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He looks away dismissing me. “What was she doing around your place anyway? That’s not how it was supposed to go down.”
“I don't know. Her husband was here, I guess she followed.”
Tyler stands. He’s getting antsy. He’s probably going to ask for a fuck. “See— like I said— crazy— now where is my money?”
“Don't worry, you'll get your money.”
“You don't have it, do you?”
“He doesn't want to pay people for a job that's not done. What can I say?”
His look suggests he thinks I’m lying. “Here's what you can say— you tell that motherfucker his wife is crazy— and if he isn't careful and he doesn't get me my money, I might just tell her what he's up to.”
“You know, Tyler, you really don't know me very well. You should be careful about empty threats.”
His narrowed eyes open. “Who said it’s empty?”
“Get out,” I say pointing at the door. “I’ll have your money for you tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” he says. I feel nothing. He puffs his cheeks and exhales. “You should be careful. And not just with the crazy wife. Funny thing about that, Izzy. You don't know me as well as you think you do. I'm not exactly the kind of guy that lets himself just get fucked over.”
Tyler leaves his pipe. I search the kitchen for a lighter, sit down, and take a few hits. I relax into myself. I consider taking the half-empty bottle I stuffed under the kitchen counter for occasions such as this but I check Instalook to buy time. Really, I need to talk to Grant, and I don’t want to be hammered when he calls. I run through my story again. I want to have my facts straight when he calls.
Okay, sure. He wasn’t supposed to let her get the gun. But Tyler is a pussy.
I take a third hit. The smoke settles in my lungs. The tension leaves my body.
We were supposed to scare her. He did at least accomplish that.
I check Instalook again. Still nothing.
Grant should have called by now. Why hasn’t he called? Maybe Josie has gone to the police. Maybe she’s told them about me. Maybe she’s forcing h
im to console her.
Thoughts race through my mind. Pot doesn’t usually make me this paranoid. Grant should have called. He must be pissed at me. He probably wants to end things. Seeing how distraught Josie had to have been, he’s realized how much he loves her. I’m going to be alone forever. Fuck it. He isn’t going to call. Might as well. I go for the vodka. I unscrew the cap and fill a shot glass. I won’t use a chaser. I deserve to feel the burn.
This is not the way it was supposed to happen.
I’m itching all over. Something is wrong. I text Tyler and ask him what kind of weed that was. He texts back: Sucker. Then a smiley face emoji.
I don’t know what this means. My head is swimming. I rub at my eyes. It doesn’t fix the blurriness.
I stand and go into the bathroom. I splash water on my face. It helps. At least now, I can see things. Things like a nearly empty vodka bottle sitting beside Tyler’s pipe. Surely, I didn’t drink all of that. No, I would remember.
My palms are sweaty. My heart races. I’m burning up.
I need to eat something. I need to sober up. I have no idea how much time has passed. Everything seems slow. I check the time on my phone. There’s a text from Grant: We need to talk. Can you come over?
Shit. I was wrong. He does want me. There’s no time to sober up. I have to go now. I walk two doors down to Tyler’s apartment and bang on the door. He opens it slowly and then leans against the doorframe. Inside, I see people strewn about the place. Music is blaring. A guy playing video games turns and glances over his shoulder. He says something to the guy next to him. They both laugh and turn back to their game. Tyler eyes me from head to toe and then runs his hands through his hair.
“Jesus, Izzy.”
“I need your keys.”
He shakes his head from side to side. Very slowly. “Not a chance in hell.”
“You fucking drugged me.”
