Chapter 1

“Hey, Sammy. Wanna come over?”

“Huh?” Sam Patterson had been awakened by the ringing of his cell phone. He’d been in a dream where two muscle studs were slowly licking up his thighs and had been about to reach his…He blinked at his digital alarm clock. “It’s 3:17 in the fucking morning! What the hell are you doing calling me now?” Sam rubbed his chin. Since he hadn’t shaved the previous couple days, his beard was itching.

“Sorry, man, just wanted to talk. Didn’t realize it was so late.”

“Well it is.” Sam’s rubbing moved up to his eyes.

“Sorry, dude. I was banging Jill earlier. You know how she can’t get enough of my meat and—”

Sam blocked out the rest of Zack’s bullshit. He didn’t want to hear about Jill. She was a slut, only hanging with Zack because he was the starting quarterback on the high school football team.

“…Sam, you still there?”

He realized he’d spaced out. Not surprising, given it was still the middle of the fucking night. “Uh, yeah. I’ll be over tomorrow, maybe around lunchtime.”

“You…uh…couldn’t, uh, like…come now?” Gone was Zack’s cocky tone. He sounded small, even scared.

Sam sat up straighter in his bed. “Zack, what’s wrong?”

There was silence on the other end for the longest time. Then Sam heard a sniff.

“Zack, talk to me, man.”

“It’s nothing…I just…” Zack went silent.

“Just what?” Sam’s heart was starting to beat heavily. He’d never heard his friend sound like this.

There was another sniff. “It’s all fucked up.”

“What is?” Though he felt like saying, “You’ve only just noticed?”

“Everything. That Janet bitch is pregnant and says it’s mine.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“What you gonna do?” Sam couldn’t imagine Zack marrying her, but maybe that would be the best thing, settling down with a wife and kid.

“I said I’d give her some money to get rid of it.”

“Shit, Zack.” Obviously he wasn’t ready to settle down. Sam threw back the sheet and pulled on the jeans he’d tossed on the floor a few hours earlier. “Does Dennis know?”

Sam tried to do up the buttons on his fly one-handed, the other still holding the phone.

He’d known Zack had been sniffing around the ditzy blonde, but, like a true bud, he’d kept mum to Dennis, Janet’s boyfriend.

“Yeah, the bitch told him,” Zack said.

Sam imagined Dennis would be after Zack’s balls. In fact he was surprised Zack wasn’t calling from the hospital.

“I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Thanks, bud.” Then Zack hung up.

Sam stared up at his still dark ceiling, and prayed for strength. This had been the third call he’d gotten this summer in the middle of the night from Zack. The previous two times, his bud was just high, drunk or a combination of both. Although Zack was probably drunk this time, too, he had never sounded so…pathetic and needy.

“Shit!” Sam hadn’t asked if Zack’s folks were home. Even if they were, they probably wouldn’t be interested. They were well off, they gave Zack everything he wanted, but never spent any time with him. Hell, Zack’s dad hardly ever went to any of their football games. Sam knew that bothered Zack, though he’d never said anything.

As he walked down the hallway to the kitchen, ready to leave his dad a note, Sam remembered how his own dad always came to their games, unless his shift at the mill prevented it. Even then, his dad would try to get time off or move things around so he could be there.

Finally finding a pen that worked, Sam scribbled a quick note and propped it up by the coffee maker. His dad would be sure to see it when he got up for his shift in a couple hours.

* * * *

Zack paced the floor of the den. His life was such a fucking mess. For years, he’d tried to ignore his problems, drinking, smoking or fucking them out of his mind. But in recent weeks, no matter what he did, the scary thoughts kept creeping in. He couldn’t stop them.

Zack reached up and tugged at his hair. It was all over the place, but he didn’t give a shit. He would normally spend ages on his hair, combing, gelling, and styling it just right. Jill would joke he spent longer on his hair than she did on hers. When she’d found out Janet was pregnant, and that he was probably the father, she’d dumped his ass.

He’d been at her house. She’d screamed and stamped her feet. She’d picked up everything from a hairbrush to CD’s, to a little statue of a pony he’d bought her, and had thrown them at him. He’d tried to talk her down, but when he’d gotten close, she’d slashed his cheek with her nails.