I want to die — 5

“What’s in Blythe?” I hope the unasked part of my question is clear: Why drive out into the damn desert, almost all the way to Arizona? What could possibly be worth that shit? It’s already hot as fuck here, I’m clearly hungover, and I should stop this car right now until you get to explaining what this whole impromptu trip is really about. “Tyler,” Jolene says as if that’s anything. “What?” I keep staring ahead, at the road, calculating nearby drive-throughs, and maybe shitters (I feel something violent just starting to brew in a way that could end up threatening later). But I can’t keep my eyes from narrowing to a glare. The last thing my head needs is a new puzzle to solve.