Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“You’re here sooner than I thought.” He wasn’t talking about minutes or hours; he was talking fucking days. I pushed past him. I was a getting to be fucking unit. I lifted weights every fucking day. Chris was short and skinny. He never got in my way, no matter how much younger I was than him. “Gotta say, when Rudge sent you my way, I thought it’d be once in a fucking blue moon you came by, like that English fucker. You know, for a bit of coke to unwind. Not this never-ending tap. My fucking bank account’s starting to like you, mohawk.” I walked into his shit tip of a kitchen. He lived in a fucking crack den, disguised as a scrap yard, in the middle of nowhere.
Turning, I closed my eyes. “I need something stronger. The shit you’ve been giving me isn’t lasting long enough. It’s too fucking weak.” I snapped my eyes open and narrowed them on Chris. I stepped toward him. He shuffled back. I could practically smell the fear on him. “You ain’t fucking me over, right? I don’t fucking appreciate you fucking me around with half strength shit.”
“Mohawk,” he said, using the only name he’d ever been given for me. “I haven’t. I swear. You think I’d fuck with any of you Hangmen?”
“Then what the fuck is it? Because they’re back. The fucking dead are back! Slash is back in my room with a fuck off big bullet wound in his head, every night, fucking haunting me every night! The coke took him and the others away. But now he’s back. He’s back all the fucking time, and your coke ain’t doing shit!” I blinked and saw I had Chris up against the wall, his collar in my hands. I let him go and stepped back. “Give me something that’ll take all this shit away.” I thought of all the sluts I’d fucked. And every time I did, all the fucked up images of my poppa and his friends jumped into my head. Memories I needed to forget before they fucking sent me insane!
“Mohawk, calm the fuck down,” Chris said. Rudge hadn’t given him my real name. Chris didn’t know fuck all about me. “Night terrors? That what you want gone?” Night terrors? I didn’t know what the fuck they were. I wasn’t a shrink. I just knew I wanted everything that was fucked up and swirling twenty-four-seven in my head to go. I just wanted my head to be calm. I was sick and tired of feeling shit. I wanted to be numb. Fucking blissfully numb.
Chris walked to his stash cupboard and brought out some packets. He came back over. “I got what you need. The coke ain’t doing fuck all for you anymore. You need something stronger. Lucky for you, I got strong shit.”
Chris pulled at my arm and rolled up the sleeve of my shirt. I yanked my arm back. “Not my fucking arm,” I hissed, knowing what he was about to do, though not caring one bit that it had come to this. Chris nodded. He reached forward and started unbuckling the belt to my jeans. My hand automatically choked his throat in fucking seconds. “You better give me a real good reason why I shouldn’t snap your motherfucking neck in two.”
Chris clawed at my hand. I slackened it enough so he could speak. “Your groin,” he choked out, his voice emerging as a whisper through his narrow windpipe. “If you don’t want track marks on your arm where people can see, you can inject it in your groin.”
I narrowed my eyes on the fucker but let go of his neck and started undoing my belt. I pulled my gun out of my cut and aimed it at his head. “Just in case this is all a twisted plan to suck my dick or some shit.” Chris didn’t move. I pulled down my jeans to my thighs and held out my hand. He gave me an elastic tourniquet.
“Wrap it around your thigh.” I did as he said. “You have to be real careful not to hit the artery.” My jaw clenched as Chris pointed to where the vein was. I looked down and saw the blue trace under my skin. I put the long tourniquet in my mouth and held out my hand. Chris burned the drug in the foil until it was liquid. He put it in the needle and passed it to me. I paused, glaring at the needle. “You saw me take it from the packet. It’s clean.”
“I find out it isn’t…” I warned.
“It is. I swear.” I lined up the needle with my vein. “Inject it in the direction of your heart.” I did as he said and fucking waited. I withdrew the needle from my groin and pulled up my jeans. I waited for something to happen. Chris stared at me, pure fucking fear in his eyes. And then I started to feel it. Like lava thickening in my veins, I started to feel it. And it fucking eradicated everything in its path. Inch by inch of flesh became covered in the lava and it destroyed the memory of my mama hanging in the tree, Poppa crawling into the cellar with me, toys in his fucking hands.