Winter Solstice in St. Nacho's (St. Nacho's #5) - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,19
I got up and went inside even though it meant leaving Tug alone with his new friend.
He followed me a minute later.
“Hey, um, can I ask you a favor?”
“What?” I’d slapped the load of wet clothes into the dryer and counted out quarters to make sure I had enough to dry the towels.
“Meghan said she’d sell me a pack of smokes, but I don’t have the cash.”
As I pumped coins into the slot, I turned to him. “How much do you need?”
He smoothed his hair back. “Ten bucks.”
“That’s what cigs cost these days?” I lifted my eyebrows.
“No, they’re about eight,” he admitted. “But she’s kind of hard up against it. I guess she needs a couple bucks for a burrito or something.”
“I guess it’s like a tip. Okay.” I started the dryer and followed him outside.
I had cash, and I didn’t begrudge him a pack of cigarettes. I gave him two fives and we waited together while the girl went back to her place and got them.
When she returned, he grinned happily and joined her at the wall some distance away. He shook out a smoke and let her light it. I closed my eyes again and drifted in random thoughts until I felt him drop into the chair next to mine.
“Feel better?” I glanced over as he pocketed his prize.
“God yes. I didn’t realize how much I needed a smoke.”
I nodded. “When Dad quit, he was a monster for weeks.”
“As soon as I smelled hers, I climbed out of my skin.”
“Baby steps.” I folded my hands in my lap. “Tackle new things as you get stronger.”
“Right.” He looked past me to the cars on the frontage road, or maybe he was looking at something beyond that.
When the dryer’s buzzer went off, I stood to collect our things.
“I have to hit the head,” Tug said. “I’ll come back and help you carry everything.”
“Sure, thanks.”
He went to our room, and I went inside the laundry room, where I folded things neatly and stacked them on the clean towels. Tug came back a few minutes later to help me finish. He returned the chairs to the laundry room and carried our clean laundry.
“Thanks for the idea of sitting in the sun. I feel tons better,” he said. “Do you think maybe I turned a corner or something?”
“Echo said it can take up to a week for you to get your bearings, but it would depend a lot on how long you’d used and how much. I guess it’s different for everyone.”
“I should put on fresh sheets, huh?”
“I’ll help.” We each took a side of the bed to make short work of it. “Are you hungry?”
“Right now, I need a nap.”
“That’s good too.” I finished changing the second pillowcase. “I’ve got a book. Let me know if you need anything.”
He smiled at me.
I don’t know what it was about that smile, except it didn’t feel right. The smile was too pleasant. It was too practiced. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was the same smile he’d given the girl earlier. The smile of a con man.
My heart sank.
“Mm. Nothing like a good book.” He stripped to his boxers and slid between the sheets. He pulled one pillow beneath his arm as if he was snuggling up to a lover. The other went beneath his cheek. It didn’t take long for him to fall into a deep sleep.
He looked so lovely—sun-warmed and sleep tousled—that I had to look away.
When I knew he was too deeply asleep to wake easily, I made my way as silently as I could to the place where he’d left his trousers and shamelessly slipped the cigarette pack free of his pocket. Inside, there were no cigarettes. None. Just a small baggie with a couple pills. A little research on my phone turned up what they were: Vicodin.
I imagined he’d taken two and left two for later. I don’t know who I was angrier with, him for playing me like that or myself for falling for it.
Ten dollars didn’t buy four pills. The stupid blonde probably fell for his charm and gave him a deep discount. Maybe he’d promised her a little deep something else in return. That phony goddamn smile of his probably got him whatever he wanted.
Two Vicodin would barely make a dent with the addiction he had. He’d sleep for an hour or two and then he’d wake up and take more, want more, need more.