Chapter 5 #3
“Alright. Do you have beer at home?”
“No.”
“Can we stop then? I’ll pay to fill the fridge,” he offered, and I rolled my eyes.
“You don’t need to buy me, Johnson. I already said you could come.”
“Just follow me,” he said before putting his window up and driving towards the road. A beer would be nice, so I muttered to myself as I followed him to the liquor store.
He grabbed a cart on the way inside, grabbing beer and bottles of whatever he seemed to put his eyes on, and I wasn’t surprised when the guy at the register bumped knuckles with him and happily scanned the items without checking his ID.
The guy helped us take it all out to the car, and I kept my eyes out for trouble while Tyler took his fucking time finishing his conversation. We were like sitting ducks here, easy to take out if someone really wanted to.
“C’mon, man,” I scowled after ten minutes, and Tyler thankfully wrapped it up so we could leave.
He was already drinking a beer when we arrived at home, and I gave him a dirty look as I unlocked the door.
“Don’t get drunk and crash the car. Then I’d have to handle telling Josie and she’d sue me,” I said dryly, making him laugh.
“She totally would. It’s just one beer.”
“How many lines have you done today?” I asked flatly, and he rolled his eyes, following me into the house.
“None, smartass.”
“Do me a favor and keep that shit away from Mark. He doesn’t need the temptation.”
We unloaded the car, and I didn’t miss the way his hand shook slightly. He seemed to be going through withdrawals, which was good because it meant the little shit hadn’t lied about not having blow today.
“I know you want the drugs away from Mark, but you’ll sell to me, right? I always got mine from Skeet, but he’s cut me off,” he finally said after we’d been sitting in silence for a few minutes in the living room, and his withdrawals suddenly made sense.
He’d run out.
“I can sell to you, but you’re paying full price,” I scoffed, and he nodded.
“Fair.”
“You’re going to school tomorrow too.”
“What?” he asked as he scrunched his nose up.
“You heard me. You can’t just mope around at mine or Marco’s houses all day while we’re out. You need to go to fucking school,” I said firmly, eyeing him over my beer. “You do that and I’ll supply you.”
“You’re fucking bribing me?”
“Don’t like it? Get your drugs elsewhere,” I shrugged, and he let out a sigh of defeat.
“Fine. It’s going to be a shitshow. Who knows how Caden will act.”
“Fix your shit with Luke and Jense. Let Caden stomp around like a spoiled brat,” I replied, pulling my phone out of my pocket to check in.
Marco had texted me a moment ago to let me know he was on the way to mine, and Faris had messaged me twenty minutes ago to let me know he was leaving the warehouse but Hammer was sticking around until Marco left.
Tyler was scrolling on his phone looking annoyed, so I assumed he was messaging one of the guys and disagreeing with them again.
A car backfired outside and Tyler flinched, a small smirk tugging at my mouth.
“You’d be less jumpy at home.”
“I don’t have a home. Mine burned down, remember?” he muttered, not looking up at me.
“And whose fault is that? You know Josie’s house is your home though, you dramatic fucker,” I hummed, getting to my feet to grab a fresh beer. “You can’t just live on people’s couches forever to avoid going there.”
“Bet,” he snorted, holding up his empty beer, silently asking for another one as if knowing what I’d gotten up for. I considered ignoring him, but I ended up taking it and heading into the kitchen, grabbing two from the fridge and handing him one before I sat back down in my recliner.
Marco arrived shortly after, helping himself to a beer before joining us. He dropped down beside Tyler on the couch, wincing as his wound must have pulled.
“How’s it looking today?” I asked, eyeing him as he shifted to get comfortable.
“Fine.”
“Have you even looked at it?”
“I will before bed. I got pumped full of antibiotics so it—”
“If it was me, you’d be hovering like mad. Fucking show me, asshole,” I grunted, and he thankfully just rolled his eyes and put his beer on the coffee table before pulling his jacket and shirt off for me to check.
I moved to squat in front of him, making him flinch when I peeled the bandage back and touched the skin close to the wound to check for heat or inflammation.
“You’re fucking hands are cold,” he growled, giving me the stink eye as I smirked.
“You’ll survive.”
Tyler peered over to look too, cringing at it. “Dude, that looks like it hurts.”
“I got shot, dickhead. Of course, it hurts,” he grunted, leaning forward for me to check the entry point in his back too. At least it didn’t look infected or anything.
“Can you teach me to shoot?” Tyler asked, both of us snorting.
“Absolutely not,” I replied, earning a frown in return.
“Why not?”
“You’d be a hazard with a gun,” Marco chuckled, leaning back once I was satisfied with his wound.
“Not if you teach me,” he huffed, and I shook my head with a sigh.
There was no way in hell I was letting him near a gun.