Chapter 38

You’re a beautiful man, Adam.

It was the first alias I could come up with.

I’m happy to help with your bills.

“Make it thirty,” I whispered from my perch upon a counter off in one corner. “Daddy needs a new pair of shoes. Actually, I need an old guitar.”

* * * *

No one asked about the guitar while I waited. In fact, only three people came in, and they were selling, not buying. I tried to point that out to Mr. Shotgun. “Look, I can give you two-seventy.” I’d been stuck there for an hour. So much for my bottom putting me over the top. “Cash in hand.” My PayPal was tied to my debit card. “Ten seconds at the ATM, and we’re good.” There was one by the front door.

“ATM’s busted.”

“You take plastic?”

“Ten dollar charge.”

“And you’ll take two seventy including that?” He seemed less hostile, more agreeable, and that gave me hope.

“Nope.”

“Fuck me!” I lurched at him, and he went for the gun. “Taking it down a notch.”

“You better.”