The reason Justin couldn't hang out
I got a baseball bat beside my bed
To fight off what's inside my head
To fight off what's behind my meds
-- Mother Mother, It’s Alright
Numbed by every substance in the book, he really shouldn’t be this jittery, feet shuffling, hands fidgeting. One deep breath filled his lungs to the brim, only held for a second. He could do this. No, he had to do this. His heels raised him off the ground an inch, up and down like a dodge ball. Okay, okay.
Pushing the door open, he reminded himself this was a question of life and death. This was self-preservation, the thing Theo said had never been part of him in the first place. It was true that he wasn’t very good at it and didn’t maintain the habit, but saying it’d never been part of him was inaccurate at best, negligent at worst. Just because he didn’t choose it often didn’t mean he didn’t want to. He did, he really did, he just—well. He didn’t deserve it, did he? Playing with fire was an addiction and getting burned was what he deserved. Not to mention the fact he’d never thought things would get to this point. There was a chance, of course—risk was what made it so hot—but who would’ve thought? The Crow didn’t have a single reason to suspect him. This whole time, he’d covered his tracks.
The moment he stepped into the room, his eyes fell on the three dogs that stood near the Crow, one at each side of him and one behind his chair, just like last time—Bert, Cole and Dustin. The sharpness of their boots in his stomach was still fresh in his mind, the edges of their knuckles against his ribs, the taste of leather on his tongue. His heart hammered, door falling closed behind him. He choked on a breath.
Across the table, the dogs smirked. Fear paralyzed him, blood cold in his veins. Would they hurt him again? They wouldn’t be here if the Crow didn’t have plans for it.
The room stared at him in deafening silence. A soft creak cut through it as the Crow leaned against his chair, left hand coming up to touch his chin, wedding band glinting under the red neon lights. A very specific memory immediately overtook the others, the acute pain of that ring against his face, edges tearing through skin, just under his eye. A full-body shiver shook him where he stood.
Awkwardly, he fished the payments out of his pocket and laid them in front of Burman. The seating arrangements between her and the Crow put her near the door, which allowed Laith to reach her without venturing too far into the room. A finger pointed to the respective bags as he addressed them.
“Paulie’s, Evans’ and the coffee shop’s, which is owned by someone called Aquario. Paulie’s off by two hundred, Evans is good, and Aquario didn’t even make half of it. I’ll be going back for Joules tomorrow.”
Burman counted the money. “Walk by Aquario’s coffee shop this week without going in. Make sure they see you. As for Paulie, see him next Monday.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once his cut was placed on the table, he pocketed it.
The Crow moved just out of sight, catching his attention, eyes up to see the man motion toward himself, clearly addressing Burman. “May I?”
“Please, he’s all yours.”
With a nod, the Crow looked at Laith next. His heart jumped so far up his throat that he choked on it, eyebrows bouncing on his forehead. This was it. “I believe you remember the favor I asked of you on Monday.”
“Yes, of course.” He tried not to look at the dogs, eyes trained on the Crow’s icy blues, a shade too cool. “Your son Ryan, he’s dating Sherry, the PR manager.”
The Crow scowled. “The black woman?”
The lack of transphobia in that question was incredibly surprising, but then, the Crow probably didn’t know that about her. In fact, most people didn’t.
“Yeah. They’ve been together for a few months.”
A disinterested shrug very briefly wrinkled the Crow’s suit jacket.
“Okay, and?”
Fuck. He swallowed hard, lungs filling up with each breath. He’d really hoped Sherry would be enough. “He’s friends with a girl named Emily. They party together.”
“What about Justin? A redhead, stoner-type.”
His blood ran cold. “You mean the Alvorada’s weed guy? Everybody knows him.”
“Do you?”
“Sure.”
The Crow squinted. “What can you tell me about him?”
“Uh, he deals in the DP every Saturday and comes down every night. He used to sell harder drugs, but he stopped a while ago.”
“No, I want to know about his personal life. Where does he live?”
The Crow drove Theo to the party last week; he already knew the answer to that. It must be a test.
“He lives on a farm just outside of town. He’s not from here; he deals above ground too. College students, college parties.”
Chances of the Crow knowing about Justin’s mom’s apartment were practically zero, so he decided against mentioning it. Justin barely went there anyway.
“Is that the kind of people he hangs around? College students?”
“Some of them, yeah.”
“Is he friends with any of them?”
“I mean, sure. He’s friends with everyone.”
The Crow touched his own chin again, pensive, wedding band glinting red. “Set up a meeting with him right now. Surely, you have his contact number.”
They held the stare. Oh god, what would they do to Justin? There was a hole where Laith’s heart used to be, a vacuum that ate him up with each passing moment. He didn’t want to do this.
Hesitantly, a hand reached for his phone. “What should I say?”
“The obvious.” The Crow scoffed through a faux laugh, palms up to indicate scorn. “Just make him come to the office. If you don’t mind, of course.”
The last part was addressed to Burman in a much different tone, polite and nice. She half-shrugged in response. The patterns of her dress shone under the light. “Not at all. I’d much rather know of everything that happens in my club than find out about it later.”
“Well, then. Get him up here.”
With his heart punching him in the ribs, Laith tapped on Justin’s contact and sent him a text. They usually met up at his place for this kind of exchange, but that obviously wouldn’t be the case tonight. He tried to sound inconspicuous about it, saying he’d finish his shift soon and wanted to see Justin first thing. None of his friends had been up in Burman’s office, but they all knew where it was. Most people did; the guards out front gave it away. Even if they didn’t know what it was exactly, they knew it was important enough to be protected.
As soon as he put his phone away, his eyes found Burman’s. There was an unspoken emotion in the way she looked at him, a knowing stare.
A simple order to the two guards outside allowed Justin to go through the door. Laith could hear it open and close all the way upstairs, heart stuck in his throat. Holding the office door open, he stood in the archway and shouted for Justin to come up. A moment later, his friend rounded the corner. The confusion on his face turned his blood into ice, red eyebrows pinched together as he crossed the hallway.
“Hey, dude. What’s going on?”
His question pierced Laith through the chest. Without answering it, he simply stepped back into the office and let his friend follow. The moment Justin saw the Crow, his eyebrows shot up his forehead.
“Hello, Justin. Do you remember me?”
“Yes, Mr. Voss, of course. I didn’t…” Justin glanced about himself. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Voss hasn’t been in the picture for a few years now. Actually, he never has. I’m Theodore’s father, not Ryan’s.”
“Oh.” The correction put color on Justin’s face, eyes wide. “I’m so sorry, sir; I didn’t realize.”
The Crow forced a smile so easily, so naturally that it almost looked sincere. If Laith didn’t know him, he’d probably have fallen for it. “That’s no matter. I must admit, since we’ve met, I’ve been very curious about you.” He leaned back in his chair, dogs standing patiently by him. “What is it that you do?”
So the test wasn’t over. He’d verify the integrity of Laith’s information in real time, ready to unleash the dogs at the first lie. Even though his answers hadn’t all been very thorough, he hadn’t lied. Not technically, anyway. Still, that didn’t stop Justin from lying and getting him in trouble. In a cross-examination, he’d always get the brunt of it.
“I’m a businessman,” Justin started. “I follow the agreements made with the other dealers and only deal in the DP on Saturdays, as the arrangement allows me. Otherwise, I deal to the Alvorada.”
“Is it true that you only deal marijuana?”
“Yessir.”
“And that you deal above ground as well?”
“Yes, I do. I live on the surface.”
“On the farm where we met?”
“Yes.”
“When you’re not dealing in the tunnels, where do you do business?”
“At house parties, usually. I have a few contacts that meet up with me in certain places, but if I’m trying to reach a wider audience, college parties are usually where I go. You know, the ones near campus.”
“Is that where you met Theodore?”
Justin hesitated. His eyes found Laith’s face for a second. “Yes. Have you heard of Dominico’s?”
“I’m afraid I haven’t.”
“It’s one of the most popular college parties around, along with Streisand’s and Goffer’s. I deal there sometimes.”
“How did you meet?”
“I’m not sure; it just kind of happened. He showed up with a cup of beer and we started talking.”
“Did you deal to him?”
“No, never.”
“So he doesn’t smoke dope.”
“Well.” Justin glanced at Laith again, very briefly. “He does; I just didn’t sell it to him. It was a gift.”
Was that true? Laith didn’t actually know.
“That’s quite the market strategy you have there; give them a gift to get them hooked, then charge for everything else. Smart.” The Crow’s tone was stiff with anger. “I take it you introduced him to it, then.”
Justin’s eyes met Laith’s again, except the stare only lasted a moment, interrupted by a loud sound that turned them to glance at it. The Crow’s fist rested on the table, face red with rage.
“Why do you keep looking at him!?” the Crow shouted, freezing Laith’s blood in his veins. That seemed to be enough for the dogs to start circling the table in his direction. Instinctively, he took a step back, touching the wall. “What does he know?!”
Bert reached him before the others, hands grabbing him by the collar, shoving him against the wall. Since he was so close to it already, the back of his head didn’t hurt when hitting it. A second later, Cole grabbed his throat and squeezed it while Dustin punched him in the stomach. It was strong enough to wind him, one leg bending at the knee, throat choking on a sound.
“N-nothing!” Justin shouted back. “He—he beat me up once, so I’m kind of—I’m scared, is all. I feel—I feel unsafe with him here.”
That was absolutely not true, but his reputation made it believable. It was credible enough for the Crow to buy it. “Get him out.”
Still holding him by the throat, the dogs dragged him out of the room and shoved him into the hallway, manhandling him so forcefully that he fell back onto the ground, back sliding across the carpet, head just an inch from bouncing off it. The door slammed shut. Shaking, he got up on both feet, adrenaline through the roof. He had to leave. Every voice in his head screamed for him to leave, but his legs simply refused to move, heart aching in his chest. What about Justin? What if they hurt him? Quietly, he approached the door to listen through it.
The lack of a struggle told him that the dogs weren’t engaging Justin just yet, waiting for the command to do it. The wood wasn’t thick, but it was still difficult to hear their voices clearly.
Justin confessed that he was, in fact, the one who’d introduced Theo to weed—another lie—which prompted the Crow to ask why he’d invited Theo to the farm last weekend. Justin told him the truth then, that he’d done it because Theo was a friend. Well, was Ryan his friend too? Yes. Had Ryan been at the party? Yes, but he hadn’t hung out with Theo; they weren’t close. How close was Justin to Theodore exactly? Not close; they only saw each other every now and then. The Crow was quick to inform him that was the last time, that he better never see Theodore again.
Feet shuffled on the carpet, Laith could tell as much. It must be his intimidation tactic, the dogs on Justin next, grabbing him too. Yessir. Without another word, the door creaked open.
Instinctively, Laith opened the closest door to him—one of the various ones along the hallway—and hid in that room. It was dark inside, seemingly empty. Through the window, he saw Justin get shoved out of Burman’s office, almost hard enough to fall on his face. As soon as the door slammed closed, he fixed the collar of his flannel, shooting an indignant look back at it. Then, he glanced around—was he looking for Laith? Laith touched the handle, breath stuck in his throat.
He couldn’t do it. Looking at his friend through the window, he watched Justin walk out with his back straight and pride in his chest, not so easily shaken. Justin was much tougher than he seemed. Then again, Justin wasn’t the one who’d had one of his ribs broken.
Comments