Dirty Money Read Free

finish the bottle?” I asked even though I doubted he could.
    “I don’t wanna.” Great. Now he was whining.
    “All right, sweetheart. Come on.” Reese dragged him back to the couch and sat him down. Then she rummaged in the kitchen until she found two shot glasses. She sloshed tequila into the glasses and handed one to Ryan. “I’ll help you drink it down, okay? On three.” He looked queasy. “One.” Ryan sniffled. “Two.” He frowned. “Three.” They tossed back their shots and smacked the glasses back to the table.
    Reese immediately poured each of them another, which they slammed like water. She poured another. And another. After that, I stopped counting.
    They started slowing down, each regarding the bottle as if it contained buttermilk instead of tequila. Two inches from the bottom, Ryan finally protested.
    “I can’t.” He rubbed his eyes. “No more.”
    “We are almost at the bottom. Come on.” Reese managed to sound encouraging even though she was trashed and looking nauseated too.
    “Uh-uh. Can’t see. Vision’s blurry.” Probably because he had tears in his eyes that he wasn’t aware of. “And I can’t, umm.” He pointed at his mouth. “There’s water in my mouth. It’s watering. Can’t swallow. Yeah, swallow.”
    “All right. You ready to do this?” I moved out of the way so Reese could stumble with the discarded shot glasses into the kitchen. Awesome. Now they were both going to be plastered and belligerent.
    “No. Wanna sleep.” Ryan scooted down the couch and curled up on his side. “No more tequila.”
    “Take off your shirt.” I slid an arm behind him to help him sit up. Instead of taking his shirt off, he stared at himself and plucked at the material. “Come on, Ryan.” I gripped the bottom and started working it up. “Help me out here.”
    “Coop?” He slurred.
    “What?”
    “I’m real drunk.” It was good he was pretty.
    “I know. Hold your arm up.” I lifted his right arm so I could get the shirt over his head. After that, it was easier to pull it down his injured arm.
    Reese staggered in to lean heavily on the couch. “Do you want me to hold him down?”
    “You can’t tie me down, girl.” Ryan was reclined again and talking to the couch cushions.
    “Let’s just see how the cleaning goes,” I said. I put a folded towel under Ryan’s bicep and free poured peroxide into the wound. It started to fizzle and the pus disappeared under white foam. “How does that feel?”
    “Cold.” For a second, I thought he fell asleep. “And tickly.”
    “Let it sit for a sec. I’m going to wash my hands.” I’m pretty sure he did crash out then. When I got back from scrubbing my hands pink, his eyes were closed and his chest rose and fell in perfect rhythm.
    Clumsily, Reese handed me a package of gauze as I got on my knees in front of Ryan. He moaned when I wiped away the mixture of chemicals and puss. When it was clean enough to see the inside of the wound, I poured more peroxide on. It bubbled and turned white, but not as much as before.
    “Is it clean?” Reese leaned over my shoulder to look. She lost her balance and had to hold on to me so she wouldn’t fall.
    “I don’t know. I guess.” I stood and guided her to the edge of the couch so she was sitting between Ryan and me. “Sit here so he can’t move.”
    “Okay. I can do that.” Reese straightened and placed her palm on his chest. She was taking this seriously. Adorable.
    It was now or never. Fuck. I opened the sewing kit and retrieved my needle from the peroxide.
    “What color thread do you think he wants?”
    Reese shrugged then giggled. “Is there any purple?”
    I couldn’t help laughing. Ryan hated purple. It was his least favorite color.
    “Yeah.” I unwound the purple thread and took a good five minutes feeding it into the needle.
    “Do you need some help with that?”
    “No. I think I got it.” I didn’t.
    “Do you even know how to sew?”
    “Yeah.” No.
    “You look a