When he arrived at his apartment he was jolted. Sweat. Heartbeat.
The place had burned down.
Then he remembered. He and
Big Joe
had done that. This was less than a day ago. Less than 14 hours.
God damn he was tired.
sun
light soaked into his head. His eyes ached. Those pills must've been wearing off. When leaving the diner, James had worried that the pills were hurting him. Now he wanted more.
Where the hell was he going to go? He needed to sleep. He'd been up since... since he ran into Chad at the bar. Drank beer. Spilled his beans about the job. And now here he was.
He checked into a motel. Drank tap water. Regretted not having clean bottled water to drink. His piss had been orange. Dehydrated. Had a strong odor of stress chemicals. Or maybe those pills. He made his way onto the bed. Dropped down.
When he awoke again it was pitch black. He had slept through the entire day and evening. When he tried checking the time his phone was dead. He took a piss. Drank some more tap water. Put on a hoodie and stepped outside.
Orange industrial lamps hummed a high hiss. He could smell smoke. Not like campfire. But cigarettes. He craved one. He got into his car. Plugged in his phone into the charger. Made his way over to the nearest
7-11
. He bought both a gatorade and a bottle of fiji water.
Back at the car the phone was ringing. A number he recognized as
Big Joe
.
"Where did you sleep?"
"Motel. Down by Kirkwood."
"Okay. Next weekend you need to check out another motel. Down by Landsman and Washington."