Shit, it’s not like I have a steady job anymore. I took all the cash I needed and got out fast.
My bike, however, is in need of some parts and labor. I figure, as long as I’m here, I can work on fixing it. I did a number on the exterior too. I’ll probably have to strip it down to the bone.
Leaving home did a number on me. A month ago, I lost everything. Let’s just say a deal went to shit, and I couldn’t deal with the fallout.
I don’t blame the rest of the High Priests for leaving me high and dry. That’s just the name of the game. If you fuck up a deal, you better disappear and keep quiet.
If the cops find my ass, I’ll be doing some hard time in prison. But if the other gang sniffs me out, I’ll be dead.
I fled fast when the deal went sour. Now I’m using burner phones and trying my best to cover my tracks. I’m just trying to blend in.
I guess I’m not doing too great a job. That woman has me coming out of the woodwork too often. I still don’t even know her name.
For the first time since I arrived, I head deeper into town. I figure I might as well get to know the place I’m living in. But Hawke Point, New Mexico doesn’t have much going on.
There’s a place to get coffee, a place to buy liquor, and a dollar store to get some food. That’s about all you’ll find out here.
Of course, a man like me enjoys surviving on the necessities. I don’t need much.
I just need liquor.
I walk into the liquor store to buy a bottle of Jack, but I have to pause. That woman is standing in the middle of the whisky aisle, deciding on which poison will best suit her.
It’s my lucky day.
“Go for the highest alcohol content,” I tell her.
She turns and takes one look at me before her eyes fill with panic. She looks me up and down, and decides my fate almost instantly.
“Are you seriously following me?” she asks.
I nearly roll my eyes. “Honey, if I was following you, you’d know it,” I tell her.
She leans back. “Is that a threat?”
She glances at the man at the counter who stops his writing to check me out.
It’s not a good omen.
“Sorry, buck. We’re fine,” I tell him.
“You fine?” he asks my lovely neighbor.
She doesn’t want to nod, I can tell. She’s acting hard, but her tough exterior is humorous to me.
“I’m fine,” she says.
I try to behave as normal as possible. I don’t want to give her any excuses to bring any more attention on me. I’m trying to remain invisible out here, but this woman isn’t helping my situation.
“Look, I was just trying to be helpful,” I explain.
“Well, I didn’t ask for help,” she says.
But the way she’s looking at my tattoos tells a different story. I’m thinking she needs a man around to help her out a little. You know, some neighborly assistance.
“Well, I’m always here,” I reply. “I’m a good neighbor too.”
The way I say those words should let her know what I want, loud and clear. I’m a very good neighbor.