Page 21 of Bulletproof Love

Me: Hey, running to the deli for a coffee before we leave. You want anything?

While I wait for his reply, I pull out my frayed wallet and count the cash. One hundred and three dollars. It’s not much, but it’ll do. I’ll have to talk to Leon about some side work. I can’t rely on these stolen credit cards forever, and there’s no way in hell I’m asking my parents for money. They’ve already cashed out their retirement and taken out a second mortgage on the house to pay for Ray and the other useless private investigators.

D: Yeah, grab me a Monster. I’ll meet you over there with the car.

Shit. That doesn’t give me much time. This asshole better be quick. The last thing I need is Damon on my ass. By the time he leaves Blake, walks over to the lot where he parks his car, and meets me, I’ve got maybe twenty minutes, tops.

Me: Got it.

A notification pops up from the dealer.

Be there in five.

Something’s going my way today. That’s a first.

I keep my head down and eyes up as I weave my way through a few slow walkers, probably tourists. I’m hyperaware of every passing car, every siren in the distance, every stare that seems to linger on my face. The bells on a dry cleaner door jingle from a person exiting, making me jump out of my damn skin. I quicken my pace.

Goddamn paranoia.

Every step I take has my stomach clenching.

It’ll be worth it when that blissful wave washes over me.

The meetup is quick. No more than two minutes. I barely even register what the guy looks like before he’s taking off on foot down the street a hundred bucks richer. It doesn’t matter, I got what I came for. Only three pills though. I’ll have to make them last.

I grab our drinks from the deli, taking a plastic straw from the box on the counter. Once I’m back outside, I shove the energy drink cans in my hoodie pocket, and head to the bus bench around the corner. My hands tremble as I go through the motions. Unwrapping the straw and bending it at the end. Carefully slipping the pill into the bent end, and chewing it until it feels like a fine enough powder between the plastic. With a quick glance around to make sure no one is watching me, I snort, feeling the burn that hurts so good.

My eyes instantly water and my nose drips, but none of that matters. Fuck. The head rush feels incredible. My limbs are light, my head is clear. Everything slows down as I move toward the corner again. Like I’m wading through ankle deep water. The world gets softer somehow—the lights, the sounds, even my own thoughts, all wrapped in a warm blanket. I finally remember what it feels like to be okay. To be normal. To not worry about all the bullshit.

But deep in the back of my mind, that familiar whisper starts up again, like the nagging bitch it is. How long will this last? There’s only two left now.

I push the thoughts away. Right now, I’m floating, untouchable, safe. At least until it wears off.

I shove the straw into my pocket, along with the baggie, and right on cue, Damon pulls up, the rumble of his engine louder than the thoughts in my mind. I rub my nose with the back of my hand and hop in the passenger seat.

“No Lee?” I ask, handing Damon his drink. I keep my eyes trained forward, hoping he won’t notice my dripping nose.

“Nah, he wanted to stay back and research those politicians some more.” Damon’s knee vibrates in his seat as he speeds forward. He seems just as jumpy as I was ten minutes ago, and I think I know why.

“The girls leave yet?”

“Not yet. They were heading out right after I left.” He glances in his rearview like he expects Blake to be behind us, waiting for him.

“They’ll be fine, brother. Just relax.”

Does my voice sound normal? I hope so.

“I can’t relax. I fucking hate this city. Too many damn people everywhere.” His fist tightens on the steering wheel as he barely misses hitting a jaywalker.

“I feel you, but hey, we got the night to ourselves. Been a while, huh? Let’s turn up the music, open the windows, and make the best of it.” I mess around with his stereo, the only upgraded thing in his classic Chevelle, but he swats my hand away. I raise it in mock surrender. “I forgot, no one touches your precious music.”

“Damn right,” he says, with a hint of a smirk. He pulls his phone from his back pocket and taps a few times. The opening of “A Day To Remember, The Downfall Of Us All” blasts through his speakers. This song always hyped us up, and right now is no different. I let my head nod back and forth as the wind whips my hair in front of my face. If I close my eyes, I can almost imagine we’re back in college, when life was simple. I hold onto that feeling the entire way to Brooklyn.

* * *

“My dick is goingto get frostbitten,” I groan, rubbing my cold hands together. The wind coming off the bay assaults the sliver of skin exposed in my mask.

Damon shakes his head. “I can’t take you seriously in that thing.”

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