Chapter 23

He wrote: Have to piss and eat. I’m hungry.

I read the note to Sander.

Sander looked in the rearview mirror. “You’re a fucking child, Lewis. Why didn’t you take a piss back at the motel?”

I told Sander, “Take it easy on him.” Granted, stupidity rolled out of me sometimes, effortlessly, and that’s exactly what happened. I should have just kept my mouth shut, but didn’t.

“Fucking always on his side, aren’t you, Kal? What the fuck is up with that?” Sander couldn’t keep his rage pent. He kept looking at me, to the road, and then back to me, swishing his head back and forth like a windshield wiper. Anger boiled under his skin.

“I’m just being a mediator,” I said.

“Fuck that. You’re not. You’re being a dickhead. That’s what you’re being.”

I rolled my eyes, but Sander didn’t see me. Then I whispered, “Can you please pull over and let Lewis take a piss? Plus, we can all eat.”