Chapter 14
He would rather have shit his pants. He hadn’t taken a shit in three days. Wade had warned him that prolonged constipation was the last of the warning signs as the baby’s “escape chute,” he’d called it, expanded, beating back the rectum for unfettered access to—well, to the world. He made his speech, cast his vote, shook some hands and had his picture taken, and then bolted for 14thAvenue and a cab. The driver was pissed—four blocks wasn’t much of a fare—but Cassidy didn’t dare hoof it, lest these fucking contractions—If I do ever see Jax again, I’ll kill his can’t-put-on-a-condom ass, I swear I will—drop him in the street and he be forced to shit out a baby in front of the World’s First Quizno’s