After a hasty examination and sketchy stitching to close up the large laceration on his arm and deep cuts in his face, Roland lied down on the musty couch in the poorly ventilated basement. With an IV drip in one arm, he wanted to swat away the smoke with his free hand, but the fractured bone shot him with a dulled pain at every flex of his muscles, a rather shabby splint was fixed on it to prevent excess movement. Red took a hit for himself before handing the blunt back to Roland who awkwardly handled it with the IV. The room was dimly lit, unsanitary, and quite honestly sad to look at. However, at this moment, it was the only place he wanted to be at the moment. He turned over to Jamie, who sat at his feet and stared at the wall. "Man, I wonder what a doll would look like high." Red joked before taking a puff again. Roland chuckled, wincing as his broken ribs presented themselves.
"I don't know how she isn't right now." Roland added, coughing at all of the smoke in the air. Red didn't have the time to acquire any prescription drugs, but was also a part-time drug dealer so the weed was to act as a weak substitute. The contractor mused, not even Aisling knew about his pot usage. Jamie never said a word about it, but of course the agency probably knows about it. He just figured that as long as he got the job done, it didn't matter to them. Roland sneaked a look at his watch, noting 1:30 in the morning.
"You got a phone, Red?" Roland asked.
"Yeah, sure." He answered, producing a rather nice smart phone. He tossed it to Roland who fumbled with it before letting it land on the couch. After dialing Aisling's cell phone, he waited for her to pick up.