He finally realized she was staring very intently. "Hey, what's wrong?" She held back a tear. "Nothing sweetheart, I am just so happy rightnow." "Wow ... don't know what to say." "You don't have to say anything. Just take me home." "Okay sweetie." He drives her to his home. Carlos is not rich but he does okay. As theydrove up, she wasn't expecting him to have such a nice home. Carlos helps her with her bags and as they approach the door he puts them down, opens the lock, and picks her up so quick. Steady, boy. Give it time. He found his wristwatch and peered at the luminous hands. It was twenty minutes after eleven, only eight hours since he'd drunk the gunk. The room was as hot as a bayou prison, and Dave got up with the sludge sliding in his belly. He walked to the window, overlooking the gaudy neon signs and flesh parade of Bourbon Street, and stared down at the throng of sinners. The bass drumbeat pounded at his attention. His gaze found the red neon that said Kitt's House. Beneath. More

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