Ice Cube is rapping on a track by Scarface right now. Two West Coast legends tear up the mic. “An open and shut situation. Cop get got they wanna blame it on my occupation.”

I’m bleeding worse than I first thought, it’s pooling between my legs now, I never thought I’d bleed like this on the seats of my beloved car and not give a thought to the upholstery. When I go to turn down the music, my bloodsoaked fingers slide on the shiny silver knob. I decide not to roll the window down further, keeping my other hand firmly clamped over the searing heat of the bullet hole.

I knew this was coming. This whole night was tinged with a sick feeling of deja vu. I keep replaying the last five hours. Val’s eyes when the knife entered her abdomen. How it took a minute for me to figure out the screams were coming from me. Aaron clubbing me with a wrench out of nowhere and shooting me with my own gun. Damn tonight. I decide I do need to pull over for a moment, after all. Turning the car moves my hand, the blood flows.