Random On Tour: Los Angeles (Random Series #7) - Plot & Excerpts
But I was the person they called to fix that mess. Two days later I went home to help see my dad off to prison.“Too late,” Johnny taunted as I walked in the apartment, my brain scrambled from being on seven different semi trucks over two and a half days. Being broke meant I couldn’t afford to fly. Hitching a ride was cheap but not easy.Nothing’s easy when you’re broke.“Too late for what?” I asked. My stomach growled. I felt like a giant grease ball. Shower first. Food second. Bed third. I dumped my backpack, my bass and my acoustic guitar on the floor near the door and stretched. My palms could rest flat on the yellowed ceiling when I did that. My calves screamed and my triceps burned from the relief of blood flow.I’d see Dad in the morning. I guessed he was at Shorty’s, the bar around the corner where he hung out sometimes. Two months ago he’d called and I’d bailed him out. The damn idiot did it again last week, only this time I couldn’t bail him out. No money.
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