“What’s wrong with goddamn clowns?”
Nothing. He quite likes them. “I hate their red noses.”
His aunt sighs and gets up. “Try to go back to sleep. No more fucking clowns.”
“Okay.”
He lies back down, pulling the blanket below hischin. He wonders if his subconscious is trying to punish him for not being more upset about what happened, more consumed by guilt. He’s been so happy living in Van Buren, it became easy to forget the blood on his hands. Maybe it does make him a bad person, but at least the universe has given him a chance to do some good.
*
He gets his chance the following morning, after his aunt leaves for work. He’s sitting in the kitchen drinking his morning coffee and browsing the newspaper when he hears a car parking outside. The driver honks, and Owen gets up to check through the window. It’s Nate, sitting in his private car.
Owen feels a shiver crawling down his back, but he still puts on his shoes and steps outside.
Nate lowers the window. “Morning.”
“Shit, what happened to your forehead?”
“I bumped into something.”
“Something or someone?”
Nate twitches his lips like there’s something rotten in his mouth. “Someone, but I’ll handle it. You busy?”
“I wanted to put up more posters for my book club.”
Nate rolls his eyes. “How many people do you think read in this town? I’ve seen three of those damn posters already.” He closes his eyes and exhales. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude. Your posters are cool, but everyone hasalready seen them.”
Owen nods. “Okay. Can I go change first?”
“Sure, but nothing too nice. You’re buying drugs, not insurance.”
He goes to change, picking plain blue jeans and a black shirt underneath a gray hoodie.
Nate starts driving toward Eminence, clearly in a mood from the fight he had. Owen casually asks, “Did Will help with your leak?”
“What?”
“Your leak. In the kitchen.”
“Oh, yeah. It’s sorted. Did you two have a date or something?”
“It wasn’t a date.” He decides to go ahead and say, “I was surprised you came to him for help. You did warn me about him.”
“Didn’t seem like my warning meant much.”
“To you as well.”
“I know who I’m dealing with, and I can take care of myself. I needed him to fix a leak, not to be my date.”
For a moment, Owen wonders if Will had been the one responsible for the nasty bump on Nate’s forehead, but he dismisses the idea. “I can also take care of myself.”
Nate snorts, then turns up the radio. They don’t speak until they reach Eminence—the most depressing place Owen has ever seen, though he hasn’t traveled much outside of Missouri.
“Am I supposed to do the same thing as last time?” Owen asks.
“Get some coke this time.”
