She Coyote

39. DEADLY ENCOUNTERS

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BOBCAT
I stared at the wall in front of me as the phone continued ringing out through the space of my apartment. I knew who it was. It was my death, it was my final destiny that someday would run to me with open arms, taking me down into a murky, shady abyss. I bit my lip. I couldn't avoid him forever.

I quickly crossed the room and picked up the phone, squeezing it right against my ear. "H-Hello?" I stuttered out, my feet rubbing against each other anxiously.

"Times up. Where's my money?" His dark, gravely voice greeted me like a hurricane, predicted but still catastrophic. I ran my fingers down the length of my trembling arm, cushioning the phone between my ear and my shoulder.

I gulped, closing my eyes. My voice was broken as I spoke. "Look, Randy, I know...I know I keep pressing you, but I just need a little more time, okay? I've been out of business for a while, I just...it's hard for me right now to bring myself to—"

"No, uh-uh, we had a deal, princess. You fuck horny old men, they give you money, you give me money, I give you heroin, that was it." He gritted out, his thick New York accent only putting me more on edge.

I slid down onto my couch, my head resting in my hand. "Randy, I'm...I can't. I'm dying." I whimpered out, curling my legs up to hold against my chest. I was afraid to ask him what I needed to ask him, but my mind was spiraling out of control and I couldn't handle my sobriety for much longer. "I just...maybe...maybe if I had a little bit more I could—"

"No. I'm not giving you any more shit until you pay me, got that?" He barked, making me jump.

"Randy, please, I can't take it anymore. I can't get any from anywhere else, you're the only dealer in town right now, please, Randy?" I bit my lip so hard it was hurting. I balled my fist as tightly as I could, the desperation taking over my sanity. "I can't..I can't do anything, I can't fucking think, let alone work. Please, just a little bit more, please. I'll do anything." I felt tears building up behind my eyes, my teeth chattering from my nervousness. He exhaled.

"No." He stated and my heart fell through to the floor.

"Randy—"

"Get me my money within the next two days or else I'll have my guys teach you a fucking lesson, alright? And don't think you can play you're little fucking games with your dumbass group of meth heads, they won't do shit to their only dealer, so don't even fucking try, got it?" He snapped, the only emotion I was able to decipher being just incredibly rage. He was furious, his voice shaking with the fury.

I couldn't manage to speak, I couldn't even whimper out so much as a pathetic sound before he hissed one last time into the speaker, "Two days," then hung up.

My rage filled me up and my head felt like it was exploding. All I wanted to do was scream, so I screamed and through the damn phone to the ground, immediately retracting and covering my tear stained eyes with my trembling hands. I dug my nails into my scalp, strangled hiccups puffing out from my lips every few seconds. What would I do? What was wrong with me?

I felt the withdrawal sinking its claws into my sanity. It seemed like every ounce of me hurt, physically and mentally. I couldn't keep my shit together, all my loose threads were coming undone.

I couldn't push myself to sell my body anymore, not after the injuries to my body from deranged men and irreversible mental damage that came along with it. I was worn out, it was no longer an option.

But there was no way for me to pay back my debt. Nothing could get me the money I needed as fast as me fucking guys willing to pay me hundreds for one night. I couldn't get a job or keep it, I was stuck.