Chapter Fifty-One
Fifty-One
He wasn’t going to kill me too! No, man, not me!
When he ran into the bedroom and started rifling through and turning over shit, I made a break for it. Slipped right past him and out the door.
I couldn’t even believe what I’d heard. Kendrick was a stone-cold addict! Damn, what it must be like to be addicted to something so hard, you’re willing to degrade yourself like that. Begging and pleading and offering up your body!
I should really call the police, I thought. I mean, Cassius was a bitch and all, but she didn’t deserve to die. She had to be dead. I mean, I saw her sprawled out on the floor. She looked dead, anyway. It wasn’t like I had any time to stop and check her pulse or anything.
But sometimes people ain’t dead—they’re just unconscious. If I called the cops now, maybe they could save her.
Yeah, yeah, I’d call the cops. I didn’t have to give my name—I knew that much.
But wait, my fingerprints were there. They’d dust for fingerprints. That’s what they did at crime scenes, right? I didn’t need any more blemishes on my record!
Damn, she was just gonna have to die, ’cause I ain’t done nothing but swallowed some sugar.
Sugar? Oh, shit—I had to get me some Ex-Lax and get this mess out of me.