Chapter 21
TIM
“Come on now,” Brody says. “I know you’re selling some of that shit to Ethan and Martin.”
“I have one drop tonight, and only enough for that, okay?”
He’s never pressed for coke before, but he’s told some of his friends that he might be able to get some from me, and now he’s pressing. Unfortunately for him, I got some on me tonight for my next clients, but I don’t have any extra. Not tonight.
“My buds would be so appreciative,” he says. “And I said I could get it for them. Can’t you like find a way to hook us up?”
“I’m not dicking you around, Brody. I only have enough for my next delivery. Nothing extra.”
I don’t mask the frustration in my tone.
He twists his lip.
“I don’t feel bad about disappointing your little buddies,” I say. “I don’t care what you say to them to get them off your ass, but I don’t have any to sell you. Got that?”
He hands me the three hundred for his weed and pockets what he was intending on buying the coke with.
I give him his weed, and he sulks, but he’ll deal.
“It’s all good, bud,” Brody says. “All good, right?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Just don’t put me in this position again.
Don’t tell your friends I got shit when you haven’t even talked to me.
You know you could have just texted. Now if you need some scripts for them tonight, I got a good supply.
Next time, if you need something extra, I need like a week’s notice, okay?
Coke isn’t falling from the sky, you know? ”
“No prob. Got it. All ears.”
He heads off, and I look around for Mark. He’s in the corner, chatting with a few of his friends.
He came to this party on his own. I just happen to be here because of my runs.
This is technically our one month anniversary. Best fucking month of my life.
He’s been hanging around the house with me and Nanna a lot, but I keep itching to do more with him.
Take him on a date like he deserves. I’m not complaining because I like talking to him.
Getting to know him. Being around him. Even if we’re just sitting in front of the TV for a movie. But he deserves more than that.
I grab a beer from a cooler beside the dining room table and hang a bit, chatting with a guy I talked to the last time I came to one of Brody’s parties. While we’re chatting, I keep looking at Mark. Can’t help myself.
He glances over at me, and as our gazes meet, he beams. It reminds me what a fucking lucky guy I am.
But what a stupid one he is.
He doesn’t need people thinking he’s connected with a guy like me.
And I saw Greg not five minutes ago, so I know word’ll get around real quick if he catches on to what we’re up to.
All I keep thinking about is how I want to be a better guy for him. Want to find another way of living.
Maybe if I took this meth gig, then I could pay off all the bills like Jesse said and get on to a better life, a life that we could share together—one worth living that isn’t all about dealing.
What the fuck I’ll do, I’m not sure. I just know that if I want to make it work with Mark…
for real…and I do, that means becoming more than a low-life drug dealer.
Strange to think that before I met Mark, I would never have questioned this life.
I didn’t have a future outside of Nanna, so the idea of needing to change or be something different never popped up.
There was always a desire to do something else.
I don’t think anyone plans on being a drug dealer any more than they plan on being a porn star.
But considering how good the money’s always been to me, I didn’t consider the possibility of doing anything else.
I didn’t care about much before. Now, I care about a lot.
I want to be able to take care of Mark if something ever happens to him.
The way I take care of Nanna. I want him to be proud of me and what I do.
To know he doesn’t need to hide me from his friends or family or risk their reputations.
Mark gets up and starts toward me. I want to tell him to back off, but at the same time, it’s nice that he’s not ashamed of being seen around me, even though he should be.
“Jeff was catching me up on some stuff about Morgan,” he says, acting as though he hasn’t just violated our big rule. “Evidently, he and that new guy are moving in together now. He moves fast.”
“What are you doing over here?”
“I’m not ashamed of what we’re doing,” he says, his expression serious.
I know he’s been thinking about this for a while because he keeps pressing when we’re alone—keeps trying to get me to fucking come to one of these things with him.
I know it wouldn’t be as big of a deal as I make it in my head, but I don’t like the idea of people gossiping about him.
About thinking he’s making this horrible life choice by being with me.
About telling him what an idiot he is for thinking something could ever work out between us.
“You don’t need your mom barking down your throat about this,” I say, using my only bargaining chip with him right now.
“Who the fuck here is going to blab to her, really?”
“I just saw Greg five minutes ago, and considering he’s the son of your mom’s lawyer, you know it’d get around.”
He rolls his eyes.
“Like I give a flying fuck. Shut up. Just be glad I’m not kissing you right now, okay?”
“I’m not happy about that at all.”
He winks and smiles. He’s come a long way from that night when he felt like shit after Greg tried to win him back.
“I’m about to head out,” I say.
“I’ll walk you out to your bike.”
“Oh, you are just trying to get in trouble now.”
“Maybe.”
“Now come on,” he says. “Let’s go because the sooner we get out there, the sooner I can get my goodbye kiss.”
Goodbye kisses. Something else I’ve grown to appreciate.
Only with Mark.
My bike sits next to the cars in the packed driveway. As we approach it, I hear behind us, “Hey, Tim!”
I turn around and see Brody heading toward us, two guys trailing behind him.
Judging by his wide-eyed expression, these guys have encouraged him to make an introduction to see if maybe they can work up a deal with me. Considering how much money he offered me, I’m amazed he thinks this’ll work.
One of the guys behind him with curly dishwater-blond hair wears a cream-colored long-sleeved shirt, jeans and boat shoes.
The guy with him is dressed more fratty—bright blue hoodie, jeans, and Pumas.
Both well over six-feet tall, I can tell by their swagger that they’re a little too cocky—the kinds of guys who are used to getting what they want from mommy and daddy.
I don’t say anything. Just stand there as they approach, the guys behind Brody stumbling enough that I suspect they probably already need to call it a night.
“Look,” Brody says, “I told them you didn’t have any on you, but—”
“Come on, man,” the guy in the long-sleeved shirt says. “We can pay triple what your regular guys would pay you. We just want a little for tonight. Even if you take it from your stash for one of your clients, what’s the chance they’ll know?”
“It’s not gonna happen, guys,” I say. “Sorry to be a buzzkill, but you’ll be getting your blow through someone else tonight.”
“Seriously?” the guy in the hoodie asks. “You won’t go for triple for your shit? That’s bullshit. Brody, I think your guy’s got a problem with a little more than what we’re offering.”
He approaches me quickly. In a way I can tell this is going to be trouble.
“What’s wrong with our money?” he asks.
Mark steps between us.
“Mark,” I say. He doesn’t know how guys like this can get. I grab him and start to pull him back, but he pulls away.
“Can we calm down?” he asks.
“I’ll calm the fuck down when your boyfriend gives us some fucking crank, you little faggot.”
Rage swells within me.
Faggot?
Why the fuck did he take it there?
I see red. I want to pound the shit into that stupid face of his, but Mark puts his hand out before me, letting me know that that’s the last thing that needs to happen right now.
I’ll just make the situation worse, and if Mark wasn’t here, I wouldn’t mind, but I’m not putting him in the middle of this bullshit any more than he already is.
“Guys, let’s go back inside,” Brody says.
It’s shitty that he has to deal with this, but he shouldn’t have told them I could hook them up to begin with.
That’s not how this works.
“Come on, Tim,” Mark says. He grabs my jacket and pulls me toward the bike.
“I’m not done talking to you, fairy,” the guy in the hoodie says.
I swing around as he snatches my arm and throws a fist with his other hand.
Mark shoves me back and the guy’s fist hits Mark right in his temple, pushing him back onto the driveway.
I’m going to tear his fucking face off.
I race for the guy, but his friend tackles me from the side. He pushes me up against a car in the driveway and slams his fist into my ribs a few times.
The hoodie asshole squats down, grabs Mark by his shirt collar, forces him to his feet, and punches him again. And again.
Brody hurries to him.
Mark gets a punch in right before the guy punches him so hard that Mark hits the ground.
“Fuck!” Brody shouts, grabbing Mark’s attacker’s shoulders and pulling him back.
“Dude, it’s over. It’s fucking over!”
I deck the guy on me, and he falls back, seemingly pulled from the rage-filled attitude that possessed him.
“You fucking bastards,” I say, reaching into my pocket and retrieving my sling blade. Always keep one on me in case shit like this starts up. “Come at me again. Just fucking come at me again.”
I want to cut them so bad.
Mark isn’t getting up.
And the guys look worried. Like they’ve finally realized just how much they could have hurt him.
Wasted pieces of shit.
Brody keeps his hands on the guy in the hoodie. “Get the fuck out of here, you fucking assholes!” he shouts.
I hurry to Mark, keeping my knife aimed at them in case they try anything.
“Fuck this shit,” the guy in the hoodie says as he heads toward the street. His friend scrambles to his feet and heads after him.
I’m tempted to chase them, but I need to make sure Mark is okay.
He’s breathing, but he’s not moving.
“Mark.”
Mark stirs.
“Are they gone?” he asks.
Relief washes through me.
“Holy shit, yes, but you scared the mother-loving shit out of us, dude,” Brody says.
“I thought it would freak them out if I played dead. Plus, damn, my face hurts from that punch.”
“What just happened?” a voice comes from behind us.
A familiar voice.
Fuck.