Chapter 5
PHIL
WHEN I saw the report on the news, and then saw my face flash on the screen, it made me sick.
Those fuckers made what happened between Hazel and I out to be something twisted and disgusting.
What happened was anything but. I thought for sure I had killed her.
It would have been better that way. Now she’s alive, and I can’t have her.
But someone else will. That knowledge eats away at me, feeding the inferno burning deep inside.
Because I know that at the moment, it’s Cash who has her.
Maybe he won’t have her forever, but it doesn’t matter.
Even if someone else takes my rightful place, I’ll want to kill them too.
She is mine and only mine. Hazel takes what I give her, and I need that to survive in this world.
She stole that from me. And now, I live with the fact that she will do that for someone else. It’s a hard pill to swallow.
The cops know for sure it was me. I could have easily gotten away with her murder.
Those bumbling Mayberry cops can’t wipe their own ass.
The family lawyer is so good that the evidence they took could easily be inadmissible in court.
Except for Hazel. Her testimony is my golden ticket to the state penitentiary.
Definitely no turning back now. Maybe one day… .
Shaking that thought from my head, I think about business.
The deal was made, just barely. With my face all over every goddamn paper I’ve seen and newscasts throughout the state, it’s a fucking wonder someone didn’t spot me on this little trip to meet Samuel.
We ended up relocating the meeting to some pay-by-the-hour motel in case someone recognized me.
The place stunk to high heaven of body odor, cigarettes, and weed. People were too busy getting whore pussy to notice me walking to a room. I handed over the last of my money I had hidden away, with the assurance that he would get me into RCC in the next week.
Dustin and I found a seedy motel near RCC to crash until the call came.
Thank God it’s not as nasty as the one we held the meeting at.
We need to be ready to get in at a moment’s notice, and then get the fuck out quickly.
With limited choices and money, this place will have to do.
The sooner we have the formula, the quicker we can alter the drug and start selling it.
Everyone dying is bringing too much attention to Snap.
If we can fix it, and people stop getting sick or keeling over, then it won’t be talked about anymore.
Then we can start selling a shit ton of Snap once again.
My stomach cramps up as my skin gets clammy, reminding me it’s time to dose up.
But I already used the last of my personal stash, and Dustin has hidden the rest to sell when we get home.
He doesn’t want me taking it, and to be honest, I don’t want that shit either.
The Snap circulating here is not addictive and wouldn’t ease the withdrawal.
I stare up at the water stain on the ceiling, curious if it will crash down on me in my sleep.
Pulling the sheets back, I check for bedbugs, and I’m thankful to find a new mattress underneath.
They must have had them and had to replace it.
We may get eaten alive staying here. That beats jail any day of the week, though.
Slipping between the sheets, I curl up on my side and breathe through the nausea.
My body shivers through the cold and hot flashes, dampening my clothes with sweat.
It feels like an ice pack against my skin.
Not caring if the duvet is covered in enough cum to run the local sperm bank, I yank all the covers up to my chin and clutch them to me.
Within minutes, I begin to warm up and relax enough to get some sleep.
“Open the door,” Dustin yells, waking me up and confusing me. “Come on, this shit is heavy,” he says, kicking the door.
Throwing back the covers, I get up and let him in.
I take some of the bags out of his hands and set them on the bed.
Inside are bags of chips, protein bars, and lots of other junk food for us to meal on.
The thought of cramming this processed shit into my stomach on the daily nauseates me all over again.
I’ve had to survive on it for a week already.
It’s not doing my stomach any favors. How do people eat this shit every day?
It’s awful. I miss the food our personal chef prepared.
After eating the burgers and fries that taste as if they were bathed in grease, Dustin asks the same unanswered question he’s asked for the past week.
“What happened between you and Hazel? And don’t say it’s none of my business, because I’m aiding and abetting your ass. If I go down with you, I have every right to know the truth.”
I lay back down on the single bed I’ve claimed as my own and put my arms under my head. Dustin sits like a statue on the edge of his single bed, waiting for an answer. I turn my head toward him, and he raises a brow at me. Sighing, I sit up and shake my head.
“She’s had the formula this entire time, holding it ransom.
I’ve tried being nice to her, and when I went to her place to try again, she pulled a fucking knife on me.
The bitch is crazy, ranting all kinds of shit about going to the cops and taking us down.
I couldn’t let that happen. Shit got out of control, and she tried to stab me. I lost it.”
Dustin stares at me for a moment questioning everything I just told him. Maybe he’s not as stupid as I pegged him to be. “They said you raped her, Phil. Raping someone is not the same as going overboard while protecting yourself.”
“That’s a fucking lie!” I shove my finger toward him, gritting my teeth together. His eyes bulge out, and he holds his hands up in front of him. “I didn’t fucking touch her like that!”
“Easy, man. I’m just repeating what the news has said.” His words attempt to coax my anger back down, but my blood is still boiling. It won’t be simmering down anytime soon.
“Those bastards always add more details to have bigger and better stories. It’s all about the wow with them.”
Dustin nods his head and stands up nervously. “I’m gonna take a shower.”
He escapes into the bathroom and closes the door. That motherfucker better get with the program and not fuck around and mess this shit up for me.
I step outside to get a breath of fresh air and clear my mind.
When the wind blows, it brings the stench of hot trash with it from the overflowing dumpster on the side of the lot.
It stings my nose, and I force myself to breathe through my mouth.
Leaning against the brick column, I glance around the two-story motel.
The old sign on the corner of the building is faded and has bulbs out, but it lights up the corner rooms enough to see people moving behind the curtains.
I’ve seen them coming and going today. They look like drug addicts and prostitutes.
The same type of people who will be buying from me in the future.
“Hey there,” a sweet voice says, interrupting my thoughts.
I turn my head slightly and see a half-dressed girl leaning against a doorway a few rooms down.
Her nipples are dark through her white tank top, and her boy shorts are riding up her pussy.
She twirls her black hair around her finger and bats her lashes at me.
I could use a little time off for bad behavior.
She’s a little skinny for my tastes, but she will do.
“Hey, sweetheart.” I smirk in her direction, and she smiles back. “How are you tonight?”
She frowns slightly and says, “I’d be better if I had some company.”
Taking a look around the empty lot, I casually step toward her and tower over her short frame. She smiles up at me as she backs into her room, and I follow.
Yes, she’ll do just fine.
CADY
“Where’s Detective Thomas?” I yell as I run up to Hazel’s apartment.
As soon as Erick got the call from Bobby that Hazel was gone, I dropped the tray of drinks I was holding and ran to the door. Job be damned. How can she be gone? Cops were supposed to be watching her, but according to Bobby, they were gone when he pulled up after dropping Erick off with me.
“He’s over there.” An officer points to a group of men huddled on the lawn.
I charge over and shove between them. They jump back, startled, as I get up in the detective’s face. “Where the fuck was the cop that was supposed to be watching her?”
He sighs and puts his hands up in defense. “I was told to pull her detail. Phil was spotted several times today in a town several hours away. The last sighting was this evening. It wasn’t my call; it was my superior’s.”
I freeze for a moment in confusion. “Well, if it wasn’t Phil, who the fuck was it?”
“Your guess is as good as mine right now, Miss McDowell. If you’ll excuse me.” He turns and walks away, leaving me standing there dumbfounded.
The cops are knocking on the doors of Hazel’s neighbors, asking questions.
Detective Thomas walks next door and begins talking with the woman there.
Tired and shaken, she speaks as she points at Hazel’s apartment, and then down the street.
The detective takes notes the entire time. Other cops are doing the same thing.
“Come on, babe.” Erick lays his hand on my shoulder and turns me around. “Let’s go find Bobby.”
I follow him into Hazel’s apartment, once again filled with cops. We spot Bobby on the couch, clutching the back of his head. An officer hands him an ice pack, and Bobby accepts it, placing it against his head.
“You alright?” Erick asks him.
“Yeah. They rocked me pretty good. Enough to knock me the fuck out.”