Free Blood Lies by Daniel Kalla Page B

drifted down to the gun in his belt. “You got some kind of death wish?” he said as he gripped the weapon’s handle.
    Emily stepped between us. She physically pushed us apart and then turned to me, her embarrassment giving way to anger. “Stop it, Ben! You’re jumping to the wrong conclusion.”
    I turned on her. “How many times have I heard that from you?”
    “Well, this time you are. It’s always shoot first and ask questions later with you, isn’t it?” She turned to face J.D. and handed him the last bill in her hand. “There. That’s all of it. Now go.”
    J.D.’s grip eased on his gun. But he looked past Emily and straight into my eyes. “I don’t appreciate being treated like dog crap. Especially by a loose fucking cannon like you.”
    “It’s okay,” Emily cooed as she reached up and laid a hand on J.D.’s shoulder. I couldn’t see her face, but I could imagine her flirtatious smile.
    J.D. shrugged and broke off eye contact. He took another step away from me and turned his attention to the bills in his hand. He counted the money slowly. When finished, he grunted: “We’re good, Emily.” Then he turned and sauntered toward the door. With a hand on the doorknob, he looked over his shoulder at me. “You only get one free pass, cannon.” Then he left.
    Hands on my hips, I stared at Emily in disbelief. She flicked back her bangs, as she often did when frustrated, and then folded her arms across her chest. A moment of cool silence passed. “You want to hear what that was about or would you rather just assume you know?”
    “Remember?” I said, unmoved. “I think you’ve worn out your quota of ‘benefits of the doubt’ from me.”
    “That was a lifetime ago,” she said quietly.
    Her comment stung. “Not for me.”
    “Not for me either,” Emily said in a gentler tone. “I meant that I’ve changed, Ben. I’m in the program. I’ve been clean for months now.”
    Staring into those vulnerable blue eyes, I wanted to believe her. But I didn’t. “So what were you paying a drug dealer in cash for?”
    “My medicine,” she said.
    “I thought I was paying for that.”
    She took a step closer and touched me softly on the cheek. “You are, Ben. Thank you.”
    “So you don’t use a pharmacy?” I grimaced. “You buy them from a drug dealer?”
    “Not always.” She pulled her hand from my cheek. “A month’s worth of the prescription costs almost three thousand dollars.”
    “But I give you—”
    “I know. Some months, with the rent and everything else, I can’t afford to pay it all.” She looked away, humiliated. “I don’t have many other sources of income right now.”
    My jaw fell open. “Are you telling me that drug dealers are selling HIV medications now?”
    “This one does. At two-thirds their face value.” She sighed. “Some of his other clients get their HIV meds covered by Medicaid.”
    I chuckled, partly in relief and partly in disgust. “And they trade them in for the junk?”
    Emily nodded.
    “Jesus, Emily.” I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her tightly. “This is what it’s come to. I’m so sorry.”
    Emily was quiet in response. I felt the warmth of her face as she buried her head deeper in my shoulder. I heard her sniff once, and I realized she was crying.
     
    Helen and Rick listened to my entire account without interrupting.
    “So you were giving Emily money to pay for her HIV treatment?” Rick said, though his tone was anything but admiring.
    “For the past five or six months, I’d been supporting her. An interest-free loan, of sorts. My only stipulation was that she had to stay clean.”
    Rick’s expression was sheer skepticism. “You’re telling us J.D. was selling Emily black-market HIV drugs he got from other users?”
    I nodded.
    “Well, doesn’t that just make you proud to be human?” Helen said, flashing a glimpse of her usual self. “What I don’t understand, Ben, is why you didn’t tell us all of this that