“Well, I certainly didn’t see any sign of it.”
“People are good at hiding things, Finn. You, of all people, know that.”
I did. That didn’t make things easier to swallow, though. “So, arraignment?”
“Yep. Probably he’ll get bail. Stupid driving high—but he didn’t crash. Like you said, there’ll be professional ramifications. I think he’s going to need your friendship—if you’re comfortable offering it.”
I frowned. “Why wouldn’t I? I’m supposed to be empathetic to drug users. Not their fault…” Even as I said the words, though, I remembered all the times I’d had uncharitable thoughts about addicts and how they just needed to get their act together and stop using. All while understanding that wasn’t always possible. Often, addiction didn’t respond to pulling up one’s bootstraps. “I feel like I don’t know him—like everything that’s ever happened between us was a lie.”
“Now, that’s harsh. Maybe listen to his side of the story?” He looked down at his hands. “Okay, so there’s more.”
“What do you meanthere’s more? Why aren’t you just spitting it out?”
“Easing into it?” He winced. “Look, I know Giancarlo’s a friend. I just—”
“Spit it out. I can take it.” I put way more certainty into that statement than I should have—but what the fuck ever. I couldn’t figure out why Ulysses wasn’t just laying things out. Consistently, I preferred to have all the facts before me so I could take everything in all at once and deal with the consequences—whatever they might be.
“Okay.” Again, he gazed at his hands. “This wasn’t the first time he got pulled over.”
“What the fuck?”
“Right? I don’t know who the officer was the last time. But Giancarlo wasn’t arrested—even though he’d clearly been using. So either Seth got fed up with letting him off or—”
“No way. If Seth pulled him over, and there was any sign of impairment, Giancarlo’s goose was cooked. Like last night. Seth doesn’t fuck around with that. I might not know much—but I know that. You don’t know, though?”
Ulysses shook his head. “My source is already sticking their neck out even just to tell me Giancarlo had been pulled over. But—” He stopped.
“But? No point stopping now.”
“The last time? He wasn’t in the car alone.”
I blinked. “He was driving while under the influence with someone else in the car? Again, what the actual fuck?” I rubbed my face. “I almost don’t want to ask.”
“But you want to know.”
I cracked an eye. “Yeah, I suppose I do.” I exhaled. “Who was it?”
“Marlon.”
“What?” Again, I blinked. Like, trying to align the pieces of a puzzle that just wouldn’t fit together. “But they’re not even friends.”
“No. But my source thinks they have the same dealer.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Ulysses
“Hey.” I offered my best smile as I found Finn leaning against my door the next afternoon. He looked as tired as I felt, after an evening when we’d had no answers and no recourse except to distract each other in bed. “You waiting long?”
He shook his head. “Cody let me in. Even offered to let me hang at his place until you came home. I didn’t want to intrude.”
I unlocked my door. “If Cody offered, then I doubt he saw it as an imposition. I’ve never seen him with anyone. Well, except his Aunt Genessa. That woman’s a hoot.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever met her.” Finn stepped into my condo.
I flipped on the light, closed the door, then locked it. “You okay? You look tired. I don’t think you slept much last night.”
He shrugged. “I was restless. Sorry if I woke you.”
