She Has A Broken Thing Where Her Heart Should Be - J.D. Barker Page 0,49

not?”

“Because, it’s heroin.”

I wasn’t sure what was more disturbing—the fact that my best friend wanted to give my aunt illegal drugs or the fact that my best friend could so easily access and administer those illegal drugs. I knew he could, though. He probably had some on him right now. He’d never use these things himself, but selling them was another story, and he was good at it. He started with small stuff, pot mostly, but it hadn’t taken him long to realize how much money he could make simply by connecting the buyers and sellers. His dad had been out of work for over a year, with little interest in anything other than drinking. Dunk needed a way to pay the bills. Unfortunately, this was it. Two years ago, when he had gotten arrested for shoplifting, I hoped the scare would be enough to set him straight. Instead, the experience only made him more cautious.

“For a smart guy, you sure suck at coming up with a convincing argument. ‘Because’ is not gonna fly here,” Dunk said. “You want her to be comfortable, right?”

“Heroin is addicting.”

“So is oxy, morphine, tramadol, codeine, and all the other prescription crap they’re throwing at her.” He lowered his voice. “She might not have much time left, and if this plays out anything like my uncle, things are going to go south fast. Talk to her doctor. Tell him you can get some. See what he thinks.”

“I can’t ask her doctor about illegal drugs.”

“He can’t tell anyone if you do. It’s part of that doctor-patient thing. He’s bound by an oath.”

“I don’t think it works that way.”

“Ask him,” Dunk insisted. “I think you’ll be surprised by what he says.” He glanced up at the clock. “Christ, it’s four after six—you need to go!”

I frowned at the clock. “Shit. I wanted to change and clean up first.”

“No time for that, Romeo.”

“She probably won’t be there anyway.”

“Probably not,” Dunk replied. “But you gotta check, right? I get it.”

He reached behind his back and pulled out a snub-nosed .38, silver plated with a black handle, and handed it to me. He started carrying it about a year ago. His father’s old .38 was long gone. Dunk figured he pawned the gun like their stereo, but he couldn’t be sure. I never asked where he bought this one.

I shook my head. “Not this time.”

“You didn’t take one last time, and she didn’t show, either. It’s not the gun.”

“I couldn’t use it. If I pulled that thing, they’d see right through me. Stella would probably laugh it off.”

“Laugh off a .38 in the face? I really need to meet this chick.”

Auntie Jo groaned again in her sleep.

“Are you sure you’re okay watching her for a few more hours?”

Dunk glanced back at her. “Where else I gotta be? She’s not much trouble. We got ourselves a date to watch Hangin’ with Mr. Cooper in about an hour, ain’t that right, Auntie Jo?”

“No heroin.”

“No heroin, check. Not that kind of party. Pot’s cool, though, right? Mr. Cooper is funny and all, but he’s the shit with some Mary Jane.”

I rolled my eyes. “I can’t believe I trust you with her.”

Dunk slid the gun back into his waistband. Somehow, that worked for him. “I’m just playing, you know I’ve got this. Go, before you miss missing your girl when she blows you off yet again.”

“Open a window,” I said, heading back out the door.

“I’ll run that past the committee, see how the idea flies.”

I was already down the first flight of stairs and halfway down the next before I heard the door close above me.

It was twelve after six by the time I jumped the fence at the side of the cemetery and started up the hill. I glanced in the direction of my parents’ graves. I felt guilty for not stopping, but there wasn’t any time, not now, anyway.

By the time I reached the top of the hill, my legs ached and my lungs burned. I stopped at the mausoleums to catch my breath. I bent over, massaged my calves, and sucked in air. At my wrist, the hands of my watch ticked forward—6:14 p.m.

I stood and followed the path through the mausoleums. When the empty bench came into view, my heart sank. I really didn’t expect her to be there. I wanted her to be there, I hoped she’d be there, but deep down, I knew she wouldn’t be. Most likely, I’d never see her again.

Dunk said he understood why I