Stone Cold - Ashby Crime Family

“Another memory?”

She nodded and looked up at me, a question in her eyes. “How did you know?”

“We all have memories, Bonnie.” The coffee pot beeped, and I poured two oversized mugs even though it was close to midnight. “How much do you owe him?”

She shook her head again, but when her gaze met mine, she seemed icy cool. “What?”

“Dammit, Bonnie, stop playing games. How much money do you owe that guy?”

“What guy?”

“Squeaker.”

She blinked. “Was that his name? I was sure he had me confused with someone else.”

“Did he also have you confused at Club Degenerate? Or when you met him at whatever dark alley he sells drugs.”

She gasped in outrage, going so far as to put a hand to her chest. “How dare you!”

“Save the southern belle act for someone who doesn’t know all the signs,” I told her and slammed the coffee mug down in front of her harder than I needed to, but I was pissed dammit. “I’m trying to help and you’re lying to me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for your help, did I?”

I sat and shook my head. “You’re too damn stupid to realize when you’re in real danger, otherwise you would have asked for help.”

Damn woman didn’t know enough about the world to know that she didn’t know shit. She said nothing, determined to play this game to the end. Yeah well, I was determined too.

“I’m not stupid.”

“You didn’t used to be,” I growled and went in search of the tablet I usually kept on the kitchen table. I found it beside Bonnie and pulled up what I was looking for.

“Jefferson ‘Squeaker’ Collins. Age 20. Arrested for armed robbery, assault, sexual assault, felony assault and battery, sexual assault of a minor, aggravated assault, drug paraphernalia. Should I keep going?”

Bonnie shook her head, face going pale as she looked at every heinous act documented by half a dozen different police departments throughout Nevada and Arizona.

“Went to juvie when he was sixteen for selling tainted drugs to the kids he hated in high school. Played the game and got out a year ago.” Three fucking years for three dead kids and two more who were effectively brain dead.

“So are we going to talk like adults now?”

She nodded and buried her face in the coffee mug, taking a long fortifying sip. “Fine.”

“How much do you owe?”

“Few thousand. I paid half earlier today but it doesn’t matter.”

I folded my arms and waited for the rest. I knew this song well, used to sing it all the damn time. “Yeah? Why not?”

“Because,” she said, nose up in the air like snooty girl she was just a few months back. “I’m done with him. With that.”

Yep, I knew it well. “Done with what?”

“That.”

I laughed and shook my head. “If you can’t even say it, you’re not ready to give it up. You’re done with what Bonnie?”

“The heroin. I’m done with it.” She was a brave little thing when she wanted to be, and it was too damn bad this shit had taken out plenty of brave and smart people. “I am. I promise.”

“Just like that?” It always seemed easy, at first. Until the withdrawal set in.

Bonnie nodded, confident once again the world would bend to her will. At least she was doing a damn good impression of a woman who wanted the world to think that. “Yep. I found a way to get the pills I need to manage my pain. It requires a little creativity but it should only be for a little while longer. The doctor said the pain should go away soon.”

I stared at her for a long time and nodded. “That was a whole lot of words to not say a damn thing. Impressive.”

“Screw you,” she shot back, surprising me once again.

“Such salty language from a church lady,” I teased and she flipped me off. “Seriously, who are you trying to convince that you’re done? You or me?”

“I don’t have to convince you of anything,” she said, her haughty tone returning.

“Ah, so it’s you you’re trying to convince. Is it working?”

Bonnie opened her mouth to say something and shut it. That happened twice before her shoulders fell with a resigned sigh. “You wouldn’t get it.” She pushed her mug and looked away.

I stood and held a hand out to her. “Follow me.”

“Said the spider to the fly.”

“Funny.” I pulled her with me out of the kitchen and up to the second level of my suite of rooms.

“You know it’s customary to laugh when something is funny instead of just saying that it’s funny.”

“Is it?” I looked at her over my shoulder and laughed. “Funny.”

“Smart ass.”

“Ooh. This potty mouth is new. I like it.” I turned and smiled at her. This was a version of Bonnie I could like all too well, natural and relaxed, funny and witty. “We’re here.”