Chasing China White, Allan Leverone [feel good books to read txt] 📗

gotta be. Don’t matter it don’t work with me or Malik. You’re this guy who lives wild, drinks too much, does anything for money. I know you quit junk, that’s good, but you didn’t quit the life. Didn’t quit being that guy.”

She said it like he could just change and be some other guy. A thing women never see as their fault—he was the guy she met, and now she wanted him to change. Like he’s her fucking hairstyle.

Tommy sits alone on the couch, TV low so it won’t wake Carla or Malik. Glass in his hand, fifth of bourbon on the table in front of him. It’s night and they’re asleep even though it ain’t late. Except for them.

His gut churns, hurts. Been like that a lot lately. He still loves Carla and it feels like she still loves him. He can’t give up, they just love different. She said he only wanted sex. She was beautiful, who wouldn’t? Thing is she’s pissed at him and they ain’t fucked in a long time.

I’ll get good work again, he thinks. Takes a drink. Bring the money home, make you proud. That’s what he’s always been good at, what worries him now. She works too, has to. He always makes money, but he always blows it. And she’s the one talks to Malik; the boy barely looks at him. It feels like she stole their son from him.

“You only talk about you,” she said. “You never ask about us.”

He knows, can’t change what’s already done. Just trying to fix what comes. Don’t like what’s coming.

He feels Carla wake beside him. No reason for him to get up. “Got work comin’,” he says, his eyes open enough to watch her rise. His hand goes toward her bare shoulder but she’s already out of bed.

She stands over him, don’t look his way. “Same kind of work?”

“It pays. It helps.” Knows he shoulda never opened his mouth.

“A real dad,” she says, steps away. “A real husband.” She grabs clothes from the closet and steps toward the bathroom. She’ll change in there, where he won’t see. “Would really help.”

She enters the bathroom, shuts the door behind her. She’s gonna be a while, spends all her money on lotions. Calls them her ablutions, whatever the fuck that means. She looks great, so fine. But she’s supposed to look great for him, not the world. Fuck the world.

He wishes he never woke up. Lies awake, eyes closed. Waits for her to leave the bathroom. To leave the house. Can’t stand to think of her smooth brown back and those perfect little tits. Wants to be inside her and she don’t care. He’s been wrong too many times, lied too many times, somehow talked her out of leaving so far. By now it’s just about Malik. She wants him to be a better dad, she’s told him that enough. This is his last chance for that. He’s blown his last chance at everything else.

She’ll take Malik to school when she leaves. When they’re gone he’ll get up, cook a ton of bacon with a big omelet and toast and lots of coffee. He don’t like to cook but that shit’s easy, easy to clean up too, then she won’t bitch about that. Some day she’ll take Malik for good. His only hope is a job that pays enough money she stops complaining how he makes it.

He wants her here forever but if they ain’t gonna fuck he wants her gone now. Not forever but now. So he can load up on fuel without looking at her, then go see Eddie and get work. Something where he can do good so he gets the big job next time. He needs the big job.

Seems like she’ll never leave the fucking bathroom.

Eddie’s a regular guy, works days at the bar so he can take real work when a night job comes. Mostly he sets stuff up, takes a piece of all that. But muscle work? He’s a natural. Don’t like the risk is all. Don’t mind so much when the money’s right. It’s early and ain’t many guys at the bar yet. He leans against it waiting for whoever comes. Like he’s showing off the knuckles on his big hands, knuckles grown from all the times they broke. Hitting faces and anything else in the way.

Tommy pulls up a stool. “Hey, Eddie.”

“Hey. The usual?”

“Just beer.” Before Eddie pours a shot with it. “Lookin’ for work. Hear anything?”

Eddie grabs a pint glass, turns his back to fill it. Sets it in front of Tommy, a five’s already on the bar. Eddie looks at it.

“Whole lot more for you when you get somethin’ for me.” Tommy drinks.

Eddie picks up the five, looks side to side. A bar lifer down either end, too far away to hear. Lowers his voice anyway. “I get five. You make at least two large, easy work. That’s all I know about the job, all I wanna know. Serious work, Tommy.” He drops to a whisper. “Fuck it up and I give him you, your wife, your kid on a fucking platter.”

Tommy takes a short drink from his beer, looks up at Eddie. “Business always serious, Eddie. Why I ain’t dead.”

Eddie grabs a scrap of paper from under the register, sets it next to Tommy’s beer, hands him a pencil. “Gimme your number. He calls you.”

Tommy has a couple beers and leaves, his gut fucking killing him, like he might explode. Can’t wait ’til he’s healthy though, Carla could leave before then. Don’t know when the job is, gotta be sober when his phone rings. It’s in his pocket and it’s charged. Two large ain’t a ton of money but enough to be legit. And if he gets it soon, proves his worth, something bigger next.

He walks outside. Afternoon in the city, it’s safe. This part of town anyway. Hears that ringtone that came with the phone, but he walks through crowds and it’s always someone