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  Richard’s voice dropped to a growl. He looked around once more, making sure no one was looking, and anyone who was knew to fuck off directly. “I treat you like I treat you because you are what you are. I’m getting older, I’ll admit, but I’m not senile and I haven’t forgotten what an underhanded little piece of trash you are. You hear?” She nodded and her eyes began to float as he continued. “Maybe you don’t remember most of the fucked up shit you used to do to stay high, or the beatings you came this close to taking when you crossed my line. But I know you can feel it when you hear me. Though you’re looking like something special today, all cleaned up with the merchandise packaged nice and pretty, I know what you are. I know what gutter you crawled out of. I know you would have sold your soul to keep yourself in dope if it wasn’t for that piss-ant dead-beat supposedly-ex-boyfriend of yours. The one man on this earth who looks at you and doesn’t see a disgusting used-up junkie whore. So here’s what I want to know.” He looked around again. Not a soul was minding any business but their own. “Why the fuck are you all dressed up like you’re going on vacation? Why are you looking so tasty?”

  She didn’t move as he squeezed her chin. Trying not to show that he was hurting her. She could see in his eyes what she’d felt in his pants: her looks and her manner did nothing for him. And she feared the worst. That he knew David was setting him up. But when goons like Richard started intimidation with vague threats, character assassination and open ended questions, odds were they didn’t know the score. They just wanted you to think they did, so you’d tell them. The lie was always worth the risk in that situation. David had passed that pearl of wisdom from his uncle on to her. But David was also putting her neck in a noose.

  Richard’s eyes pounded into hers. Waiting, in complete silence, for her to answer. Juno’s focus went soft and the shakes from the inside trickled out. Letting him know she felt scared before she opened her mouth. “Look,” she said, the skin around her eyes going red and puffy. “Davey’s been bad, okay? That’s why I dumped him. He’s—”

  “Bad how?” He moved his hand from her chin and gripped her firmly by the neck. “What’s that little fuck been up to?” He banged her left temple with the heel of the palm of his free hand. Swift and painful. “And don’t you start with the crying. Davey may fall for that bullshit, but I’m not him. You shed one tear and you’ll regret it in a way you’ll never fuckin’ forget. I promise you.”

  “He’s... He’s been...” She looked at him, shaking harder. Her face twitching. Trying not to lose it. “Please don’t make me say.”

  He pulled her in closer, pressing his forehead against hers, whispering even more softly. The calm before he bounced your head off a kerb. “You’re going to tell me what you know, Junie. You’re going to tell me or the next time anyone asks, I’m going to have to tell them I have no idea where you went off to. You catch my drift?”

  She looked directly into his eyes. Frozen.

  “Tell me or I’ll do worse than kill you, I promise,” he continued. “I’ll start by putting you in the hospital. Fuck up that beautiful little face so bad you’ll have to learn how to type. I’ll do it right here, right now, in front of God and everyone. And no one will see a thing.” He shook her. “You know I used to let your bullshit slide because Davey’s a good earner, right? If you aren’t with him anymore, you’re just another cheap piece of product to me. Remember that.”

  “He’s been hustling,” she said, her body paralysed. Sniffling as the fear gripped her face, making her features contort. Losing all hope as she cursed herself inside. Like that, Richard had won. He’d make her ugly in front of a crowd, no doubt. Selling David down the river didn’t seem so wrong when compared with the consequences of being caught in a lie by the likes of Richard. “When he made what he was supposed to bring back, he held on to the leftover.” Richard’s grip got tighter. “He kicked. He quit using like he used to. And he made me quit with him. Wouldn’t give me anything. Kept me locked up in the apartment. I had no say. He sold the leftover. Put the money in his pocket, Ricky.” She looked down and then back up at him again, begging for mercy. “He treated me like an animal when we kicked. He took me when he wanted, against my will, to keep the urges from winning. But he promised me we’d be cleaned up and going away soon. We’d be leaving to start a better life with the money he made selling. I swear. I know what he did was wrong, but he... I didn’t know what to believe when I was hurting. I wanted it to be true, so I could keep waking up and get through another day without using.”

  She buried her face in his shoulder, swallowing hard, as he let go of her neck, batted the back of her head and his eyes did another sweep of the thrift store crowd. “It’s okay. You did the right thing. Telling me.” She clenched her teeth. Mentally preparing for the serious physical and verbal degradation he’d surely begin making her suffer next. In full view of all the unseeing eyes at the thrift store. “Don’t worry, though, baby.” He paused as he rubbed her lower on the back, running his fingers below the waistline of her dress. “As soon as I take care of him...” He pulled her head off his shoulder and kissed her on the forehead. “...I’ll take care of you. I’ll fix you up.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked. Confused.

  “You’ll see.” He stepped to her side and slapped her ass. Smiling as he watched her try to keep her entire body from quaking uncontrollably. “Still nice and bouncy.” He looked at her backside. “I’ll make sure you don’t go hungry. Take that how you will.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered, dismissing him with a slight wave of her quivering hand as she began to turn away. Trying to look tough. Failing miserably.

  He smacked her head back around to face him. “Whatever?”

  “I don’t want to go back to doing what I used to,” she managed to whisper in choppy breaths. Regaining her balance. “I’m... I’m sorry I said that.”

  “Too good for that now? Well, you won’t be, soon enough. You can thank Davey’s corpse when it floats by you in the gutter.” He backed away from her, gave her left cheek a light slap and straightened his tie. “You’ll be pulling in good money at first. Right now, you pass inspection and then some. But when you go back to using. And you will, I can see in your eyes. I’ll still keep you around. I’ll keep you well fed and doped up. You’ll be back to servicing the real low life scum for smack in no time. Next thing you know, you won’t give a shit where you are or where you came from.” He looked at her with loathing as he brushed the spot on his shirt where her face had rested. “That’s as good as a stone waste of oxygen like you could hope for. You may be gorgeous on the outside, but inside you’re garbage. Scum. Always have been, always will be.”

  “Please, Ricky. I told you what you wanted. Can’t you—?”

  He patted her on the back and smiled as she continued to shake. “You need to get used to agreeing with me or, when you’re back on the dope, things aren’t going to turn out quite as pretty as the picture I painted.” He stared in her eyes as she fought to keep from cracking. “Show me you can follow orders like you used to. Give me a reason not to fuck your life up right here and now.”

  “Okay—”

  “You shut your mouth unless I tell you to talk. And keep your hands at your sides. Do you hear me?” Juno’s arms dropped as she nodded her understanding. “Tell me the truth. Tell me you’re a stupid, worthless cunt.”

  “I’m a stupid...” She paused, her lips trembling, and Richard’s hand clamped back around her neck. “...I’m a stupid... ...worthless cunt.” She stifled tears and fought to keep her hands from raising to defend herself. Seeing Richard knew anticipating the pain was damaging her much worse than the real thing.

  “You’re an ugly, used-up junkie slut who does who and what she’s told. Tell me.” Richard whispered as he felt her swallow hard. “And say it like you mean it.”

  “I’m... I’m an ugly, used-up junkie slut who does who and what I’m told.”

  Richard watched her eyes losing focus and smiled. “Now, th
ank me for reminding you what you are.”

  “I’m...” Richard clenched his fist, choking her and easing up. “Thank you for reminding me what I am, Ricky.”

  Richard let go of her neck and gave her a bracing slap. “Cheer up, sunshine. Life will make sense again soon. I promise. Shooting up your meals and swallowing your pay will come back easy enough. Like riding a bicycle.” He looked her up and down once more. “You stay tight, and I’ll get you started.” He paused, rubbing his forehead. “Colour your hair, though. The carpet and the drapes. Get a tan, maybe. And wear lots of make-up. So I can pretend you’re not you. I like to think I’m a fair man, and I’ll cut you a break, but if I’m going to be your cash machine I don’t want to have to close my eyes and dream of someone else so you can get me off. I can do that on my own. You understand.”

  Truly giving up David, and not just spouting half-truths, felt entirely necessary as Juno looked into Richard’s eyes and felt them prying into her. “Ricky, look... I need to tell you—”

  Richard raised a finger to his lips. “No point. You already told me what you are. Like a good bitch. You just make sure you get checked out by a doctor at the free clinic. Be ready for me when I come by to pick your weak little ass up later. Me and six or seven of Paulie’s crew. We’re going to have a hell of a time making that face look even dumber than it naturally does. We’ll see you soon. At the apartment. Be there.”

  He winked and walked away.

  She continued to spasm and shake. Hyperventilating. A smile drew itself across Richard’s face as he stopped to listen to her on his way out the door. He looked back at her, chuckled, and he was gone.

  When the door closed behind him, she turned her back. Hiding her face in her hands as she tried not to whimper. And then tried not to sob. Breaking down completely and tearing a blouse off the racks to cover her head as she wept. She tugged at her dress to even it out, and tugged harder still to shake off the memory of that bastard publicly humiliating her like he owned her. Wiping runny mascara from her face and collecting herself.

  She prayed David’s plan worked, even as she hoped it all went to hell. The only downside she could see at that point was not being able to spit in Richard’s face if David did come through. But she couldn’t lie to herself and believe that would happen.

  As much as she may have ever loved David, she’d never really trusted anyone but herself. And she’d begun telling herself that being with him was stupid and dangerous ever since they’d quit being slaves to the dope. She could only assume she’d been telling herself that for the entirety of their relationship.

  David walked into the run-down warehouse office, shuffling his feet. Making sure the mini tape recorder in his shirt pocket was recording before he zipped up his jacket and tightened his grip on his tattered leather briefcase.

  His boss Paul Mauro, a low level mob associate, sat at a desk in the middle of the room. Surrounded by Guatemalan goons. All armed to the teeth. Pistols holstered and Machetes sheathed. Their hands shaking with anticipation. Like they’d never seen one second of action. Like they were hoping today was going to be the day. Like they did every time he came by to deliver the week’s cash.

  Paul waited at his desk as David approached. Paul was a big man, to put it politely. He dressed well, but it didn’t hide anything. There wasn’t a tailor living in the boroughs who could fit him perfectly. He was too big and too fat in too many places. The only place he wasn’t extra meaty was in between his big fat Italian ears. “Davey boy. How was the week?”

  “Okay,” David replied as he came closer and began to open his briefcase. “You mind?” he asked the muscle surrounding the front of the desk. They looked back at Paul, who nodded, and three of them moved to the side.

  “You look good,” Paul said. “You take a bath or something?” David looked at him and smiled weakly. “Doesn’t that make the high go away faster? You forget? Junkie 101?”

  “No, I didn’t forget.” He opened the briefcase and dumped the cash on the desk. “Just... Me and Junie broke up. I need to look good again.”

  “A shame. She’s a nice girl.” Paul looked at the pile of money on the desk. “No leftover again?” David winced slightly. “Every week, no leftover, and you’re still looking good. How do you do it?”

  “It’s all there. The exact amount. Everything’s sold. Everything’s paid for. It’s all there.” David looked over his shoulder as he heard a creak come from the entranceway, but it appeared empty. Richard was nowhere in sight, which wasn’t the worst news, but it could turn into a headache if he wasn’t there when the cops busted in. A possibly fatal headache.

  Paul sighed. “I know it’s all there. It’s always all there. You must be saving up though, no? You kick?” He laughed heartily and his goons laughed along with him. Even if they had no idea why they were laughing or what the joke was. “You’ve been getting better looking every week, Davey. That concerns me.”

  “In what way?”

  “Every week I pay you your shitty little percentage and your dope. To keep you high and happy. And for the longest time you looked like death. Maybe worse.” He smirked and looked around and the goons started laughing again. Still clueless. “But lately, you’ve been getting better looking. First, it was something about your walk. You had extra... what do you call it? Swagger? You started walking like a man.”

  “And that’s bad, because...?” David asked. Wondering when the cops were going to have enough on their remote surveillance to end this ordeal. Wondering where Richard was.

  “Well, I see that and I think, maybe you’re coming to see me all fucked up. I don’t give a shit about that, of course. You’re a fuckin’ junkie. You do what you do.” He paused for a moment, considering his words. “But then I start to think other things. Bad things. Like, what if you’re charging more than I’m asking? What if you’re taking the extra and cooking it up? What if you’re taking my good nature for granted and fucking me over while you pump even more of my product into your veins? You know what I mean?”

  “No. I never use more than—”

  “Listen,” Paul interrupted, “I don’t know what the fuck, okay? That’s just what I thought. If I gave a shit, I’d have broken your legs to find out a long time ago. You’re a good earner. I expect you to skim. That’s how the game’s played. I expect you to take off the top. You understand? You’re a fuckin’ user. I’ve got to do a little something to keep you happy, right? You turn my drugs into money and I don’t have to deal with scum like you on the streets. What could be better than that?”

  “I don’t know.” David faked a laugh. “I don’t understand the problem. Like you said: You give me the drugs. I turn them into money. You get paid. I get well. What’s better than that? I don’t understand.”

  Richard’s breath came hot on his neck. “Show him your fuckin’ arms, cowboy.”

  “Jesus, Ricky,” David yelped. “You scared the shit out of me. For a second there I thought you finally came out of the closet.” Richard moved over to the desk, throwing David a mean look as Paul stood and leant over to greet him. “I’m sorry, Ricky. Come again? Do what?”

  “He said he wants to see your arms,” Paul said, patting Richard on the back. “Don’t ask me why. Maybe he likes you or something.” Richard stared into David’s eyes hard, trying to keep his homophobic rage in check, as Paul continued. “Maybe he’s wondering the same thing I am. How come you’re looking so good and you still live in that shit-hole apartment? How come you’re skimming like you always have been and you’re not fucked up twenty-four seven like you should be?”

  “And how come Junie’s looking so tight?” Richard asked.

  “What?” David looked around. “What’s that got to do with anything? You thinking about switching teams, Ricky?”

  Paul looked interested, motioning with his hand for Richard to stay back. “That’s some sad news for you. Right, Davey. There’s a beautiful woman under all that fuckin’ mess, I’ll bet. You clean her up too? Before she left
you?”

  “What?” David backed up slightly. “I really don’t know what you guys are talking about.”

  “Show us your fuckin’ arms.” Richard pounded his fist on the desk, much to Paul’s delight. “I want to see the train tracks on your fuckin’ arms, Davey. Show us the subway map.”

  David rolled up his jacket sleeves and the sleeves of his shirt underneath. His arms were clean. No track marks, no injection points. Just some light bruising and the little scars that would never go away.

  Paul looked concerned as he continued with his line of questioning. “You’ve been clean for a while, no?”

  David didn’t move.

  “I would check elsewhere,” Paul continued, “but no junkie shoots anywhere else unless the main veins are all used up. Did you go straight for the toes, Davey? The crotch?” Paul laughed as David stood, frozen. “Because you don’t look like you’ve been chasing the dragon at all lately. What happened? You finally figure out it’s impossible to catch that mother fucker? This worries me, Davey. You’re looking like a regular guy.”

  “And Junie’s looking like a piece of ass you wouldn’t believe,” Richard added, as David tried hard to keep his emotions under control. “Saw her on my way here. At the thrift store. She was wearing a dress. Fit her like shrink-wrap. She’s really taking care of that body, Davey boy. You’ve got to be missing that. Those tits. That ass. Just getting sweeter every second. Four years away from her sexual peak, and you, thirteen years past yours. I’m telling you, she looks like a prize fuck. It must be... difficult.” Richard snickered like a juvenile as he inched toward him. “How’d it end, Davey? Was it one mysterious headache after another?”

  David stared back at Richard. “I don’t know why you guys are baiting me, but there’s nothing... What do you care anyway, Ricky? Her seventh birthday came and went a long time ago.” Richard’s face grew red as he looked back at Paul, who still motioned for him to keep cool. “Seriously, what are you getting at? Yeah, she left me, but that’s nobody’s business but mine.”