“A while?” A little of the pink fluid dribbles out of the corner of Bit’s mouth. Mary ignores it and tries to pour the rest of the medicine down, but Bit’s not swallowing.
Her sick eyes blink suspiciously at Mary.
“Ugh,” Mary grimaces. “Can you get me a towel.”
I kneel down next to the bed and softly shove Mary out of the way. “Let me.” I lift Bit’s head up and wipe the sticky medicine off her cheek with the bottom of my T-shirt. Her neck feels limp as a noodle. Panic beats inside my chest like a herd of bat wings.
She moans. “Leka?”
“I’m here. I’ve got something that you need to swallow. Can you do that for me?”
Her little head bobs once. Something in my chest squeezes tight. This time it’s me holding out my hand to Mary for the medicine. When she hands me the plastic cup, I double-check the dosage line.
“I filled it right,” Mary says irritably.
I don’t say a word, but this isn’t her girl. Bit’s mine, and I’m going to be damned careful with her. I tuck her against my chest and hold the plastic cup to her mouth. “Small sip,” I say.
Bit’s mouth opens to do as I ask. I watch as she takes a difficult swallow, her throat working overtime.
“Again,” I say, and this time I force myself to be stern. “All of it.”
Her eyes flick open, and when her lips part, I dump the rest of the meds in her mouth. I rock her back and then sit her upright, and somehow, she gulps it down, coughing a bit. I grab the glass of water near the mattress and hold that to her lips. She’s able to keep a little fluid down, too.
“Was that necessary?” Mary gripes behind me.
“It worked,” I say.
“She’s a homely thing, isn’t she?”
“Who?”
“Your sister. I mean, it’s too bad God gave you all the looks. Girls need them more.”
Bit’s homely? What does that even mean? Bit’s the prettiest thing God ever made in this stupid world. Since I don’t care about Mary’s opinion, I don’t answer. I lay Bitsy back on the bed and check the time. “How long should I wait?”
“A few hours.” She leans against the counter.
I notice for the first time her shoes are off and the dress she’s wearing is sliding off her shoulder. I shake my head. I guess I gotta give her some credit. She never stops working.
“Thanks for coming, Mary. What do I owe you for the meds and shit?”
Her face, the one I once thought was nice, takes on a sly expression. “Let’s have some fun. You and me. Beefer doesn’t have to know. I’m not asking for money. Just a good time. You are clearly packing some power down in your shorts” She pushes her arms together and the sleeve falls farther down her arm, the fabric around her tits barely hanging on.
I reach into my front pocket and grab my stash. Peeling off a few bills, I leave Bitsy to walk over to Mary. Careful not to stand too close, I extend my hand. “Thanks for coming over and bringing all the stuff. This should cover it and your cab back.”
She runs her tongue along her teeth, but not in any sexy way. No, it’s more thoughtful and calculating. “You’re missing out,” she tells me.
“I suppose I am,” I concede. Arguing with her isn’t going to get her out of my place any sooner.
She sighs and grabs the money. “At least you’re not cheap like Beefer.”
I bite my tongue and walk over to the door. She toes on her shoes and rearranges her dress. As she walks out, I give her a low warning. “You should be careful who you run down Beefer to. Not everyone’s going to keep their mouth shut.”
I close the door on her surprised face.
Mary’s smart. She’s lasted longer than any of Beefer’s other steady side pieces. I try to think back to Beefer’s last chick, but I can’t remember her. She didn’t last long. Before Mary, none of them did. I don’t know why, though. Maybe it was loose lips. Maybe he got tired of them. Or maybe they got tired of him. Mary’s different, though, and I can’t puzzle out the why.
I shrug. Women seem like they’re a lot of money and hassle. Even if Mary wasn’t Beefer’s girl, I wouldn’t touch her. Something’s off about her. That said, who the fuck cares? What she and Beefer do is none of my business. My only concern is the little girl lying on the bed.
I take an inventory of the shit Mary brought. There’s another bottle of drugs. Three cans of soup and a box of crackers. Under the cracker box is a receipt. The total is $23.99. I curse under my breath. I gave Mary two hundred bucks. That bitch fleeced me. Oh well. Live and learn.