The Driver by Mandasue Heller

off,’ Carl grumbled. ‘Anyhow, what you doing? Fancy a brew?’
    ‘Nah, my headache’s coming back,’ Joe told him as he took his keys out of his pocket. ‘Think I’d best try and sleep it off.’
    ‘You’re a right old woman, you,’ Carl laughed. ‘I haven’t even been to bed yet, and I’ll be off to work in a bit.’
    ‘Rather you than me,’ Joe said, yawning at the mere thought of it.
    ‘Lazy bastard,’ Carl jeered, backing towards his own door. ‘See you at the party – if you can stay up that late. I should be back around two.’
    ‘I think I’m going to give it a miss,’ Joe told him. ‘You have a good one, though. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
    Tutting, Carl shook his head. ‘Such a lightweight.’
    Joe grinned, stuck two fingers up and closed his door.
    Mel was in the bedroom when Carl let himself into his own flat, playing on the games console that he’d taken off one of his customers in lieu of payment. Carl went in to get his scales out of the drawer and said, ‘Don’t tell me you’ve been there since I went out?’
    ‘Shut up – I’m trying to kill the monster,’ Mel replied snappily. ‘It’s already eaten me about a thousand times.’
    ‘At least some one’s getting lucky,’ Carl muttered, heading through to the kitchen.
    The sink was full of dirty dishes, the ledges covered in empty pizza boxes and beer bottles. Swiping some of the mess aside, Carl laid the scales on the flat surface and retrieved the weed from his jeans. Mel had been really lazy since he’d set up that console; she hadn’t cleaned up, or so much as sniffed at his dick in days. But if she didn’t get it sorted he was going to lob the damn thing out of the window. A man had needs and if his woman wasn’t fulfilling them she’d have no one but herself to blame when she found herself being replaced by someone who would.
    Someone like Cheryl.
    Now there was a face you’d be glad to see when you got home of a night. And how great it would be to snuggle up with a curvy lass instead of having to dodge jutting elbows and knees. He’d never understand why Shay had played away from home when he had a woman like her. Jayleen might be pretty, slim, and fashionable – and all the shit that seemed to matter to men who were as up their own arses as Shay was. But Carl had tried to talk to her at a party once and she’d had about as much personality as a watermelon.
    But there was no point thinking about Cheryl while she was still hankering after the idiot so he pushed her out of his mind and got on with weighing out his deals. Stashing them in his inside pocket when he’d done, along with the bags of crack that Eddie had allotted him, he went back to the bedroom.
    Mel was still trying to kill her virtual monsters. Watching from the doorway, Carl’s mood softened as his dick began to harden. She wasn’t that bad, he supposed, and she looked quite raunchy sitting there in her bra and knickers with her unbrushed hair trailing down her back.
    ‘Fancy a quick break?’ He fingered his fly hopefully.
    ‘ Carl! ’ she barked, her eyes never leaving the screen. ‘This is difficult enough without you distracting me, you dickhead.’
    Hard and soft parts swapping back to their original positions in a flash, Carl said, ‘Forget it. Oh, and Cheryl said to tell you she’s sacked the catalogue off, by the way.’
    That got Mel’s attention. Miraculously remembering where the pause button was, she twisted her head around and stared at him.
    ‘You’d better be joking – I was relying on that for some new boots. And I need a coat as well.’
    ‘Tough.’ Carl shrugged into his jacket and zipped it up. ‘Just have to save up like everyone else, won’t you?’
    Hurling a dirty look at his back when he walked out, Mel went back to her game.
    After delivering Damien’s half-ounce Carl made his way down to his spot under the canal bridge to see to his regular customers. He had a busy day ahead, starting with flogging as