Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“So, where would you take a girl around here?” I avert my eyes from Preppy.
Preppy shrugs and scratches his beard. “I’m glad you came to me with this. Let me think. I mean, male or female really has nothing to do with the location. It’s more like weight and height and how many parts we’re talking about. Disposal is an art form, but if the body fits in a boat, you can ride out to all sorts of places—”
“No, not to dump a body,” I interrupt. “That you’ve already taught me. I mean to take her out. You know, for fun.”
“Trick question, because wherever I go becomes fun.”
I roll my eyes. “Nevermind, I’ll go ask Dre.”
“No, wait! I’ve got you, brother. But, dude, you’ve lived here for years. You know what’s around here just as well as I do by now.”
“No, I know that the trailer with the meth-heads who don’t blow themselves up weekly is three banyan trees past the stop light on the left in the woods. I know which farm stand doesn’t buy their produce at the big box store before trying to sell it off as farm fresh. I know which liquor store doesn’t water down their booze—”
“Which one?” Preppy asks, perking up.
I grin. “None of them. They all do it. I was just seeing if you were paying attention.”
“Touché, my bro. Continue.”
“I know what strip clubs to find the bikers in. I know which roads to take to avoid the cops. The point is that all of the places I know aren’t places to take a girl. They aren’t date places.”
Preppy raises an eyebrow. “They aren’t? ‘Cause I’m not gonna lie. They all sound like a pretty fuckin’ good time.”
I harden my gaze.
“Okay. Okay. But you’re missing the big picture here. It’s not what bar has cleaner bathrooms or about taking her to a billion-course dinner. If we’re talking about Lenny here, then she had all that, and did it make her happy?”
I sigh and shake my head because happy is something that Lenny is not, and from the way she talks about her anxiety, it started way before Jared, uh, disappeared.
“Okay, so if you really want to impress this girl, don’t just take her somewhere you think she’ll like. SHARE something with her. Something that has to do with you. Something you dig.”
I’m waiting for the usual punchline, but it never comes. As his words sink in, an idea comes to mind. “Thanks, Prep.”
I turn around to leave. I’ve got one foot onto the path leading to my RV when Preppy calls out to me, “You know, if the date thingy doesn’t work out, text me her height and weight, and I’ll meet you at the boat!”
I turn around to flip him a middle finger. I expect him to be laughing, but his face his completely serious.
“Tell me something, brother. Are you all shook up over this girl because she’s the girl from the bridge? Or because she’s from the rich side of town? Or because Ricci’s men are after her? Or because you killed her boyfriend? Or because you want to hit it like—”
“Yes.”
“Eh, it could be worse.”
“It could be worse?” I throw my hands in the air. “How the fuck could it be any worse?”
Bo appears from within the office holding a large Ziploc bag with something white in it.
I point to the bag and try to get Preppy’s attention. “Uh, Preppy? Is that…”
Preppy spins around and snatches the bag from Bo’s hand. “Bo, where did you get this?”
“From the safe, behind your desk. Under the floorboards. I heard you talking to Uncle Nine about your good coke, so I broke into it and got it for you.” Bo smiles proudly.
Preppy crouches down so he’s eye to eye with his son. “What did I tell you about things like this?”
His little smile flattens. “No hard drugs until I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. But I didn’t try it. It would stunt my growth. I was just trying to help, Daddy. I swear.”
Preppy stands. “Go inside, and wait for me. We’ve got to have a little talk.”
“Another one?” Bo whines.
“Yeah, buddy, another one.”
Bo goes inside the office, and Preppy blows out a long breath. He looks torn.
“You gonna be okay, Prep?” I ask.
He runs his hands through his hair. “Yeah, I am. I uhh…I’m just a little mixed up right now.”
I wait for him to elaborate.
“Like, on one hand, I’m pissed because my kid broke into my safe and brought me a bag of my good coke, but on the other hand…” His eyes gloss over, but he doesn’t look upset. He looks…proud? “He knows what good coke is.”
I leave Preppy to have a chat with his son and head back to the RV. I think about the list of reasons Preppy gave me as to why I’m so pissed off and annoyed at the situation with Lenny, and they don’t seem right. They don’t seem right because they aren’t right. I already know the real reason why I’m so bothered, but I can’t admit it yet, even to myself.