Page 58 of Pawn

“You mean the girls you fuck on this thing?” I ask, watching him roll up a fat joint on the wooden tray in his lap.

He pauses, looking at me like I’ve grown a third arm. “This is an authentic, antique Chinese opium bed, baby.” Licking the joint, he finishes his roll. “Made only for letting it all go.” And with that, he lights it.

When we’re done with the first joint, we smoke another and when Isaac goes to grab another bottle, I continue ignoring Damien’s calls. I’m not sure how much time passes before we’re both stoned and drunk, staring at the ceiling, our backs against the mattress.

“You think Marion’s up there?” Isaac asks, his drawl a slur. “In the clouds?”

“Maybe,” I say, my body fuzzy and warm. “She can say ‘sup to my folks.” Despite that morbid joke, I let out a laugh. Stoned as fuck.

“And Damien’s folks.” Isaac lets out a high-ass laugh too. “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be heading back?”

“I’m not going back there.” Not yet anyway. I know I have to talk this out with Damien and explain the real reason I ran out of there. But he should’ve known better than to put me in that situation over and over again.

“You’re not?” Isaac asks, pushing up from his slump. He’s got a silky purple robe around him but I don’t remember where or when he got it.

“Nope. Show me more of the life of the rich and famous.” Hopping to my feet, whiskey and weed fuel my decision. “Cheesecake. Let’s get some cheesecake. No! A cheese-steak!”

“Yes!” Isaac rises from his seat, gripping to the frame of the bed before he stumbles. “Wait, you don’t even eat meat.”

“Anything with cheese then!” Running through the halls, I almost knock over a painting before I’m outside in the dark at his Rover. It’s already unlocked and once I’m inside, Isaac’s in the driver’s seat shortly after.

I blare the first thing that comes on the speakers. Etta James. “I’d Rather Go Blind.” Isaac has great taste in music and I blast it, belting out the words. He turns it up, dropping the windows as I push my arm and head into the fresh spring air. He sings along with me and while his voice isn’t as smooth as his dad’s, he can totally hold a note. I’m happy to know Damien doesn’t come with all bad. Isaac, one of his best friends is starting to become one of mine too.

Isaac belts the next line at me and I’m singing along. But when I look up at the road, there’s a tree coming our way.

“Isaac!”

He doesn’t hear me, belting a long note at the top of his voice.

“Isaac!” I yell again.

When his head whips forward, it’s too late. “Shit!”

I’m bracing for impact, the tree coming closer and closer.

BANG!

The car stops, the song still playing.

I’m waiting for pain, the shock.

Fire.

Anything.

But nothing happens.

When I open my eyes, I look to Isaac to see if he’s okay. He’s gripping the wheel, eyes on the tree. “Fuuuck,” he lets out, peeking over the dash.

Peering over the dash with him, the front of his car is hardly dented, tapping the tree. I don’t realize how tight my muscles are until my back collapses into the seat, a hand coming through my hair.

A sound comes from Isaac. Looking his way, his shoulders bounce. With his hands still on the wheel, he laughs, forehead falling forward and that’s when I realize he’s still in his fucking robe. Now I’m laughing too and before we know it, we’re both sitting in his Rover, pointed at a tree, laughing like idiots.

“Shit,” he says through his laughter. “Maybe we should get an Uber.”

“You think?” I’m stupid for not suggesting it. I was way too caught up in my own mind, judgment shot by alcohol. “Do you have your—”

“Jo!” The door swings open before there’s a grip on my arm.

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