I lift a shoulder.“There’s someone for everyone.”The someone for me is Jessika.
“Fuckin’ A, man.Must be.Did you ask if she’s his cousin?”He snickers.
“You’re a real sick fuck.Has anyone told you that lately?”
“My cellmate.”He grins and I shake my head.
“Did you make any coffee?”
“Isn’t that Faye’s job?”
“Not anymore.”
“You two having a lover’s quarrel or some shit?”He shoves a handful of bacon in his mouth, talking with his mouth full.
“I don’t know what we’re havin’.”
“What’d you do?”
“Why does it have to be me that’s done something?”I grab a new filter, measure out the coffee grounds, and start the pot.
“It’s the pretty little thing you brought from California, isn’t it?Tell me I’m wrong.That bitch.”He blows out an ear piercing whistle.“Damn, man.I’d like to tap that.”
“Thought you wanted to make some money?”I change the subject to get his focus off Jessika before I have to murder him.
“That’s what I’ve been saying.What you got for your big brother?”
“We’re the same age, dumbass.”
“Mom popped me out of her cooter first.”
“Why do you gotta say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“You make it sound like you were shot of a fuckin’ cannon or something.”
“Maybe I was.”
“And dropped on your head.”I grab a to go cup from the cabinet.
“Where’s mine?”
“You didn’t make me any bacon.”I flip him off and light up a cigarette.
“What’s this job?”
“Someone left a finger at Wet Willy’s.Find out who?”
“Did you call Fletcher?”
“Catfish did.I’m sure if the three of you put your shithead brains together, you can figure it out.”
I start out the door when he hollers, “You didn’t give me any money.”
I go for my credit card, forgetting I never got it back from Low.“Willow has my card.Guess you’ll have to go to Grannie Mags to get it.”
“Forget it,” he says in a huff.
