Chapter 81

But it was not the police.

“Open the window, bro,” Billy called.

I got out of my car. I felt cramped, tired, out of sorts. My ribs and my arm ached, the pain a dull throb inside the bones.

“What the hell are you doing, Wiley?”

I was surprised by the look of concern on his face. He seemed frantic.

The lot was sparsely populated. Had to be midnight or later.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“We’ve been looking all over for you.”

I did not answer.

“Jack saw your car in the lot here, reckoned you’d be here since you didn’t have anywhere else to go. What are you doing?”

I wasn’t in the mood for a dressing-down by my bigger brother. I clutched my arm to my chest.

“Did you eat yet?” he asked.

“What do you want, Billy?”

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah! I had steak and potatoes and a bottle of frikkin’ chardonnay.”

“You gon’ spend the night here?”

“If I have to.”

“I’ll take you home.”

“I’d rather be alone.”