I’d like to think a man like you knows his product, enjoys it even, won’t you have a taste for me?
I scratched the razor against the concrete subconsciously as I relived the nightmare that nearly killed me. I recalled drawing my sleeve up my arm and tying the rubber band around my bicep. I could almost feel the needle prick my skin and when I closed my eyes I watched as my thumb pressed down on the top of the syringe.
There you go.
Just a little more.
All done.
I’ve been at war with myself for a long time and if I would yield Victor’s advice I needed to put my addictions to rest. I needed to go religiously to meetings when I got out and more than that I needed to hang on to the picture he painted for me. The woman home waiting for me and the dream of a family that could be mine.
But before all that, to give myself to Lacey completely I had to free myself from the demons that threatened to pull me away from her. I wasn’t like Victor; I learned the hard way money and power aren’t everything, not when you’re pulling your dead wife out of a bathtub. I had my own issues though and as much as I was addicted to drugs I was addicted to pain. I let people get to me through my heart and I’d have to end that by ending all the people who threatened to take my heart away from me.
Starting with Jimmy.
Ending with Boots.
I didn’t even give a fuck about the G-Man anymore. If that man never got what was coming and lived to a ripe old age only to rot away in a cage, that, was good enough for me. Vic gave me a glimpse of the future, providing me with a wake-up call and a new dream.
I wanted the picture he had taped to the wall, but I wanted that photograph tucked safely into a frame on the nightstand next to my wife.
I touched the edge of the blade, continued to sharpen it before glancing around the cell, searching for an answer to a question I wasn’t going to divulge.
You want to know what happens?
Watch and see motherfucker.
I promise to give you a good show.
I narrowed my eyes as I stared at the metal toilet bowl screwed into the wall and the floor. I crawled across the floor and placed my hands on the bowl, remembering the morning after that first prick of the needle in five years and how I remained hunched over the bowl. I inspected the toilet bowl and found what I was looking for. I used the sharpened edge of the razor as a flat head screwdriver and twisted the bolt attaching the metal thrown to the wall.
Then my voice rang in my ears after Gold tried forcing me on Reina.
I’m not touching her you sick fuck.
Shoot me up, do what you got to do but I won’t fucking touch her.
I twisted and twisted until I pulled back my hand, revealing the three inch bolt and ran my finger across the flat tip.
Nice and sharp, like the tip of a needle.
I moved away from the toilet, placed the sharpened razor back into Vic’s pillowcase before I went to work on the screw.
Lacey’s face worked its way into my brain as my hand quickened the pace, stripping the ridges that swirled around the metal, smoothing them down as I created a point.
I couldn’t wait to see that face again.
I couldn’t wait to kiss that mouth of hers again.
Or hold that soft body in my arms.
I couldn’t fucking wait to be inside her and watch her eyes as she became mine over and over again.
Yeah, I had a fucking future, and it was so goddamn beautiful.
“Nice and sharp,” I repeated.
“Just like the tip of a needle,” I whispered.
I heard the keys dangle before the officer fitted them into the bars and I quickly hid the weapon I was making. Vic pulled back the sheet and stepped into our cell.
“How was church?” I muttered.
“God is good,” he replied, placing his bible under his pillow. “He forgives us all.”
“Yeah? You think?” I asked, wiping the sweat from my brow and pushing my hair away from my eyes.
“I know,” he assured as he climbed into the bottom bunk. “Tomorrow is a big day,” he said, yawning. “Tomorrow I become God.”
No you don’t.
I do.
I climbed onto the top bunk and once I was sure Victor was sleeping, I continued to sharpen the screw against the wall.
God was good.
But I was the devil.
Chapter Forty
I watched Victor take the comb resting on the sink and run it through his silver hair, meticulously coming it back. He slipped on his sparkling white sneakers and brushed down the front of his jumpsuit before he turned around and smiled at me.
“My sources tell me by tomorrow you’ll be a free man,” he assured me.
I didn’t ask questions, relying on his word and the hope that Jack pulled off whatever the fuck he and Victor planned.
“Give Jack some time to come around,” he advised. “A father needs to see the proof that when he leaves this earth his daughter will be well looked after. We don’t always deserve the peace of mind but some of us need it, anyway. Give it to him. Make her happy.”