There was no way I was going to not take this call. Joelle was something else. She was the one who got me hooked on methamphetamine. The first time she ever shot me up with meth, the high was so good, I came. I was hooked on the drug, and I was hooked on her. She was a pretty girl—blond and very voluptuous, with a great body for a drug addict—and very wild, sexually, just nasty and crazy. It was always real intense with her, real on the edge, and I never knew what was going to happen next. So when I heard her voice on the phone that day, all sexy and suggestive, that's all it took to get me excited.
I knew Joelle was dangerous, but I wasn't thinking too clear right then.
"Can you get me a sixteenth of speed?" she asked.
"No, I'm not doing that anymore," I said, keeping my voice down.
"Well, can you just go find somebody to get it for me?"
Her voice was real flirty-like. I knew if I did her a favor, I'd get something good in return. Girls who needed drugs would do anything. That's how I liked it.
"Yeah, okay," I said. "Where do you want me to meet you at?"
We worked out a plan where I would meet her in Burbank to get the cash to buy the drugs, go buy them, and then hook back up with her in Burbank. If there was one thing I had learned, it was to never buy drugs for someone without getting the money up front. People were always trying to pull something. And if she didn't pay me for the speed once I bought it, it would be worthless for me to hold out on giving it to her, since I wasn't using anymore. What I cared about was how she was planning to say thank you. I had a few ideas in mind.