a once-over as he grabs a glass of water, then leaves the room as quickly as he came.
“You okay?” I ask Joey.
He wrinkles his nose. “Fine. Just the new guy creeps me out.”
I look down the hall just in time to glimpse the man turning into the small sitting room. “Why?”
Joey gets along with everybody—that’s his whole thing.
“I don’t know,” he admits. “There’s something about him. Sanjay says that he’s seen some shit, that he got real involved with the guys who are selling purple heroin. I don’t know why he’s here, but I don’t get the impression he’s committed to getting clean.”
Interesting.
“Do you know his name?” I ask.
Joey snags an apple from where I’ve just finished stacking them in the fruit bowl. “Geoff, I think.” He takes a bite and shrugs.
I check the time. I’m due home in half an hour, but my babysitter Ana is usually pretty flexible. I give her a quick call, and she agrees to stay an extra hour. I leave Joey in the kitchen, already working on his second apple, and walk to the sitting room.
Geoff is alone in there. I wonder if he gives the rest of the residents the creeps too. He is sitting on the threadbare sofa watching TV, and his eyes swing to me as I enter, lips drawing back into a sleazy grin.
“Thought I might see you in here,” he says in a croaky voice.
I suppress an eye roll and perch on the ottoman across from him. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions,” I say. “I write a blog on the purple heroin epidemic. I was told you were involved in some of the distribution channels.”
When he doesn’t say anything, I add quickly, “It would be completely anonymous.”
Geoff’s smile sags into a sneer. “You can ask me any question you like. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer it.”
“What do you have to lose?”
“What do I have to gain?” He reaches out and places a hand on my knee. “How about a little tit for tat?”
Ugh. Emphasis on the tit, I presume.
I brush his hand away. “Your interview could help people. Is that not enough?”
Geoff sighs and leans back against the sofa cushions. He flicks the TV off and waves his hand at me.
“Go on then. Ask your questions.”
I pull a notepad and pen out of my purse. “Was your main contact a member of the Irish Mafia or the Colombian drug cartel?”
“They’re basically one and the same these days,” he replies. “But my friend runs with the Irish.”
“Were you selling for them?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nah, just consuming.”
“And what made you want to seek help?”
Geoff grins. “I thought to myself that once I got into a rehab center, some pretty little thing with big tits might drop into my lap.” He pats his crotch. “So come on then. Don’t be shy.”
I scowl, disgusted. “I’d appreciate it if you would take this seriously.”
“And I’d appreciate it if you would suck my dick.”
I’ve had enough. I get to my feet, but Geoff hops up behind me and reaches around to squeeze my breasts. He laughs, and I can smell his breath, hot and acrid. My stomach roils with disgust.
In one swift move, I wrench his arms down as I drop my body weight. Geoff lets out a shout of surprise as he rolls over my back, slamming into the wood floor with a loud bang. He lies there, disoriented, and I press my foot against his windpipe.
“Don’t you ever fucking touch me again,” I growl.
His hands claw at my ankle, trying to pull me off, but I press harder. He makes a weak gurgling sound, eyes whirling around the room.
“And for that matter, if I hear that you’ve laid a hand on anyone in this facility, I will make sure that you regret it. Do you understand?”
He doesn’t answer, and I grind my foot down harder.
“Do you understand?” I demand.
“Yes!” he rasps.
I let him go, and Geoff sucks in a giant gust of breath and rolls onto his side, muttering something about me being a bitch and a tease. He can say what he wants as long as he keeps his mitts to himself.
As I storm out of the sitting room, I find one of the guards standing in the hallway, his hand on the gun at his hip. It is the closest any of them have gotten to me since Gabriel all but banished me, and his sudden appearance is startling.
“Do you know that clown?”