Chapter 18Joe curled into a tight ball. The pounding on his door grew louder, more insistent. “Go away, Margo. Leave me alone, Daddy,” he whispered, slipping his head below the threadbare blanket.
“You in there or not?” There was one last blow to the door, sounding more like a kick than a knock. Joe opened his eyes. The male voice outside his door was not his father’s. He sat up in bed, looking around the YMCA room, seeing his trench coat thrown over the only chair, his pants and shirt in a ball on the floor. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and combed through his hair with his fingers.
“Yeah, I’m here,” Joe said.
“Well, why the f**k didn’t you answer?”
“I was sleeping.”
“Great. You got a woman on the phone out here. You wanna talk to her or not?”
Joe’s first thought was that it w
