Worth the Chance

Chapter 40

Vince

Slipping the baseball bat I keep tucked underneath the seat of my truck out, I’m careful to keep quiet as I walk around the perimeter of the boarded up house that Jason’s supposed to be in, assessing my new surroundings. A rancid, plasticky smell wafts through the air and confirms I’m in the right place. The unmistakable smell of crack being smoked billows from a broken window, the only one not boarded up and covered in graffiti. Squatters den. A place that people wind up when they think they’ve hit rock bottom, only to find there’s a whole new level down they didn’t even know existed.

The door creeks as I try to slip inside undetected. It’s not the drug addicts I worry about, it’s the trigger happy dealers desperate to protect their stash. A few candles burn lighting the way, electricity likely turned off a long time ago. There’s three or four people sitting around a table with some folding chairs in the kitchen, none of them give a shit I’ve come in.

Two women lie half-baked on a ratty couch in the living room. One’s useless, eyes rolled back into her head, she couldn’t find a door in a fucking fire. The other notices me, gives a halfhearted attempt at a come-hither look and props her head up in her hand.

“You looking for something, honey?” She’s probably only in her late twenties, yet her teeth are rotted brown and it looks like she hasn’t had an easy life. One too many times around the block.

“Jason Buttles. Supposed to hook up with him. You see him?” Scares me how I can drop back into this life, communicate so easily.

“He’s gone. Left yesterday. Said something about a sister up north he was gonna stay with. Some scary dudes came looking for him this morning too. Guess he got out just in time.”

Fuck. “You know where up north?”

“Didn’t say. But if you see him, tell him he still owes Felicia a pack of smokes.”

Yeah, that’s what I’ll do when I find him…deliver your message.

I rummage through the house anyway looking for Jason, learning early in life to never trust the word of a junkie. Unfortunately a few more losers confirm Felicia’s story. Reaching the last closed door on the second floor, I use the flashlight on my cell phone to guide me through the darkness.

An electronic something illuminating in the corner of the bed takes me by surprise. A boy no older than ten looks up, grabbing a long pipe resting on the bed next to him. Holding up my hands in mock surrender, I quickly scope the room looking for any other signs of danger.

“Your mother live here?” I ask, seeing garbage bags in the corner with clothes spilling out all over the floor. Suitcase of the junkie.

Putting down the game he’s playing, but not the pipe, he keeps his distance, but not his manners. “None of your fucking business,” he scowls, foul language rolling from his tongue like it’s an ordinary occurrence.

“I’m not looking for trouble. Was looking for a friend, but I can see he’s not here.”

“Who’s your friend?”

“Jason.”

“Guys a loser.” The corners of my mouth twitch, he’s a hundred percent right, but the kid’s got balls saying it to me.

“You’re right. He is. You live here?”

“For now.”

“Your mother Felicia?” I hope she is, the other one’s a bigger disaster.

“Nah, that’s my Mom’s friend.”

Damn, poor kid. “You eat?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

I smile, smart kid. “Good. You shouldn’t. I’m not a bad guy. But you don’t know me.”

“My mom will probably bring me something to eat later.”

Saw her on the couch, not much of a chance of that happening tonight. Probably not tomorrow either, “I’ll get you something. Be back in a few minutes.”

Returning fifteen minutes later, no one has moved from where they lie. Knocking quietly on the door, the kid doesn’t answer, but I open it anyway. I toss the bag to him on the bed, careful not to get to close. I wait as he rummages through the bag, pulling out the sandwich and ripping the paper off in a fury. God knows when the last time he really ate was.

“There’s fruit in there and vitamin water. Eat it, don’t trade it. And a toothbrush and toothpaste. Use it. I put a fifty in the bottom of the bag. Hide it in the clothes you’re wearing. Don’t leave it in your stuff. They’ll smell it and it’ll disappear before you can buy your next meal. Use it for food only.”

I don’t know if he pays any attention to my instructions, but his voice stops me on the way out. “Thank you.”

The entire drive back to the hotel, I think maybe it’s time I say thank you to Nico.