Page 7 of Hellraiser

“You feeling better now?” he inquired.

I nodded, feeling a bit calmer and soothed by his presence and the warmth of his jacket. The ambiguity of the situation still loomed large, but for the moment, I felt a tiny fraction of peace.

“Y’know, I haven’t smoked since college,” I confessed.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you’re holding your own and not over there coughing your head off.”

“I’ve got good lungs,” I said, passing the blunt to him.

He took a drag from it, the look in his eyes playful. “I bet you would’ve been a trip to see high back then.”

I chuckled, remembering one of my high stories from my junior year in college. “I was. There was this one time when I had this philosophy paper due. Of course, I was dragging ass and waited until the night before to start a ten-page assignment. I had zero time management skills back then. Anyway, my roommate and I decided to pull an all-nighter, and she suggested smoking a blunt to get us locked in and focused.”

Dre arched a questioning brow with an amused expression. “Weed to stay focused, huh? Yeah. Sounds like a real smart plan.”

“Yeah. Looking back, it definitely wasn’t the smartest idea, but at the time, it seemed brilliant. We sat in our living room with the blunt in hand, typing away on our laptops. The room was filled with smoke so thick we could barely see our screens,” I reminisced.

Dre chuckled, his locs slightly shaking as he swung his head.

“So, did the blunt help you write a ten-page paper?”

I grinned before taking the blunt back and inhaling deeply.

“Hell no. About halfway through the night, we’d eaten up every damn snack in the apartment, and my roommate started feeling nauseous from all the junk food. She fell asleep hugging the toilet, and I passed out three and a half pages in on the couch.”

Dre belted out a soft laugh, clearly amused by my story.

“Sounds like y’all had a rough ass night. Did you manage to finish the paper in time?”

“Barely. I shot awake a little after sunrise and immediately started trying to decipher what the hell I’d been trying to say the night before. I was writing and rewriting paragraphs until eleven thirty. It was due by noon.”

“Did you pass?”

“Surprisingly, I got an A on that paper, so I guess the weed did influence it. That or the fear of failing when I woke up the next morning.”

Dre continued to laugh. “Yo, that’s wassup. At least all your hard work paid off in the end.”

I smiled. “Yeah, those were the days. It’s nice to reminisce about the sunnier side of things, especially with everything going on.”

“Yeah. Good ol’ memory lane.”

I sighed. “Iknow I’ve said it already, but thanks for helping me, Dre. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

“You’re safe here, Mercy. I promise you that. We protect our own, and right now, that means you too.”

I studied him momentarily, taking in the strong, rugged exterior he’d presented to me. But I sensed something about him, a softness beneath his hard shell.

“You act so tough, but I can tell you have a soft heart under that hard exterior.”

Dre raised a questioning brow, a gleam of curiosity in his eyes. “What makes you think that?”

He passed the blunt back to me, and I took another slow tug, letting the smoke linger in the air as I gathered my thoughts before answering.

“I can only go off energy, and yours is different. I’m a complete stranger. Look at the way you’re looking out for me. You wouldn’t do that if you didn’t have something golden beating behind your ribcage.”

Dre examined me, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “You’re pretty insightful, you know that?”

I shrugged. “I’m a journalist. It comes with the territory. Besides that, I just call shit like I see it. And what I see when I look at you is a man who’s tough on the outside because youfeel like you have to be, but on the inside, you possess a heart of gold.”

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