Chapter 3

“Hey, Ryan, where are you going?” Damon asked.

“Your brother’s back.” He gestured with his thumb to the kitchen.

Damon instantly smiled with relief. “Oh, thank God.”

“And he fired me. So, bye.”

“He-he fired you? But—”

Ryan shrugged. “Easy come, easy go. Bye, Damon. Good luck. I think you’ll need it.”

Without a backward glance, Ryan went outside to his motorcycle. He drove away from the restaurant, his gut twisted with disappointment. He knew it had been too fucking easy to get a job his first day, let alone a job like that.

And suddenly he had a need to get stinking drunk. Probably a really piss poor idea but one he had anyway. On the way home he spotted a liquor store still open, so he went in and got himself a big bottle of Jack.

Jonesy was about to split his gut in his excitement when Ryan made it home, so first he walked the dog and fed him. Then he sat on the floor of his living room, stretched out on his sleeping bag, and drank straight from the bottle.