The Sweet Forever: A Novel (DC Quartet Book 3) by George P. Pelecanos

Author:George P. Pelecanos [Pelecanos, George P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780316204507
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2011-08-14T22:00:00+00:00

Richard Tutt had an apartment in Silver Spring Towers, just a half mile over the District line on Thayer Avenue. He had stopped at the Safeway across the street on Fenton, bought a few Hungry Man dinners and a box of ice-cream sandwiches, and parked his Bronco in the side lot. He took the elevator up to his place.

Tutt lived in downtown Silver Spring for its proximity to his work. This was as close as you could get to D.C. without actually having a District address. Tutt would never live in a place where he was in the minority, though sometimes it seemed as if Silver Spring was headed that way, too. Looking down to the street, he could see the spics and the spades, the punjabs and the A-rabs, walking up toward the Metro or waiting for Ride On buses, or hauling those two-wheeled carts of theirs up to the grocery store. Tutt was thinking of moving to the country, maybe toward Frederick or out 29, where you could still get a lot of house for the money and some open land. The commute was hell, but at least out there you could wake up in the morning and say hello to your own kind.

Tutt’s two-bedroom apartment was sparsely furnished, a floor mattress in one bedroom, a This End Up living-room set and a dining-room table from his parents’ old house in the living area. A bench, some free weights, and a floor-to-ceiling mirror sat in the spare bedroom.

Tutt’s parents were dead. He didn’t have many friends to speak of. He guessed Murphy was his best friend, although Murphy always had some kind of excuse when Tutt suggested they get together outside work. Tutt occasionally saw his sister, who had rowed with one oar in the water since she was a little kid, but only on special holidays and on her birthday. He generally avoided her because her husband, Tutt’s light-in-his-loafers brother-in-law, came with the package.

Other than his sister, Tutt never brought girls to his apartment. He didn’t like waking up next to a woman he didn’t know, and he especially didn’t like the awkward way it felt after you pulled out and there was nothing more to say.

Tutt hadn’t had a girlfriend since the tenth grade. Tonight, like most weekend nights, he had no plans.

Tutt got back in the baby blue Bronco and drove over to the Erol’s on East-West Highway. He picked out a Death Wish movie he thought he might have rented before, though he couldn’t tell from the box. One of those was interchangeable with the next, and Tutt thought all of them were pretty good. Charlie Bronson wreaking righteous havoc on a bunch of rug-heads and Third World cretins. Nothing better than that.

He went back to his apartment, did four sets of fifty push-ups, undressed, and picked up a fuck magazine that lay on the floor by his bed. He leafed through the mag and played with himself a little, but he couldn’t make his dick stand up, so he went into the bathroom and took a long, hot shower.

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