"You hungry?" Nate asks turning down the music in the car. His voice sounds a little funny. Like it hurts for him to speak. Almost in the same way after someone's been slowing squeezing your windpipe. I've given a couple dudes that experience firsthand.

"Nah, not really."

I'm lying right now. I'm a big boy, so I'm actually always hungry, but I don't want Nate thinking that he has to house me and feed me. That's just asking for entirely too much. Like I'm staying in some sort of free bed and breakfast for fuck ups.

"All right." He coughs a couple of times and then turns the music back up after a moment of awkward silence.

It's not good for my plan that the two of us are walking on egg shells around each other. I'm not going to get him to reveal any financial secrets like this. I'm not sure what's going on with Nate. This isn't the way I remember him being with me when I was a kid. It was easier then. Probably because we don't really know how to interact around each other any longer. It's been a long time.

Jack and I moved to New York when I was a kid. He had to move for work as a mason, which always kept him busy (at least that's what I thought was keeping him busy), so we didn't get back to Philly too much. I can't remember the last time I saw him prior to Jack's funeral. I just know that when I did, I was basically still a boy. Now I've returned a man.

A very fucked-up man.

I'm sure that part of the weirdness between us is that I've been in prison for five years, and people have their preconceived notions about what prison is like. About what it does to a man. It would be natural for Nate to have those sorts of thoughts about me. Those questions. Those assumptions. I get it and I certainly don't blame him. I don't blame anyone but myself. Besides, some of those preconceived notions are actually right on the money.

"So, I'll be staying in your daughter's old room?" I ask in an effort to make this painful ass car ride a little easier. From what I remember, Nate loves talking about his daughter. She was the center of his world back then. Can't imagine much has changed now. That's probably why that asshole Bucky brought her into this.

"Old room?" He roughly clears his throat. Something he's done ten or fifteen times since we've been in the car. I thought it was some sort of weird tic of his at first. Now I realize it's because he's sick.

"Yeah, isn't she away at school?"

Nate smirks. "I know you haven't seen her in years, but I think you forget that my daughter isn't that much younger than you. She's out of school and working."

Time flies when you're living recklessly.

"What does she do?" I ask. Curious as to the woman she's grown to be. All I remember is a quiet little girl who used to pretend she was a Powerpuff Girl when she thought no one was looking.

"My baby girl is a nurse," Nate says proudly. "After she graduated Penn she moved back in with me. She gets to save money this way, and I get the comforts of still having a woman around. She keeps the place clean and cooks most nights. I'm definitely blessed."

I didn't even think to question if Nate's daughter was still living at home. I bet that Bucky already knew that.

"You didn't mention she was living with you."

"I didn't?" He smirks as he continues to drive. "Guess I just assumed you already knew. Thought you might have been keeping tabs on us over the years. You know you kids are all on social media and stuff."

"I don't do social media."

Living with Nate is one thing, but living with both of them is something else. It puts her directly next to me, in Bucky's path, which means she's in considerable danger.

Of course, there's nothing I can do about it now. I made a deal with the devil to save my ass, so I've got to make it work or risk seeing Jack and the man upstairs much earlier than I anticipated, and that shit–is not happening.

"Does she know I'm coming?"

He gives me a momentary glance.

"Of course, she does. She's probably even cooking up something special for your arrival."

"I hope she isn't," I mutter under my breath.

Hey, you know what's funny," he says. "When she was little, especially after I lost my sweet Joanne, I would worry about her constantly. Worry that I wasn't teaching her everything she needed to know about life. All the things a girl needs to know. At least in the way that Jo would have taught her. Especially about boys and all of that. "

"Uh huh."

"Your father knew I was struggling with that. That's why the two of us made a pact. Jack and I went through a lot when we did our tour in the Gulf. We learned a lot of hard lessons. There's a little bit of evil in almost everyone, and the world is a cruel and crazy place. As you and I both know so painfully well, tomorrow isn't guaranteed. We've both lost people who we loved. That's why your father and I promised each other that we'd raise you two like blood. Raise you to take care of each other. It gave us peace of mind knowing that when this world took us you two would have each other."

I lower my head quietly. I perfected this in prison. The art of being quiet. I don't want to say out loud what I'm thinking. I can't. That pebble of guilt is rolling around the base of my throat. Making it hard to speak.

I barely know Nate or his daughter anymore. Why is he trying to act like there's some strong connection between us when there isn't? He's trying to hold me to some sort of old-school, army buddy, drunken promise that they made when they were half blitzed on beer. That's a mistake. He doesn't even know the half of it. I can't promise him or anyone anything. Not now. Not ever.

"You realize things didn't quite work out that way," I say turning my head to look at him straight on. It's the first time I notice that Nate actually looks like dog shit. "I wouldn't know Ariana if I walked by her on the street."

Nate shakes his head regretfully.

"Truth be told I didn't think Jack was going to ever leave Philadelphia. Philly is in his blood. Still to this day don't really know why he did. And then I didn't think we'd lose him so soon after that. I thought me and him had more time. Now it seems as if I don't know where the time went. You two were supposed to grow up best friends. Not strangers like this."

I don't want to talk about this shit anymore.

He's muddying the waters with this conversation.

I can't feel guilty about what I need to do.

If what Bucky says is true. Nate is a drug dealer. A heroin dealer. Just like all the others. I make no exceptions. Stealing from him will be an honor. And after I take all of his money and save my ass in the process, I'm out.

Neither he or his daughter will ever see me again.

* * *