
  92. EIGHTY-ONE
  93. EIGHTY-TWO
  94. EIGHTY-THREE
  95. EIGHTY-FOUR
  96. EPILOGUE
  97. I
  98. II
  99. III
  100. IV
  101. V
  102. VI
  103. VII
  104. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  105. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  106. Excerpt from LOST RIVER
  107. LITTLE PARIS
  108. DILLON
  109. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  110. What’s next onyour reading list?

That blinking light meant Johnnie had a short message in Spanish, and about thirty minutes to return a call to the man who’d left it, a man whose name he didn’t know. That man—who worked for the indios from Acuña, who answered to an even more important man they all called El Indio—wouldn’t be calling him again about this shit out on the road, so it had to be something else. Something serious. Another piece of his ass. He shook his head and realized that he’d already lost his first bet of the night.

It wasn’t either of his women who’d texted him first.

He was, in fact, the unluckiest goddamn son of a bitch he knew.

Deputy Johnnie Machado went to the trunk of the Charger and grabbed the can of gas he’d stowed there six hours earlier. He walked back toward the Malibu, shaking his head at his run of bad luck, wondering when the fuck it would finally turn.

When would it finally, mercifully end? It had to, right?

When he got to the Malibu, he popped the matchstick out of his mouth—finally time to put it to good use—as he poured gas over the car’s hood.

PART TWO

NARCOMANTA

THIRTEEN

Eddy Lee Rabbit felt like hammered shit.

Eddy wasn’t exactly sure what that meant: “hammered shit.” But he’d grown up hearing it from his old man, and it seemed pretty damn appropriate right now.

Like . . . the way the lights were way too bright, drilling right into the soft parts of his skull. And how his court-appointed lawyer’s teeth were too white, too big for his goddamn head. The same lawyer who was now sitting there doodling on some paper, instead of calling off these two attack-dog deputies. If Eddy didn’t know better (and to be honest, he didn’t), he would have thought his lawyer was in cahoots with them (“cahoots,” another one of his old man’s dumbass words). The three of them seemed determined to jump up and down on him until he admitted to some shit that he actually didn’t do, or at least sure in the hell didn’t remember.

Maybe that was the whole “hammered shit” thing.