Nothing to her.
Just a toy to pass the time with.
I’m about to snap the steering wheel in two from the rage when the jerkoff behind me lays on his horn.
“Fuck you!” I yell into the rearview mirror, then let up on the brake and start rolling along with traffic. This day has turned to shit.My lifehas turned to shit. Not that it was any great shakes before I met Alana, but losing her just makes it all the more pitiful now.I am going to lose her.I guess I always knew that somewhere deep down. She’s too smart, too rich, too out of my league.
Someone like me doesn’t deserve her.
I drive past the restaurant, and in a vain attempt, I try to spot her though the windows, but it’s too crowded and dark.
“Fuck!” I punch the steering wheel as the pain slithers up and takes hold. Strangling me. Suffocating me. Destroying me.
Just as I pull back onto the main road, my phone rings. It’s a distant, faraway sound. I almost don’t notice it as my thoughts drown in the image of Alana with another man. A man who makes her smile. A man who can give her everything.
I can give her nothing.
“Hello?” My voice is tight. Thick with emotion.
“Ryan? It’s Tasha. I found him.”
“Where is he?” I ask immediately.
“With Jobe.” Her two-word answer nearly sends me over the edge. Jobe. Resident crack head and drug dealer. We went to high school with him. He used to be a great kid, just like Sean. Then they got involved in that fucking shit, and both their lives went to hell.
“Is he still in Asbury?”
“Yes, same house.”
Crack house.
“Fuuuuck. Okay, thanks Tash.”
“No problem, Ryan. Glad I could help,” she finishes sadly. I feel sorry for her. She has it bad for him. I hang up and text Mac immediately:
Sean
The four-letter wordis all I have to say. He’ll know what it means, and he’ll cover for me. I won’t be going to work tonight. Or probably any other night for the rest of the week.
* * *
I drive through Asbury Park.And not the nice part either. Not the part the tourists visit by the beach with dining and shopping. No, I’m going to the part they never see. The part you shouldn’t drive through without a bulletproof vest.
I know where Jobe lives, or should I say squats. It’s a rundown old house with boarded-up windows, peeling paint, and no electricity. Not that you really need any when you’re doped up on heroin. I park outside and do a quick job of putting the windows and doors back on my Jeep. It’s not a great deterrent, but at least it doesn’t scream “steal me”.
I hop up the front steps and bang on the door, probably scaring all the crack heads half to death. I smile to myself.
“Jobe! It’s Ryan!”
I bang again. If he doesn’t answer, I swear I’ll bust it down.
A few slow seconds later the door creaks open, and Jobe peeks his head out. He’s a scraggly motherfucker. How anyone can live like he does is beyond me. My skin crawls just looking at him.
“Where’s Sean.” No, it’s not a question. It’s a demand. And he knows it.
Jobe looks at me vacantly through dark eyes, and then cocks his head back. I push through the door and walk into the disgusting house. It’s dirty, dingy, and stinky. Nothing’s changed. There are people passed out on the cold wood floor, and those who are conscious look at me with the same removed stare as Jobe. It makes me so sick I just want to punch through the walls until the structure crumbles to the ground.
I make my way to the back of the house and into the room where I know I’ll find Sean. This isn’t our first time at the rodeo. And he’s exactly where he usually is, passed out on a grimy mattress with a dirty needle on the floor. I want to puke and weep all at the same time. This is my brother. The guy who used to be my best friend. The one who stole cookies when we were hungry, and talked to girls when I was too shy. The guy who shares my DNA and looks exactly like me, but couldn’t be more my opposite.
“Hey.” I kneel down and shake him firmly. “Sean?”
He’s out for the count.
I run my hands through my hair, grabbing the strands tightly between my fingers. I know what I have to do.
I pat him down, making sure nothing is going to poke me by surprise. Then I grab his arm and haul his dead weight up and over my shoulder. I walk back out through the house, praying my Jeep is still there. Once outside, I dump Sean into the passenger side and recline the seat. I quickly hop into the driver’s side and take off, out of one nightmarish ghetto and straight into another.