He seized in the cafeteria during lunch. Convulsed on the linoleum while the lunch line stood frozen. I watched every second of it. Helpless and complicit in a way I've never been able to fully name.
The image is seared in. It doesn't scrub off.
"Is B still running things?" I ask, voice low.
"Nah. That creep finally got locked up for good. Good riddance. We only move clean product now, no more of his corner-cutting garbage."
Dark satisfaction curls in my chest. Good. Fucker deserved worse.
"I'll think about it. Ma's meds keep climbing and her doctor's slashing the script every refill. Insurance plays hardball on coverage and we cover whatever's left straight out of pocket, which isn't much."
"What's she taking these days?"
"They switched her to that newer painkiller. Combo pill, codeine and Oxy, marketed as less addictive with some low-risk spin. Plex, I think they call it."
Raul goes still for just a half-second. "Plex. Yeah, that's moving steady on the street right now. Big demand. And I'm not shocked insurance is screwing with it either — word is the pharma company's tangled up in some major lawsuit."
I let that sit. "Damn. News to me."
I rub the back of my neck. Think about it. "You guys still doing security work too? Parties, clubs?"
"Sometimes. Why, that more your speed?"
"Right now? Yeah." I exhale slow. "I still see that kid's face every time I close my eyes. The way his pupils rolled back. His skull hitting the floor. It's going to take time before I can stomach running again."
Raul's hand lands on my shoulder, grip firm. "I get that, man. I wouldn't have been able to handle it either." He says it quiet, without the usual deflection, and I let myself believe he means it.
"I'll keep you posted," I say as we pull back up to his trailer. Cold and basic, but he calls it home. "I appreciate you."
"Yeah, of course. We're family." He hops out, duffel over one shoulder, disappearing into the dark.
Nearly 3 AM.
I'll be home by 3:15. Ma needs picking up at 4:30. There's no version of sleep that's worth chasing for an hour and fifteen minutes, so I don't bother. I lace up instead. Water bottle filled. Headphones in.
Ramen & OJby Joyner Lucas bleeds into my ears as my feet hit the pavement.
Thoughts avalanche in the dark. Ma. Plex. The lawsuit Raul mentioned. The kid on the cafeteria floor. The $120 in my pocket and what it cost to earn it. The choices that keep circling back no matter how fast I run.
I run faster.
CHAPTER 4
HARVEE
My 6 AM alarm goes off and I am not ready for it.
But it's Thursday. Trial day. I set it earlier than usual so I'd have time to actually pull myself together for a courtroom, and I roll out of bed and into the shower before my brain can negotiate otherwise.
Dark gray tailored suit. Blush pink blouse. I clip my long blonde hair into a French twist and keep the makeup light. Blush pink pumps to match. One last look in the mirror.
Ready.
The drive is quiet, which I'm grateful for. It's just past seven and the sun is barely clearing the skyline, light catching the mist that the humidity has laid over the horizon like a veil. My curls are already staging a revolt against the French twist. I let them fight it out and pull into the parking lot of a coffee shop I've been meaning to try.
Freddy's Cafe.
The smell hits me before the door finishes swinging open. Fresh-brewed coffee and espresso, layered and warm, the kind of aroma that does the work before the caffeine even gets the chance. Corporate chains never smell like this. I breathe it in and feel something loosen in my chest.