We came rolling up to her daddy’s house at about 4am. I was driving, slowly, lights out. Creeping sort of. She knew exactly where to go.
“It’s the second house up there on the left,” she said, throwing her arm in front of me and pointing. I looked over at the big house with the wall around it. The whole situation suddenly felt exactly like it was. My cold sweats started up again as the car slowed.
“That big one?” I asked.
I brought the car up to the sidewalk and switched the engine off. The music stopped playing and everything went so quiet. There was a little cricket whistling somewhere to the side. I threw my cigarette out the window and turned to her. She was putting her lipstick on in the mirror. She had gone for red today. I watched her pout those full red lips out at herself.
“So what are we doing then?” I asked.
She raised an eyebrow and turned her eyes to me. I saw one of those little smiles come across those big red lips. She kissed the color out. She turned to me and took my hands. My cold sweaty hands.
“Okay, so first, we’re going in. You’re going over the wall. There will be a keypad on the left hand pillar, next to the gate. You press the little green button. That one opens the gate. Then I come in.”
“Okay, so then we go round the back. We can break in through the back door. We creep upstairs, go into their bedroom and tie those motherfuckers up. You deal with that bitch. I’ll take care of that piece of shit.”
“Okay” I said again, looking down at my cold hands in hers. They looked just fine without any blood on them. I exhaled with some force. I just wanted her to know how I felt about all of this. I wanted her to know that I would do anything for her. But I wanted her to know that she could never ask me for more than this. This was my limit.
“Look, I know that you don’t want to do this. But my ‘for’ is much stronger than your ‘against’. I need to do this. And I need you to help me.”
I looked up at her and smiled. Her big eyes were blinking softly at mine, soaking up and keeping tight. I looked back at her hands, and nodded.
“Great! Now get that coke out. We need some electricity.”
I smiled. I went into the glove box and pulled out the wrap. This was the last of the coke we bought before we left LA. Almost eight grams of electricity had rushed around our body in the last three days. Through our noses, into our blood, into our heart, into our liver and out somewhere, into something. We forced ourselves to leave just one more line each for this. We didn’t want to need something we couldn’t get. We were in crystal meth country. And we knew that we’d rather crave coke than end up craving crystal. But leaving those two big lines had been hard. When you’d been thrashing it like we had it was tough to just stop. You could hear the shit whispering at you from the glove box, drowning out the growling of the engine and the grinding of your teeth. We’d been hitting it for what felt like weeks. But that was only cause we hadn’t slept for days for the tweaks and the twists.
“Okay, but me first. You owe me that much” I said with a smile.
“Of course sugar” she replied, leaning over and kissing my hair.
I pulled out the Cadillac manual and carefully poured what was left out onto the picture of our big red car. I started moving the stuff around with Mr. Daniel Ford’s maxed out credit card, taking every last grain and shifting it around. Poor Mr. Daniel Ford, whoever he was. I stopped and looked at the big fat lines. They were identical. I felt my hand start to shake a little and my heart start to race. I cut a little of mine and pushed it onto hers. She needed that extra power. Damn triggers are heavy rocks to move. I rolled up my last Andrew Jackson and leant into the book. I looked right into the front seat where I sat and vacuumed the line, passing her the book and closing my eyes. I sucked the stuff back into my throat as I let my face freeze. I felt my hand steady but my heart start to thump in my chest. I looked at my dark eyes in the mirror. They looked like they were dying with a fight.
I watched her lean over and blast the last of what we had. She sat up and wiped her nose. She grabbed my hand licked my fingers. She rubbed them across the manual, getting every little bit we’d missed, and put them into her mouth. I felt her soft tongue run around my fingers. I started to get hard. I kissed her. I smelt her hair, felt her body and tasted the last of the coke. I wanted to grab her and fuck her right there in the open air. Forget all this madness for a few minutes. But we both needed this buzz. I opened the glove box and pulled out our guns. I had mine and she had hers. I saw those dying eyes of mine in the reflection from the barrel. I checked the chamber and hoped that there would only be one bullet missing from each by the time we reached Playa del Carmen.
“Alright,” she said, throwing the manual onto the back seat “let’s go kill my daddy!”