Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I released her again and plopped down next to her. This chick was exhausting, but shit I was kind of having fun.
Junkies. Who knew?
“I’m Samuel Clearwater,” I said, extending my hand. I didn’t wait for her to take it, instead I picked up her hand off her thigh and shook it hard, as if to show her how introductions were done. My gaze dropped to the tiny patch of light colored curls between her legs. My mouth watered.
Huh.
Dark hair on her head.
Light body hair.
Interesting little druggie.
“But everyone calls me Preppy.” I gave her delicate hand a hard squeeze. “And you are…”
“Andrea, but most people just call me Dre.”
“Like Dr. Dre?” I asked, excited by her unique name. “That’s fucking awesome. Please tell me you have a sibling named Snoop. For the love of all that is holy, please tell me that. Shit, never mind, don’t tell me, I’m just gonna pretend that you do.” Her eyebrows squished together like she was trying to figure me out.
Good-fucking-luck to her. She wouldn’t be the first one.
“So Dr. Dre, you strung out?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Fuck off!” she spat, turning her head. I grabbed her chin and forced her to face me.
“I can fix that for yoooouuuu,” I sang. Her lips parted. “I can get you what you need to turn this little frown upside down.” I released her chin.
“You just pointed out that I’m strung out, but you’re offering me a fix?” Her pupils dilated, like the junkie part of her already knew the answer to my question.
“Listen, I could take you to a twelve step meeting or I could offer you an all expense paid trip to rehab, but if you haven’t noticed, I’m not your parents, or Dr.-Fucking-Phil, so that’s not gonna happen. A life changing solution, I ain’t got. But H? H I can get you with one little phone call.” She turned her head to the side. “So. What’ll it be, Doc?”
“What do you want??” she asked, and that’s when I knew she was considering my offer. Although, there was more to it than that. MUCH, MUCH MORE.
“Your buddies.”
“What…what are you going to do to them?”
“Does it fucking matter?” I asked. “Let’s just say that they aren’t going to be offered an all expense paid trip to rehab either.”
“Tell me,” she begged, perking up and sitting straighter. She grabbed my arm and squeezed. “Please, just tell me the fucking truth.”
If anything, I’ve always been “overly honest” so the truth wasn’t a problem for me. It poured easily from my lips and Dre listened intently as I told her, “I’m going to slit their throats, take my motherfucking plants back, call for someone to clean up the bodies so I don’t get my khakis dirty, and probably come back up here and smoke a joint afterward. Maybe snort some blow if I feel like a party. Haven’t really decided yet, depends on my mood.”
Dre didn’t respond right away. She seemed lost in thought, staring over the railing as she mindlessly reached up to her neck, pushing back her hair and exposing a fresh bruise/welt combo in the shape of a large hand print. She ran her fingertips over it and her eyes welled up with tears.
I’d only followed her from Mirna’s because she was a lot slower than those other two cunt-buckets, and I’d thought she’d eventually lead me back to them.
What I hadn’t realized was that she wasn’t just running from me.
She was running from them, too.
“I don’t want the H,” she said, shocking the ever-loving-shit out of me.
“You’re not a very good junkie,” I pointed out.
“I’m not a junkie. I’m a junkie at the end of her rope, which until this very moment, I didn’t know were two different things, but they are a lot different.”
“Yeah, I kind of noticed that while you were circling the drain up there,” I said, again pointing to the ledge. She didn’t look, instead she closed her eyes tightly and wrapped her arms around her stomach, like she couldn’t stand to relive what she’d almost done.
“And it’s not that I don’t want it because I DO WANT it. I want it so bad I can taste it, literally, because when you shoot up it leaves a taste in your mouth and I just…” she said, reaching up to touch her lips. “But…”
“But?”
“But what’s crazy is that I DON’T want it even more,” she exhaled a shaky breath. “I’ll deal with my shit, but I was being honest when I said I wanted something else from you. Two things, actually.”
“You’re not exactly in a position to be making demands,” I reminded her, although both me and my curious cock were very intrigued by what this tiny little person could possibly want from me.
“No, I’m not,” she said, her voice filled with something that sounded a lot like new found determination. She looked up, and when her eyes locked on mine I swear it was like I could see her balls growing bigger with every word out of her mouth. “But I’ll take my chances because life isn’t always sunshine and whiskey.”