Page 73 of Blackout: Book Two

“Fine, take Bishop’s case and leave the stuff with the kid alone for now.”

“Are you doing drugs again?”

“Don’t be a dick, Schwartz.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he shakes his head and glares at me.

“I curse the day I ever met you, people.”

“We get that a lot,” I say with a shrug.

“I’m not making any promises other than it’s going—”

“To cost me, yeah, yeah, I know.”

“Now, can I tell you why I’m here so I can fucking get the hell out of here?”

“The Playboy club awaits.”

“You know, I should just let you rot. That’s so much more of an appealing option.”

Leaning back against the chair, I cross my arms against my chest and roll my eyes, knowing he’s too greedy to follow through with his threat.

“The judge who mandated you to this fucking country club happens to be a friend of my father’s.”

“Is this the part where you remind me you cashed in a favor?”

“The judge is going to review your case in five weeks to make sure you’ve made progress. At that time anyone who has had a role in your recovery will make a sworn statement on your behalf. I will then petition the court to lower your sentence, stating you’ve done your due diligence and are ready to be acclimated into the real world and all that bullshit.”

“Wait a minute, are you saying I can get out of here in five weeks?”

Before he can answer I do the math. In five weeks, Lacey will be thirty-seven weeks pregnant. If the judge lets me loose, I’ll be there when she gives birth. As quickly as the realization hits me, so does reality. It all seems too good to be true. No judge mandates someone to rehab for ten months only to let him out after only having done six months…right?

“So as long as the judge feels you’re not going to ditch this place to snort an eight ball of coke, that’s what I’m saying.”

Clenching my jaw, I lean forward.

“Schwartz if you’re fucking with me, I’m going to leave this place and the first thing I’m going to do is blow your fucking head off.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes, and he does it while shoving the documents towards me.

“These are progress reports. Have your counselors fill them out and tell them I’ll be in touch.”

“Schwartz.”

“You paid me to get you off,” he says, closing his briefcase. “I would’ve done the job sooner, but you decided to overdose. Now get the fucking papers filled out so we can be done with this shit once and for all.”

Done.

Once and for all.

Free to be a man of action and not one of broken promises.

The man Lacey deserves.

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