Wind Therapy - A.J. Downey Page 0,14

next three days. In. That. Order.

The bathroom door opened back up, and I breathed deep before sitting up forcefully and asking Marisol, “You know how to make coffee?”

She made a face at me like I was stupid or something and said, “Yeah.” Without any further lip or preamble, she went behind the bar and started rooting around to get the coffee maker in the back corner going.

She was somewhat of a self-starter, good to know. I got into my jacket pockets and pulled out this prescription bottle with the label peeled off. In it was a mix of shit. Some MDMA or Vitamin E for personal use, some 24-hour decongestant allergy pills, a few ibuprofens, and a couple of Captain Cody’s or Tylenol with Codeine from up over the border.

I kept the shit I took relatively low-key. I stayed the fuck away from the hard shit like meth, coke, and opioids. Hardest I went was MDMA, weed, and if I was really feeling froggy? Maybe some Alice Boomers – what the old hippy motherfuckers called magic mushrooms.

I also kept my shit to myself and didn’t share, unless it was with Dahlia and I never rolled on any E around her. Molly got me way too in the mood to fuck, so it was only around club girls or a readily available bitch willing to put out that I let myself get high on that shit. Still, it was usually only when I was super stressed and needed to check out for a few hours that I hit the Vitamin E. Molly tended to mellow me the fuck out like nothing else when I came down off it and with how long I was in the throes of the effects? Yeah, well, weed was my usual go-to, let me put it that way. Also, weed was legal in these parts so it was safer to have it on me on the regular.

The two Molly I had on me were from Goner and were headed straight for my stash at home. If she got curious, I would indulge her, but I wasn’t one to pressure anyone into trying something that wasn’t their thing.

I shook out one of the decongestant allergy pills out onto my palm and sealed the bottle back up, stuffing it back into my pocket. I sighed and went to swing my legs over the side of the table so I could get down when a glass of water appeared in my field of vision.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, taking it from Marisol’s hand. I looked up and her countenance was cool, calm, and collected. The look in her eyes sharp as she gave me a sharp nod. I popped the pill and washed it down, watching her return around the bar to finish getting the coffee going.

I drained the glass and got up, my own bladder experiencing some urgency now that I was awake.

I took myself in to drain the ol’ lizard and to splash some cold water on my face. I would kill for a fucking shower, but this would have to do for now. I could kind of only imagine how Marisol would feel by the time we got off the road.

It was a solid three hours from here to my place, just off Delridge edging into West Seattle. I was going straight home, too.

I felt like I was just completely assed out mentally. Like, I needed a fucking break. The wheel was spinning, but the hamster was dead as far as I was concerned. I just didn’t have two thoughts to rub together anymore.

Of course, there was no rest for the wicked, and the distant rumble of bikes pulling up out front was an all too loud reminder of that right now. I straightened up, grabbed for some paper towels, and dried off my face, feeling both slightly more awake and refreshed.

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, mussed hair temporarily tamed and slicked back from a high forehead with the water I’d brushed through it with my hands. It’d turned my already dark brown hair to mahogany. I had a five o’clock shadow just starting to invade the hollows of my cheeks, and goddamn did they look hollow. Didn’t help that I had these high, pronounced cheekbones that could cut fuckin’ glass.

I had an angular jawline, and a narrow-ass chest, trim, though I was by no means weak. I just wasn’t as bulky as some of the other guys. Shredded, yes, and I looked wimpy, but