Too Damn Early

The sunlight manages to pierce through my eyelids. I just slept better than I have in a long while. I don’t want to wake up now. I could sleep for days, but something in my brain tells me I have to get up. I blink my eyes. It takes a few seconds to adjust to the blinding light streaming in through the windows. God damn, I live for overcast days. I groan as I sit up. As I wince in pain, the previous day’s events wash over me.

My head is where the pain hurts the worst. I’m not sure why, but it’s throbbing something fierce. Maybe it’s Luna’s incessant meowing. She wants her breakfast. I kind of want to put her in a bag and drown her. That feeling fades fast when I see her pathetic look. She looks about the same as I feel. I wish that my biggest problem was that someone was sleeping too long and didn’t get me my breakfast. I pull myself out of bed, solely so that she’ll shut up. My arm still hurts and I can’t put much weight on my leg. It’s a pain in my ass, but, hell, I feel better than I did yesterday. In just a few days, I’ll be good as new. As I pull Luna’s cat food from the cabinet, I remind myself how lucky I am that both bullets only hit flesh. If they had hit something else, something more vital, my career would’ve been finished, and what with someone trying to kill me and all, this would be a very inappropriate time for that to go down.

I rub my temples as I walk the short distance across the kitchen to pour Luna’s food into her dish, and I look around the apartment. Megan is gone. There’s a note taped to the back of the door. I hobble over to it and take it off with my bandaged hand.

Levi—

Had to leave, will be back to check up on you. Becky left some pills on the counter.

—Megan

I turn around and see the pill bottle on the countertop. I have a feeling I know what’s in the bottle, even before I read the label. Vicodin. I don’t know where she got it, but Becky’s a lifesaver. Ten times over.

I glance back at the note in my hand as I down two painkillers. Megan’s a great girl. First time in a while I’ve had a woman in my apartment that I didn’t stay up all night with. Unless you count Quill. I sure as hell don’t. I’m going to have to have Megan stay over again so I can rectify that. I make my way to the refrigerator. When I open it up, Luna comes running. She’d been following me around the apartment but got bored when I picked up the note. I bend down and scratch her behind the ears. She moves from whining to purring like a speedboat. I can’t help but smile. God, I wish women were this easy to please.

“I hope you didn’t use up any of your lives yesterday,” I tell her as I pour her dry food into her dish. “I may have to borrow a couple if things keep up like this.” She seems to smile appreciatively at me. I spoon her wet food on top of the dry stuff and she starts chowing down. I wish I was as good at the duck-and-cover as she is. As she gobbles down her food, I pick up her water dish, and as I’m filling it in the sink, I let my mind wander. It starts off thinking about Megan arching her back last night, and when I start thinking about her panties, my wandering thoughts are hijacked by the color green. My memory flashes another shade of green, a mint green, falling from above me, and I can vividly recall a shadowy blur appear and disappear before my eyes, remember having something tossed into the car over my eye as I was laying outside in a state somewhere between the land of the living and land of the dead. I set Luna’s water down beside her food and look for my phone. I find it on my green chair alongside my wallet and my switchblade. I pick it up and look at the Frankenstein stitching on the vomit colored armchair.

“I know how you feel,” I say as I pop open the phone and punch in Jacks’s number. I continue staring at the chair, comparing and contrasting the two of us, as I wait for Jacks to answer his phone.

“Whaddaya want?” Jacks salutation is as inviting as ever. Doesn’t really matter. I’m not in the mood for small talk anyway, so I get right to the point.

“When you pulled me out of the car yesterday, I had something on my face.”

Jacks sounds bored. “Yeah. So?”

“Where is it?”

I can hear Jacks rummaging around. “I think it’s in the pocket of the jeans I was wearing yesterday,” he informs me. “Hold on.” He sets the phone down. I wait patiently. There’s not much else I can do at this point. Somewhere downstairs Jacks utters a grunt of success before he picks up the phone again. “Yeah, I got it. Want me to bring it up?”

“Yeah.” I don’t wait for his response. I hang up the phone and walk back to the kitchen. I take two cups down from the cupboard and pour myself and Jacks a drink. Gotta start somewhere. Two minutes later, Jacks is banging on the door. I pull it open and he hands me an envelope. Mint green. I hand him a glass in return and he nods his gratitude. He leans in the doorway as I tear open the envelope and pull out the note.

Now it looks like you need my help as well. Friday, ten, Gold Note.

Again, there’s no signature. I hold it out to Jacks. “Looks like I got a date.” I light up a cigarette as Jacks reads the note and turns it over in his hands. He looks just as puzzled as I feel. He hands the note back to me and checks his watch.

“Friday is two days away,” he points out. This must be why Jacks is a cop. His power of observation.

I nod. “I’m aware of that.”

“Are you gonna go?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “I’m curious.” I turn away from Jacks and make my way to my chair. I ease myself into it with a slight sigh. Jacks stares at me.

“Are you sure you’re up for it?” he asks.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Considering the fact that you almost got killed yesterday, I thought maybe you might play it low key for a little while,” Jacks explains.

“You sound like my mother.” Jacks narrows his eyes at me. I raise my hands. “I don’t have the time to play it low key. As you just pointed out, someone tried to off me yesterday. Twice.” I take a drag off the cigarette.

“Speaking of which, what are you gonna do about this place?” Jacks asks. I raise my eyebrows. He motions around the apartment.

“I was thinking of getting some hanging plants,” I tell him. “Maybe a nice end table or an armoire for the corner.”

Jacks shakes his head. “You know what I mean, smart-ass,” he says through gritted teeth. “I’m assuming, just as you are, that someone wants you stone cold. Where are you gonna hole up?”

I look Jacks straight in the eye. “I’m staying right here. I’m not leaving this place and going on the run. Those sons of bitches know where to find me. Bring the dirty bastards on.”

Jacks clenches his jaw. “You got a fucking death wish?”

I shrug. “No, I just don’t plan on taking any more shit.” Jacks stands up straight in the doorway. What does he want me to do? Go on the lam? I’ve seen what happens to guys on the lam. They survive for a little while, maybe they survive for a long while, but in the end, they always get caught and when they do, they get what’s coming to them. I’m not gonna be one of those guys. I can tell he wants to argue some more, but he knows it’s pointless. He moves on to another line of questioning.

“Did you fuck her?” he asks.

“Who?”

“That broad that was here last night with you,” Jacks says. “Meg.”

“What makes you think she stayed over?” I ask. I intentionally avoid his question solely because I know it’ll drive him absolutely insane.

“Because I saw her leaving this morning as I was coming in,” he explains. I nod and turn my attention back to the letter. I can feel his eyes burning a hole into me.

“Well?” he asks.

I put the letter down again and stare at him stupidly. “Well what?”

“Did you?”

“Did I what?”

Jacks sighs exasperatedly. “Did you two get it on?”

“No, Jacks, we didn’t consummate our new relationship,” I tell him. “In case you’ve forgotten, I was pretty banged up and drugged up last night. It wasn’t exactly in the cards.”

Jacks scoffs. “That’s no excuse.”

“I’m pretty sure it is,” I tell him. “I could barely move without wincing.”

“If I were in your shoes, I would’ve hit it,” he tells me. I open my mouth to argue with him, but I realize that an argument would just be a waste of time at this point. I could tell him that he wouldn’t have had sex with a woman if he had just been shot and beaten, but in all honesty, I would probably be wrong. Jacks has done a lot more with a lot less.

“That’s good to know,” I respond. Jacks nods.

“I’m going back downstairs, call me if you need anything.” He starts to exit and then turns around. “You better get on top of that broad if you’re gonna do it. Otherwise, you should spread the wealth . . . with your downstairs neighbor.” With that, he turns and walks away. I get up from the chair and close the door behind him. I hobble to the futon and sit down. I gotta get some rest before Friday. I can’t go the ball looking like a mess. I light up another cigarette as I reach beneath the futon and pull out my .45. I put my feet on the coffee table and hold the gun in my hand.

It’ll give me a chance to clean my collection. The way things have been going, I get the feeling I’m going to need the whole arsenal.