Country music pounded in Kazimir's head as he nursed his beer. Sticky sweat clung to his body from the lack of air conditioning amid the small pub chock full of drunkards. Unable to bear the heat, he rolled up his hoodie's sleeves and fanned his warm face with his hand.

Kazimir glanced over at Charlie, who munched on his basket of onion rings. While he kept his attention focused on a group of beautiful, scantily-clad ladies, Kazimir swiped a few for himself. It wasn't like he'd notice.

Patrons maneuvered between tables of carefree folks. It was easy to spot the small-time dealers, desperate to hand anyone goodies stashed in their pockets. Kazimir gulped down more of his beer as a young man with reddish hair neared their table. A plastic baggie protruding from his leather jacket caught his eye. Shouldn't he conceal that better? Anyone could swipe it from him. Kazimir was tempted to, just to prove he could.

Before the man reached their table, he tripped on his own untied shoelace, barely staggering back to his feet before falling face-first onto the grimy floor. Kazimir resisted the urge to roll his eyes. How pathetic. Even he never did something so embarrassing while dealing.

"When will she be here?" Kazimir asked, nudging Charlie's elbow.

Charlie turned around, shrugging. "Soon. Don't worry. I got my sources. She knows she'll be here."

"Mmh." Kazimir nodded. He polished off his alcohol, pushing the glass away. "Be right back."

"Huh? Oh yeah, sure."

Kazimir rose from the chair, its legs squeaking against the wooden floorboard. Strobe lights flashed in his eyes as he shouldered his way through a group of laughing men who smelled like booze and shit. He hated that damn nightclub. Too many people. Too much atrocious music gave him a migraine.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

In the back of the building, he made his way into the men's restroom, where he found a guy snorting coke off the sink. A malodorous stench lingered in the air. He didn't even notice Kazimir walk in as he made his way into a stall, locking the door behind him. He yanked his phone out, pulling up Emmett's contact. He sent him a few texts, updating him on their little adventure so far. Charlie told him not to say anything, but he couldn't keep it a secret from Emmett.

Someone retched their guts out in the stall beside him, echoing over the pulse-pounding music outside. Kazimir cringed, resisting the urge to bolt from the restroom stall and head back outside into the crisp night air. It had to smell better than hell's asshole, as he affectionately named the place.

As he read over Emmett's response, sudden footsteps made him freeze. A pair of ragged Nike's stood in front of his stall. Before he could say something, they pounded their fist on the door. Kazimir almost dropped his phone. However, he regained his facilities and swapped his phone for his switchblade. Were they followed? Did Mal's killer wait for him outside the stall?

In a swift motion, Kazimir lifted the latch and flipped his blade, directing the sharp point against the man's throat. It was the reddish-haired dealer. The man stumbled back, eyes widened like two saucers as he let out a yelp of surprise. Fear lingered on his face as Kazimir retracted the blade, but he kept it close to him.

"What do you want?" Kazimir questioned.

"Are-Are you the painter?" he stammered.

"Who wants to know?" Kazimir took tenacious steps forward, not allowing himself to be trapped inside the filthy stall.

"Um, me. Name's Jack." He gestured his hand out to shake, lowering it awkwardly when Kazimir didn't accept it.

"What do you want, Jack?" Kazimir narrowed his eyes at the taller man.

"I'm a huge fan of your works. They inspired me to make my own. You ever seen the tags in Hell's Hollow with the ravens?" he asked.

"Nope, never noticed them."

Jack's expression faltered, yet it didn't deter him. "That's okay. I didn't expect such a legend to notice my stuff. But I just happened to see you here. I had to talk to you. I would've said something back at the table, but your pal looked kinda unfriendly."

"Are you stalking me?" Kazimir asked.

"What? Oh God, no. Shit, I'm sorry. That's not what this is, I swear." Jack shook his head. "Fuck, I'm such a dumbass. I didn't mean to scare ya or anything. I only know so much about you cuz of my friend, Snake Charmer. He tells me all about your works."

"You waited to get me alone in the restroom." Kazimir raised his switchblade back up to the man, aiming it toward his lips. "I don't trust you."

"Wait, man. Let's start over, okay?" Jack pleaded, reaching a hand out for him.

Kazimir cut that shit out real quick as he reeled back, avoiding his touch. "Come near me again and I'll stab you. If you follow me out of here, my friend won't be as lenient with you."

"I'll leave. I'm sorry for bugging you.." Jack sulked, hanging his head low as he trudged out of the restroom.

Only when Jack left did Kazimir put his switchblade away and wash his hands. He kept a close eye on the door, as if expecting the weirdo to return. What the hell was wrong with him? While Kazimir loved praise for his art, he wasn't ignorant enough to let some creep trick him with praise. Why the hell did he follow him to the stall?

To his relief, Jack didn't loiter around outside the restrooms and he didn't see the guy anywhere else in the pub as he made his way back to his table with Charlie. What a strange encounter with a fucking fruitcake. Was it really a coincidence that he found him there? Kazimir didn't think so.

"A weirdo followed me into the restroom. Waited for me outside the stall," Kazimir explained.

"Did he do anything? You need me to go beat the hell outta the pervert?" Charlie's face reddened as he clenched his fist on the table. "Where's he at?"

"No, I'm fine. I threatened to cut him with my knife," Kazimir replied. "And I think he left. It was just creepy."

"If you see him, tell me. I'll teach that fucker a lesson, got it?"

Kazimir grinned. "Yeah, I'll let you know. Have you seen Jules around yet?"

"Nah, but she'll be here soon. Maybe she's running late. The ladies take forever to get ready." Charlie took a bite of his onion ring, dropping crumbs on the table.

"She might not show up tonight. Maybe she's taking the night off to mourn," Kazimir pointed out.

"She didn't even come to Mal's funeral." Charlie glared down at the table, a mix of emotions twisted in his expression before he gulped some of his beer and slammed the glass back down on the table. "Fuck kinda worthless girlfriend is she, huh? Can't even come to her baby daddy's burial. Mal deserved better."

"Sounds like she didn't really love him."

Charlie snorted. "Oh, she didn't. Only reason she stayed with him was for the free drugs and bed."

Minutes ticked away, surmounting Kazimir's doubts that she'd even show. But when the door walloped open, a scrawny young woman staggered inside. Her uncombed, chestnut hair resembled a bird's nest. The sparkly neon pink tank top she wore clung around her frame like saran wrap about to burst at the seams. Her belly protruded from the very tail end of the shirt, yet she didn't seem bothered by it.

Nothing but pity filled Kazimir's heart as he watched her walk toward their table. Her makeup looked rushed, as if she'd applied it on her way there. She almost resembled a clown, but Kazimir kept those thoughts to himself. Jules was going through a lot, which Kazimir couldn't understand why she'd bother to come to the club.

Charlie flagged her down before she could breathe a word to anyone else. What was his plan? He didn't really consider just asking her questions about Mal right there in the club, did he? Anxiety clawed at Kazimir's throat as she sauntered over to their table, pursing her crimson lips in a seductive smile as she tried to flirt with Charlie, even going as far as rubbing his shoulders.

Kazimir resisted the urge to cringe. Instead, he ate another one of Charlie's onion rings. Uncomfortable was an understatement to how Kazimir felt, slouching in his seat as Charlie played along with her. Did she not even remember him? Her own boyfriend's best friend?

Some people really disconnected with the world around them when they got high. Maybe they did it to mask different kinds of pain. Kazimir wasn't sure. He just hoped he never sunk that low. 

"We should take this back to my truck." Charlie winked, earning a playful giggle from her.

"Sure thing, just lead the way," Jules linked her arm with his after they stood up.

"Come on, Kaz." Charlie glanced down at him.

"Oh, is your little friend here gonna watch us?" Jules asked, resting her head against his beefy shoulder. "You didn't mention being into voyeurism, but I don't mind. It'll cost ya extra."

That was the last thing Kazimir ever wanted to witness. 

While Jules giggled and clung to Charlie, Kazimir hovered behind them, trailing close at their heels. He stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets, lowering his head. When she realized what they really wanted from her, she wouldn't be too pleased about the deception. Kazimir only hoped things worked out.

Once outside, Kazimir bathed in the fresh air. No more smelly drunks and smog. Jules' laughter echoed in his head like a screechy bird. Why was she trying so hard to act like that? Kazimir couldn't understand the ration behind her flirting. Perhaps she was too high to even realize what she was doing.

At the mouth of the ally, Kazimir halted in his tracks. Jules followed Charlie blindly without a second thought. Wasn't she aware of the dangers? Did she not even care about herself or her unborn baby? Kazimir hesitated before plunging down into the dark depths, hugging his arms tightly around himself. He had a horrible feeling about what was about to happen.

Charlie pressed Jules against the brick wall so suddenly, Kazimir thought he'd smashed her head against it. Her girlish giggle echoed into the night as she threw her arms around Charlie, combing her fingers through his neckbeard. How much longer would they keep that up?

"You just gonna stand there and watch?" Jules asked, poking her head out in his direction.

Kazimir had enough of the games. Instead of putting on a performance, he stepped over to them, leaning against the building to come face to face with the young woman.

"It's possible you were the last person to see Mal alive. We want to talk to you," Kazimir explained.

Jules blinked, her salacious facade cracking as her lips twitched into a frown. "You're those rebels?"

"You're so fucked up, you don't even know who I am, do you?" Charlie grumbled.

"Should I know you?" Jules asked, tilting her head. Sparkly blue eyeshadow made her squinty eyes pop, yet nothing showed recognition in her face. She really didn't know who he was.

"I was Mal's best friend, you stupid cunt." Charlie reeled back, releasing his grip on the girl. He wiped his hands on his jeans.

Jules straightened her tightly fitted tank top, turning to face Kazimir. She pursed her lips in a smile as she planted her hands around his hips, as if that was supposed to do anything. "You were Mal's friend too?"

"Uh, yeah." Kazimir furrowed his brows, gently trying to tug her arms away to no avail. "We wanted to ask you about his dealings and if anyone has been upset with him lately."

"If you want answers, it'll cost ya."

"Goddamn whore probably killed him herself," Charlie muttered under his breath.

"If you wouldn't mind, would you let go of me?" Kazimir asked, wriggling to get himself free from her grasp. "We're not trying to hook up with you or anything, if you got the wrong impression."

The pain that glistened in her eyes surprised Kazimir as she dropped her hands, taking a few steps back. Her gaze shifted between the two of them and the alleyway opening. Kazimir knew she was about to make a run for it, but before she had the chance, Charlie caught her by the arm and yanked her back.

"You're gonna answer us, bitch. I didn't fuck around here all night for you to just run away. If you know who killed Mal, you better tell me. Cuz if I figure out you knew who did him in and didn't tell me, I'll hunt you down myself and-"

"Please, I don't know. It was probably someone from your rival. He messed around with them a lot." Jules scratched at Charlie's forearm, but he didn't budge. "You can't force me to do anything. I'll scream."

"Scream all you fucking want. I don't care."

"Charlie, maybe you're being a bit too rough." Kazimir touched his shoulder, causing him to loosen his grip on her arm.

"You should look into those Black Vipers." Jules trembled. "There was a guy Mal talked to a lot. Went by the name Jack."

Kazimir froze, recalling the peculiar man he'd encountered in the restrooms. Was that whackjob Mal's killer?