Page 21 of Broken Warrior
“My sister is keeping him and I don’t want your money.” She sniffles and quickly swipes at her cheeks. “I didn’t want to inconvenience you.”
Code forI don’t want you alone with my son.
“Fucking fantastic. The sooner you get out, the sooner I can get on with my life.” Except it’ll be even more meaningless without Tate and James around making my days brighter.Why can’t I say that to her?“Sounds like you’ve got everything figured out, huh, Tate? Job, phone, borrowing Blondie’s car. Bet you’ve even started looking for apartments. It’s really coming together for you.” And soon enough there will be another guy ready to step into a role I could never fill, one that should be mine but won’t. “As long as it isn’t too much of aninconvenience, I’ve got to go. Ma is reading, already had her midday meds. I’ll be back late so don’t bother keeping anything warm for me.”
I spin on my heel, stomp out the front door, and slam it as I storm out of my house fucking seething.
Not at Tate, not really. I understand everything she said and how she feels. She’s never been in a position to take care of herself or provide for James, never had anything that wasn’t forced on her or given to her. I understand Tate’s desire to do things on her own and carve out her own path, I just wish I was a part of it and that’s why I’m so fucking mad.
She kissed me back, for fuck’s sake.
Tate clung to me like I was her lifeline and she kissed me back like she’s wanted to do it for as long as I have, but instead of telling her that or any of the million other things I should have said, I yelled at her and made her feel like shit for wanting to take her life back from monsters like me.
I yank my phone from my pocket and dial my dealer as I tear down the road. “Fifteen minutes.”
“How much?” Bugs drawls down the line, his words slurred a touch.
“Everything you got.”
“Tall order.”
I gun it harder and push my bike. “Fill. It.”
Bugs chuckles in my ear. “I got you.”
“Good.”
* * *
Several hours later,I’m slumped against the recliner in my drug dealer’s shitty apartment, fighting the nods and still fucking thinking about Tate.
I shouldn’t be able to think about anything at all right now, shouldn’t even be able to move. My heart rate has slowed to a beat just above comatose, and it feels like I have cement in my veins. My eyes have been closed for at least forty-five minutes and I’m almost positive I’ve been drooling just as long. Honestly, I should probably be fucking dead at this point because I’ve snorted so much heroin—including a few speedballs—that it’s a miracle I’m still functioning on even a baser level, but I’m a goddamn tank just like my dad, so I guess unless I want to start shooting up, this is as far as it goes for me.
“What...”is that my voice?Jesus, I sound like shit. “What time is it?” My head lolls in the direction I last remember Bugs being in. “I can’t... open my... my fucking eyes...”
“After midnight...” he slurs, or maybe he whispered it? “Close to one...”
Fuck.
I try to lift my head but it feels like it’s strapped to the chair so I make a genuine attempt at opening my eyes.
No go. They’re glued shut.
I guess I’m stuck until I sober up some.
“Your phone... Spider-Man...”
My phone?
What about my phone?
Do I even have a phone?
Something lands in my lap with a thud and it starts vibrating against my thigh,Call Meby Blondie playing somewhere in the distance.
Good fucking song, man. Blondie was hot back in the day.
“I like this song...” I think I say out loud. “Is a good jam...”
