Jayne Rylon

Bad enough I’d gotten fucking depressed, like actually clinically depressed, for the first time in my life.

I came dangerously close to splattering into total road kill, even picking up a few bad habits. You know, like drinking alone until I blacked out and smoking pot more than recreationally to help forget.

“I have a rush fee option, but I warn you, it’s steep.”

He doesn’t hesitate or flinch. “I’ll pay you double.”

“For twenty grand I’ll make time whenever you need me.”