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The first pull of smoke hitting my lungs is the sweetest. I don’t even remember why I decided to quit it to begin with. Something to do with some nasty cough I had for a while. But it’s now gone, and it’s not like I plan on living forever.
My cell phone vibrates with a message, but I decide that it can wait until I finished this first cigarette. Because there will be more after that. In fact, I don’t plan on stopping tonight until this whole fucking pack is gone.
“Go get me a whole carton,” I yell out to the prospect. He takes off in a run, never questioning my request.
“What the fuck, brother,” Winger appears next to me. “I thought you quit it. Doc said that bronchitis you’ve been fighting will turn into pneumonia soon if you don’t stop smoking.”
Ah, bronchitis, that’s what it was. I figured it’d be a more manly reason.
“Something’s gotta kill me anyway.”
He takes his time sitting next to me before resting his feet on the bench in front of us.
“I sent you a text,” he tells me after a few minutes of awkward silence. “It’s intel on the stripper.”
That gets my attention, and my head snaps back to stare at him. He can see the questions in my eyes and starts talking.
“She’s from across the state. Quit school right before graduation. Kinda odd,” Winger comments, and I have to agree. “She got caught whoring around with some football players. Parents threw her out. She started stripping. Nothing more interesting than that.”
I finish my cigarette and immediately light another. The smoke catches in my chest, making me lose my breath for a brief second. But the high I get from it is worth it. I blow the smoke back out and smile.
“Pretty predictable on the stripper,” I agree with Winger. “I suppose that’s how they all get started in the business.”
Winger nods in agreement, but he’s not as amused by it as I am.
“What else is going on?”
“I got word that Puck and Sully left for Illinois.”
I clear my throat when something feels stuck in there. I cough it up and spit it to the side.
“What the fuck for?” I manage to ask Winger.
“From what I hear, Wrecker is in no shape to ride back. Besides, his bike is, well, wrecked.”
We both laugh at that.
“He can’t rent a car or truck?”
“His ribs are all fucked up. And he’s got that kid now.” Winger leans against me, like he’s about to tell me a secret. “If you ask me, I think he’s scared of him.”
“Scared of who? The kid?”
Winger snickers. “Yeah. He’s older. He can talk and shit. And I guess all he does is scream and cry.”
“I’d do the same if you forced me to join the Lizards.”
We both bust out laughing, to the point where I break into a coughing fit. Maybe me smoking is not the smartest idea after all. But deciding that the satisfaction I get from it is more important, I take another long pull from my cigarette.
“This whole thing is either gonna make us or break us,” I declare as I let out a puff of smoke. “Failing can’t be an option.”
I think of all the money I need for my mother’s care. If anything happened to me where I couldn’t pay, they would kick her out. She’d be dead within days.
“We just need to make sure there will be no trace to us once this is said and done,” Winger elbows me. “I could never survive prison. I’m too pretty for it.”
I turn my head to stare at him right before blowing smoke right into his face.
“Didn’t you do time before?”
