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When I break the kiss, her pupils have pushed away her irises, and her lips are slightly swollen. I could feast on her for days.
“Breakfast and rest. Yes?” I ask again.
She brings her fingertips to her mouth as she nods. “Yeah. Breakfast.”
“Good girl.” I kiss her cheek. “I’ll be back this afternoon. Be here.”
I leave her in the bedroom, gathering what she needs for a shower, and head out her front door. As I jog down the steps to the lobby, I realize I have only about a fifty percent chance that she’ll be here when I get back.
Mandy
Jack Victmen grewup two houses down from Gunner and me. Gunner looked up to him. When I hit high school, Jack invited Gunner over to play basketball with his buddies on his net. He taught Gunner how to perfect his layup, how to talk to girls, how to get invited to the best parties, and eventually, he taught him where to buy the best drugs.
I should have been paying more attention, but I was in high school. I was busy with dances and chasing boys that wanted nothing to do with me. So, while I chased after popularity that would never come, Gunner chased after the next high.
“You came.” Jack Victmen gets up from the booth in the corner of the diner where we agreed to meet.
“Of course I did.” I ignore his open arms and slide into the booth across from him. “I didn’t expect your text this morning.”
“I texted you last night, but you didn’t answer.” Jack climbs back into the booth. His hair is lighter than when we were kids, shorter since the last time I saw him.
“I was out and wasn’t paying attention to my phone.” Mostly true. I thought it was my imagination. My drunken brain fucking with me.
“Well, I’m glad you answered this morning.” He folds his hands in front of his mug of coffee.
“I don’t have long. Have you seen him? Is he all right? Is he using again?” If Percy was going to reach out to anyone from his past, it would be Jack.
“I haven’t seen him, no.” Jack frowns. The little shake of his head jostles loose a lock of dark hair that falls carelessly over his brow. He wipes it away with a sigh. “But I know you’ve been looking for him. It’s dangerous, Mandy. Where you keep going, what you’re doing. You’re going to get yourself in trouble.”
I scoff. “By asking about Gunner?” I lean forward; the edge of the table presses into my ribs. “He’s my brother, Jack. I have to at least know he’s okay.” My chest twists with the same familiar fear that’s been gripping me since the day I realized Gunner had taken off again. “I just need to know he’s okay,” I repeat.
Jack looks out the window before bringing his eyes back to me. “If you find him, what are you going to do? You going to throw him back in a rehab facility? He’s done those. They don’t work.”
“He’s never completed a program.” I jam my finger into the table. I’d rather be jamming it in Jack’s eye. “You took him out of the last one before he could finish. You did that, Jack. You kept him on your little drug leash.”
His eyes narrow. “I got him out of there because they weren’t helping, they were just making him feel like shit. I already told you that when he left your apartment. He came to me looking, and I turned him away. I haven’t given him anything or sold him anything in years.” He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek. Our conversation is uncomfortable for him. The big bad neighborhood dealer admitting he put the wellbeing of someone over profits has to be somewhat unsettling for him.
“Then what do you want, Jack? Why have me meet you?” I fold my arms over my chest.
The waitress steps up to the table with menus. I decline but Jack grabs one and pushes an empty mug toward her for her to fill it.
Once she leaves, he cradles the hot mug between his hands.
“I heard something the other day. I wanted to be sure it was true before I told you, and I’m not even sure I should be telling you.” He narrows his gaze. “But you’re stubborn as fuck and won’t listen anyway. If you keep wandering around the dark alleys with your questions, you’re gonna get yourself killed.”
My phone beeps in my purse.
“You need to check that?”
“No, it’s nothing.” I pull out my phone to turn off the notifications as a call comes in. Maxim. The arrogance in that man is staggering. I swipe away the call along with the three texts he sent before shoving it back in my purse.
“How do you know where I’ve been looking?” I lean toward him. “You’re not following me around, are you? Or did you see me while you were hiding in a dumpster waiting to meet one of your clients?” It’s childish, these little insults, but I’ve been fighting Jack for my brother’s soul for so long I’m tired of trying to be civil. I just want my brother back.
“You go walking through dark alleys in Manhattan dressed in business casual, you stick out, Mandy. You’ve done it enough, it’s been noticed. I didn’t see you, but a friend of a friend saw you yesterday. She said you were asking about Gunner.”
The girl in the alley trying to feed the cat?
“From last night? She said she’d never seen him before. The guy she was with said the same,” I say.
