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He had locked it.
Shit.
I deflated like a balloon. There went my James Bond moment. I thought I’d for sure save the day by finally being brave, finally taking things into my own hands for once. I jiggled the knob some more, the door not budging.
“Move over.”
Hazel smiled at me, a bobby pin in hand, already bent so that it resembled a long, metallic finger. She crouched down and slipped the pin into the small pinhole-shaped lock on the door. She turned and twisted the pin with one hand, keeping the other on the knob, sucking on her lip as she concentrated. My heart started to beat faster and faster. The sooner we got in there, the sooner we could get out. Jesse could have gone for a walk around the block for all I knew; he could be getting home any second now.
“I think I’ve… got it.” The lock clicked, the knob turned, and the door creaked open.
Right there, on top of the chipped and broken drawer he had pushed up against the wall, were rows and rows of small plastic bags, filled up with white powder, some of the bags being filled up with blue powder.
My eyes bugged out of my head. “Holy fucking shit.”
Hazel looked over my shoulder, echoing my statement.
And then another lock clicked. Hazel and I looked at each other like two frightened squirrels hearing the sudden and terrifying purr of a hungry house cat.
I almost tripped as I grabbed the door and slammed it shut. Hazel jumped onto her feet and practically ran into my bedroom. I turned to follow, but Jesse entered before I could disappear, calling out my name.
“Sam! We need to talk.”
“Later, Jesse.”
I turned to see him standing in the living room, his friend at his side. It was Nick Ricks, a sketchy guy who always looked like he was running away from something, always throwing nervous glances over his shoulder, always with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his oversized jeans. He wore a wide-brimmed black cap almost religiously, leaving me to wonder what the majority of his face actually looked like. He had a tattoo of a bleeding angel wing on his forearm and a few tattoos of different cartoons around his neck, all of them appearing to be pretty new. There was a tattoo on his chest of a cross that appeared to have been done in jail; it was peeking over the low-cut and stained wifebeater he wore. He was already making the apartment smell like a bucket of lit cigarettes. He’d only entered Jesse’s circle recently, and from the start I never got good vibes from the guy. Today was no exception.
Still rushing with adrenaline from our failed snooping session, I shook my head and walked past Jesse, heading into the one bathroom we shared for all three of us.
“We can talk later,” I said, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my shorts so he wouldn’t spot them shaking.
“Where’s Hazel?” Jesse asked.
“She’s out!”
I went into the bathroom and shut the door, clicking the lock shut and turning the water on so I had some noise and my loud-ass breathing didn’t give me away. I knew Hazel would be safe in my bedroom, where I doubted she would come out from. I leaned on the dirty counter and looked into the toothpaste-dotted mirror. My hair had gotten unruly, and my glasses were dirty, while my beard was starting to grow unchecked.
I hadn’t realized how far I’d let myself go… and why all I could think about was what Rocky must have thought of me.
Even with him suspecting me, it looks like he’s still pursuing Jesse.
I splashed some cold water on my face, pushing all thoughts of the asshole detective out of my head. Outside of the bathroom, I could hear Jesse and Nick leave the apartment again, most likely coming for drugs. I wondered if calling the cops would be the next best thing, but the last time a detective was in here (not that very long ago), I was the one who ended up being a suspect.
Calling the cops could wait. For now. I’d check my room and make sure he hadn’t snuck in some kind of insurance policy. Watch there have been bricks of cocaine stuffed into my pillows and I had no idea about it.
I’m pretty sure that was an entirely different kind of tooth fairy.
After that, I wanted to get a haircut so I could look like a human again. Then I wanted to take Jesse up on that conversation he wanted to have with me.
6
Rocky Hudson
A loud honk blared through the air. “Fucking asshole!” I shouted at the car in front of me, which had decided to stop suddenly for some unexplained reason. The car behind me swerved and avoided rear-ending me by a fraction of an inch.
