Winter Solstice in St. Nacho's (St. Nacho's #5) - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,10
bring you a plastic bag for dirty laundry.”
“Shit.” He blanched when he saw the mess. “Get out and let me clean.”
“Thanks.” I breathed a serious sigh of relief when I left the bathroom. The bedroom smelled only a little better, but it was enough. I’d have opened the door, but honestly, the place was such a dive I worried what might fly or crawl—or walk—in if I did that.
A glance in the mirror over the dresser told me I looked pretty rough myself. I needed some air.
Tug returned from the bathroom wearing a towel.
“I’m going to step outside for a minute. There are clothes in the bags I brought. Cup noodles and snacks if you’re hungry.”
“I’m not.” If possible, his face paled further. “How long was I out?”
“Ten minutes.”
His shoulders drooped but he bounced on the balls of his feet.
“Still hurt?” I asked.
“Everywhere.” Clammy looking sweat began to bead on his forehead.
“I’ll be just outside if you need me.” I took my phone but not my tablet.
If Tug wanted to, he could pick up the land line and have heroin delivered. He could steal my shit or knock me over the head and sneak away. There wasn’t anything I could do about that.
My rather limited choices left me feeling free-ish.
I walked to the vending machine and bought myself a coke.
Bring on the sugar and caffeine, yo. We’re all addicts of a kind.
After a bit, I knocked and offered him another clonidine.
“Here, take this. It’s time.”
“Not gonna stay down.”
“I’ll research what to do in that case. It’s supposed to help though.”
“This is so miserable.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You’re right. But I was in the hospital for a while when I was a kid. I know what it’s like to be sick and in pain.”
“What happened?”
“Got hit by a car. I was between school and home, and I remember being really scared. I thought I’d die before my mom even knew I was hurt. There’s no comparison, but I know what it’s like to be down and hurt everywhere.”
“That sucks.” Tug closed his eyes. “I didn’t know that happened.”
“You probably weren’t even in school then. An ambulance came and took me to the hospital while the police talked to witnesses and tracked Mom down, but I didn’t know any of that. She and Dad closed the shop and came as soon as they found out, of course.”
“Of course.”
I ignored his sarcasm. “Thing is, I was supposed to wait and walk home with my older brothers and sister. Mark and Chloe were in middle school, and Ben was in high school at the time, but they always picked me up, and we walked home together. I was pissed off about something, so I didn’t wait for them. I don’t even remember what. I snuck away while they were looking for me.”
“Were you a bad boy, Luke? Can’t picture it.”
“They remind me often that I was stupid, but I had the green light. I was in the crosswalk. It would have been fine only I was short, and it was one of those asshole trucks with big wheels that hit me. Driver never even saw me.”
“Bet they gave you the good drugs, huh?”
“I don’t know. Maybe?” Tug didn’t look so good. I went to the bathroom and wet a washcloth. “Here. Lie down with this on your forehead.”
“Not going to help.”
“Humor me.”
“What I don’t get is if you had the drugs back then, how come you don’t chase that high now?” He blinked up at me with wide, watery eyes. “You’ve tasted it, right? That drop when everything falls away.”
“I think they had me under for the surgeries, but I was out of it most of the time. I don’t remember ever thinking this feels good. I hurt all over.”
“Guess it’s different when they give it in the hospital.”
“Maybe so,” I mused. “How long have you used?”
“Four years, maybe? I played around with party drugs in high school. I tried pot, molly, meth, ecstasy, and LSD. Then I did oxy and fell in love, but it was expensive and left me vulnerable on the street. A friend helped me get sober once, and I did okay for a while. Relapsed, thinking I was going to be all smart and recreational, and as long as I didn’t use oxy, I’d be okay. It didn’t take long before I went back though. Heroin’s cheaper, and the high is…”
“You never OD’d before?”
He shook his head. “Never been this sick before either.”