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Steven

Fucking hell...what the fuck have I gotten myself into? I'm gonna go to prison forever for shooting some asshole that I technically didn't shoot. What the hell was I thinking when the cops asked who shot Nikki and i throw my hand up like a kid in school who knew the answer? I obviously wasn't sober when I said I did it. I didn't fucking do it, Izzy did it. Not that I blame him or hold anything against him. Nikki deserved to be shot. Nikki was a huge pain in our ass, I wanted him dead too. But what did I do when Izzy aimed for his head? I grabbed the gun and Izzy squeezed the trigger.

It all happened so fast. I didn't really have time to think about anything. We got in the room, Axl was under Nikki. Nikki had a needle in Axl's vein. Izzy raised his gun and I grabbed it. It went off. Nikki fell over. Izzy rushed over to Axl and shoves Nikki off. Izzy pulled Axl into him, but Axl was just dead weight. Izzy went into hysterics. He was screaming at me to call an ambulance. I tried to tell him we couldn't because the cops would show up. But Izzy wasn't hearing me at all, he just kept screaming at me to call a fucking ambulance, so I called. Then here comes the cops.

I remember watching Izzy with Axl. All he could think about was getting Axl to a hospital. Normally Izzy would just be dragging someone's ass into a cold shower. No paramedics. No ambulances. No cops. But not when the overdosing party happens to be Axl. No, that reduced Izzy to a sniffling baby. But I know he loves him. A display like that just goes even more to show it. The cops weren't going to let Izzy go with Axl. They wanted to haul us both in. Izzy begged them and I blurted out, 'I did it'. So they let Izzy go and focused on me.

Nikki had bled all over the place. I've never seen so much blood in my life. It looked like something out of a horror film. He was really pale. His lips were a strange maroon color. He looked fucking dead. Or very soon would be dead. I could tell he was shot close to his heart but I didn't know for sure if he was. But paramedics started hooking all kinds of shit to him, so he must have been barely hanging on. His death honestly didn't bother me much.

But if you can believe it, the motherfucker didn't die. The cops tell me Nikki took one right through the shoulder, missing his heart by a mere inch. Now he's gonna live and come after us all yet again? I shouldn't have grabbed the goddamn gun! Izzy would have hit him dead center in the back of the head. He would have stood over his body and given him a double tap just to make sure. A clean fucking kill. The end of his psychotics. Freedom. Pawns no more. But no! Because of me the son of a bitch lives.

Now cops are just swarming this interrogation room. They keep asking fucking questions that I know not to answer. Don't say shit and they slap you around a little. I'm already familiar with the LAPD. These southern cops can't touch those douch bags. I just sit there with a smile and my cuffed hands folded together in front of me. I'm not saying shit to these fucking pigs. "Hey, I want a lawyer," I say.

A hard hand goes across the back of my head. "You ain't getting shit until you tell us where the fucking gun is!"

"Its up your ass."

WHACK!!

"I'll as you once more," he grabs my arm and looks down at it. "Where's the gun you fucking junkie?"

I give a toothy gleam, "Up your mama's ass."

WHAP!!

My ears ring from the slap he just put across my face. Ouch! I don't say it out loud though. I just glare at him. "I ain't saying shit till I get a fucking lawyer! I want my fucking phone call!"

"Get this junkie to a phone," he says dryly.

So they take me to a phone and I call Doug. They have to talk to David Geffen about my situation. He could say fuck it and do nothing. But on the other hand he could actually help me out. That's what I'm hoping for anyway. In the meantime I have to sit and wait. I imagine the cops are still gonna try to get to me, make me rat or something. But I can't do that. Izzy can't go to jail for this. He was just trying to save Axl. Without the gun, they have no case. Izzy has the gun. I don't know what he's going to do with it but as long as the cops never find it, yeah whatever.

I wonder if anybody else would do for me what I had done for izzy? Two hands slap down on the table in front of me. "You said to the arresting officer, 'I shot him.'?"

"I did?" I ask sounding like I'm completely shocked.

"That's what you said to the arresting officer!" He yells in my face.

"I seriously doubt I did."

SMACK!!

Again with the back of my head. Fuck I hate not seeing it coming. When I can see it coming I get a split second to prepare for impact. That way it tends to hurt just a little bit less. "Hit me a bit harder so it leaves a mark you fuck!"

"If you don't tell me where the fucking gun is I'm gonna shoot you and dump your body in a crack house! It'll look like a drug deal gone bad boy!"

"Do your best man," I shrug, "what the fuck do I care what you do after I'm already dead? You can suck my dead dick, I don't care." OK. I admit that I'm begging for it. See, the cops know they can't hit me in this room because everything is being recorded. So far shit is overlooked. Everybody just looks the other way. But if i press charges for the cops abusing me they have to cough up the tape in court. So they cover their asses by trying to refreign from leaving lasting marks. So I do my best to push them. I like watching steam roll out their ears.

"So you're some kind of rock star?! Mister California rock star!! You think rock stars get to just shoot people and walk away?! Not in the great state of Alabama boy!!"

"Why not, you cops do." I huff.

He grabs the back of my neck at the pressure points. I wince. "You aren't anything but another useless junkie."

"A junkie with more money than you!" And he squeezes my neck harder. "I want a fucking lawyer!"

So finally word gets to me that David Geffen has agreed to pay back and shit. He called some lawyer out of Atlanta to come to me at the jail in Alabama. It took four fucking hours for him to get here. By then my ass is numb, my nerves are shot. And I'm sobering up. Yeah, not good. So they set my bail at $60,000. David Geffen wires 6 grand. And I'm out. I'm taken by link back to our hotel.

"What the fuck happened?!" Doug shouts at me the second else take off.

"Fucking Nikki...he abducted Axl! He cut him all to hell and who knows what else. Me and Izzy showed up just as he was about to off Axl with an overdose of smack!"

"Couldn't you fuckers just hit him in the head with something?! Did you have to go and fucking shoot him?! And where did you get a gun?!"

"I don't have a gun and I didn't shoot Nikki," I shake my head, "Izzy shot Nikki with his gun."

"Izzy shot him? Then why are you taking the rap?" He asks me curiously.

I shrug, "Cause those cops don't have shit on me. Izzy was going crazy man, no way could be gave handled cops asking questions. He just wanted to stay with Axl. If I didn't say I did it Izzy would have gone down to the station in cuffs with me. And he would have gone nuts on them probably. He wouldn't have been cool enough to sit there like I did."

Doug sighs, "I swear to god, you kids are gonna be the death of me...or yourselves."