The phone only rang twice before Lloyd, Vin’s AA mentor, picked up the phone.
“Hey Jack,” Lloyd said. Voices in the background, he was out somewhere, or maybe just watching television, Vin couldn’t tell.
Vin couldn’t speak. He just stared at the phone like it was a snake, wanting and yet, desperately not wanting, to say anything.
“Vin?” Lloyd asked, tone dropping into concern. “You okay, kid?”
Vin got the words out in a hurried, rough whisper. “I screwed up. I need help.”
“You at home?” Lloyd said. When Vin muttered something that was probably meant to be yes, Lloyd added, “I’m on my way.”
Vin hung up.
“Son of a bitch.” He laid his head down on the kitchen table, felt his apartment spinning under his butt, the gentle rocking motion of the world soothing and sickening at the same tim
