Josh

 

 

“You can’t go to a college party looking like that.”

Raw glances down at his clothes with a frown. “What are you talking about?”

“The jacket, for one,” I tell him, pointing to his leather with the Devil’s Due logo blazing across the back. “The gun on your belt is another problem.”

“I have a concealed carry license.”

“Cool. Doesn’t matter. You can’t bring a gun to this party.”

“You got a problem with the knife in my boot too?”

“Nope. Can’t see it, don’t care.”

Raw looks at me for a prolonged moment before turning to the mirror in the cramped bedroom. It’s the same one I woke up in this morning. He’s got clothes stashed here in the small closet, but we’re having trouble finding the right sort of clothes for him to wear to this party. Everything he has is black and white with the club all over.

“What if you go just the jeans and the T-shirt?” I suggest. “It’s got a classic Outsiders kind of vibe to it.”

“A what kind of vibe?”

“Outsiders. It’s a book. It’s good. You’d like it.”

“Is it gay?”

“What?” I laugh, shaking my head. “No, man. It’s about greasers in a gang. Nineteen-fifties shit.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that. Why can’t I wear the jacket?”

“It’s intimidating. One of the reasons I do so well selling to the college crowd is because I’m in the college crowd. You’re barely older than I am. You could fit in as a student if you dressed down a little. Just jeans and a T-shirt, one that doesn’t say ‘Hi. I’m in a motorcycle gang. I’ll cut your ass if you cross me’.”

Raw smiles at me in the mirror. “Yeah, but I will cut a motherfucker if he crosses me.”

“I hope so. That’s what you’re getting paid for, right? Our buyers will get to know that, but first you have to blend in. You have to win their trust like I did.”

He shrugs out of his jacket, muttering, “This is stupid.”

“This is college. It’s all stupid.”

Raw goes to the closet to hang up his jacket. He’s careful with it, handling it with respect like a soldier with a flag. He starts sifting through the hangers, digging deeper. He leaves me alone with silence and my thoughts, and those always drift to Harlow. It’s maddening to know she’s here. That she’s so close but so far, tucked away in some dark place with Devo doing God knows what. The thought of her with him hurts like a stab to my stomach, a slow death that takes its time torturing me. It’s an old familiar feeling, the same one I dealt with every night in the first month after she left with him. Eventually I learned to push it aside, but ever since that kiss, it’s back with a vengeance.

“How old is your daughter?” I ask Raw, making conversation to distract myself.

“Three,” he replies, his voice muffled inside the closet.

“Is that school age?”

I really have no damn idea about kids. Are three-year-olds potty trained? Are they eating solid foods? Do they pay taxes?

“Kinda. She’s in preschool right now. It’s her second year.”

“She’s repeating preschool?”

“She’s not talking yet.”

“Oh,” I reply, feeling stupid. “Is she supposed to be?”

“Doctor’s think so,” he grunts, coming out of the closet with a black hoodie in hand. He pushes his arms into it before shoving the sleeves up to his elbows. “She should have been using, like, twenty words or more when she turned two, but she’s three now and she doesn’t use any.”

“Is she…do they know if she can hear?”

“She’s had her hearing checked. She’s not deaf. She’s autistic.”

And I’ve stepped even farther out of my realm of understanding.

I shake my head helplessly, admitting, “I don’t know anything about autism.”

Raw shrugs, unconcerned. “It’s different for everyone. Are we ready to go? Does this pass inspection?”

 His tattoos are showing, but he’s not going to be the only guy on campus with tattoos. Hell, I’ve got a few. I know a lot of the guys playing sports have them too. Raw’s are bigger, full sleeves, and there’s the matter of the word FUCK written across his knuckles, but it shouldn’t be enough to scare people off.

“Yeah, looks good,” I confirm.

He nods to me. “What about your face? Do people know what happened there or do we have a cover story for that?”

“My regular buyers know Bryan jumped me. I publicly outed him as a buyer to scare away anyone else who might be thinking of doing the same thing. But that’s all on the DL. If anyone at this party asks, I was in a car accident.”

“What if Bryan is there? You still want me to hold off on payback?”

I stand from the edge of the bed, trying not to wince. “I already got that covered.”

“How?”

“I killed him.”

Raw stares at me evenly. “For real?”

“Only on paper.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I hacked his information at the school and submitted all the right forms to have him declared legally dead. He probably won’t notice until winter term when he can’t register for classes or play football anymore because I killed him.”

Raw laughs, opening the door to lead me outside. “That’s vicious, man. I like it.”

Winslow House is a big, old Victorian just off campus. It’s named after the founders of the town, same as Winslow College. It was their home generation after generation for almost a hundred years. When the last in their line either died out or moved away, the house was handed over to the town. It probably should have been turned into a museum but Opal didn’t have that kind of money lying around. In fact, it was desperate to make money, not hand it out, so the house was put up for rent. Now drunk college students piss in Mrs. Winslow’s prize rose bushes.

Circle of life, man. This town sucks all around.

“Kanye,” Raw points out with disgust as we walk up the path. “They’re bumpin’ fuckin’ Kanye.”

“You want me to see if they’ve got any Credence?”

“You’re messing with me but I’d take you up on that.”

“Just ignore it. It’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

He looks at me sideways, watching me walk. “You feeling okay? You’re limping more than earlier.”

I wave away his concern. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get these deliveries over with so you can get home to your daughter and I can pass out on my couch.”

“You wanna come back to the club and sleep in a real bed again? You’re a friend of the M.C. now. Bear wouldn’t mind.”

I very seriously consider it. His offer sounds like heaven, but it also sounds like hell. I’d get to sleep in a bed again. I’d get to see Harlow in the morning. But she’d be there with Devo and I wouldn’t be able to get her alone. Besides, I surprised her at the club today. I probably shouldn’t do it again for another day or so. Give her time to adjust to the idea that I’m going to be around without bombarding her. If I overwhelm her, she’ll run. Far and fast, the way she’s good at. I have to be careful about how I pursue her. I have to come on her slow, like a storm gathering offshore.

“Nah, I’ll be fine at home,” I tell Raw. “I don’t like leaving the inventory alone overnight.”

“Smart move.”

“Josh!”

Candace has spotted me from the sagging porch. She waves excitedly, her breasts swaying free under her sparkling red tank top.

“Hello,” Raw murmurs, watching her with a small smile. “Who is this?”

“Candace. She’s a regular.”

“You fuck her?”

“Once,” I admit reluctantly. “It was a mistake.”

“Why? What’s wrong with her?”

“Nothing. I just don’t put my dick where I deal, you know? And not to be a buzz kill, but didn’t Bear warn you to keep it in your pants?”

“I don’t remember that,” he lies easily.

“No?”

“Nope.”

“Weird.”

“Oh yeah,” he agrees heartily, still eying Candace. “It’s gonna get real weird. Did she buy from us tonight?”

“Yeah. We’re meeting her in fifteen in the gazebo out back.” I pull out my phone to check my schedule. “But first we have to meet up with Kyle in the laundry room. Then Becky by the fire pit.”

Raw surprises me when he turns all business, like flipping a switch. His interest in Candace is instantly erased and he’s laser focused on the task at hand.

“What’s Kyle like? Is he gonna give us trouble?”

I lead him inside, nodding to people who call my name. “He never has before.”

“You want me to play it tough or aloof or what?”

“I don’t know,” I answer, honestly unsure. “I think with the guys we play it aloof. Leave ‘em guessing about you. With the girls, put on the charm, man. Crank it up. They’ll love it.”

“That’s the real reason you had me dress like a damn GAP ad, isn’t it? You’re pimping me.”

“You’re hardly dressed like a GAP ad, but yeah.” I shake the pills in my pocket, smiling over at him. “Sex and candy, brother. That’s what it’s all about.”

Raw laughs, unoffended to be objectified.

When we walk through the house, people turn to look. Conversations slow down. Eyes follow us down the hall to the back rooms. People are painfully aware that we’re here and why. Normally, this kind of attention makes me uncomfortable, but with Raw at my back, I feel pretty okay. I don’t have that underlying anxiety I usually get with a delivery because if shit goes down, I’m not alone. And while this isn’t the business model I imagined when I started out, it’s not the worst thing in the world either.

When we find the laundry room, Kyle is already waiting for us. He’s a lanky guy; tall and thin. Nervous.

I just my chin at him. “What’s up, man?”

“Hey.” He offers me his hand.

I shake it, feeling the sweaty bills scrape against my palm. I fan it for a second in the dim light to count it. He’s good.

I pull a small baggy from my pocket, the kind moms use to pack Goldfish in their kid’s lunchbox, and double check the name written across it. When I know it’s the right one, I shake his hand again, passing the bag off to him.

He smiles, his eyes light with excitement. “Thanks, dude.”

“You got it. Have a good one.”

“You too.”

Kyle’s eyes dart to Raw standing silently behind me. His face falls, his excitement fading for a second. He looks confused, glancing between the two of us before finally darting out of the room and back to the party.

When he’s gone, Raw chuckles into his fist.

“What’s funny?” I ask.

“It’s just so damn easy. It’s the easiest job I’ve ever had.” He points to the rest of the house pounding with music and laughter. “What am I protecting you from? The seas parted for us when we walked in. No one’s stepping to us.”

“You wanna quit? I’ll happily keep that extra fifteen percent.”

“Fuck no. I’m in. It’s just cake, that’s all.”

I shrug, checking my phone. “Bear wanted it. Not me. I tried to talk him out of it.”

“You don’t talk Bear out of shit. He talks you into it. That’s the way the Due work, baby.”

I lead him out the backdoor to the patio. We take up a spot by the fire pit to wait for Becky. There are a few other people out here; couples kissing and whispering in shadowy corners of the yard.

“How do your deals usually go?” I ask Raw curiously. “You know, when you’re selling your usual product.”

“Pretty much like this, only not so loud. I’m surprised by how out in the open this all is.”

“It’s not usually. But we had a lot of buyers tonight and I wanted people to see you with me. We’re making a point.”

“You’re showing ‘em you’re untouchable.”

“Basically, yeah.”

He nods, scanning the crowd. “It’s a smart move.” He hits my arm with the back of his hand. “Is this our girl?”

Becky is blond and petite. Pretty. Quiet. I’ve only sold to her a few times but I know her poison – Vicodin. And when she buys, she buys in bulk. I’ve got all ten of the pills I got from the hospital in my pocket with her name on them.

She wrings her hands together nervously when she sees me.

She freezes mid-step when she sees Raw.

“It’s okay,” I promise her quietly. “He’s with me.”

Becky doesn’t come any closer. She eyes us both warily, regret on her face.

I’m legit worried we’re about to lose the sale.

Raw steps around me, offering her his hand. “Hey, mama,” he purrs like a jungle cat. “How’s your night going?”

She takes his hand hesitantly, her eyes running up his arms, following his tattoos to his face. “I’m good. It’s good. I, um… I don’t think—”

“You don’t know me. I’m new. Name’s Mark. What’s yours?”

“Becky.”

“Becky,” he repeats, savoring the sound. Her hand is still inside his. “Beautiful Becky with the blue eyes.”

She laughs nervously. Breathlessly.

Raw grins down at her. “We doin’ this tonight, Becky? ‘Cause if you’re worried, you don’t gotta be. I got you. You’re covered, you hear?”

I don’t know what the fuck he means by that. Becky doesn’t know what the fuck he means by that. I’m pretty sure Raw doesn’t know what the fuck he means by that, but it sounds good to us, so Becky nods with a smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, I hear.”

“Good. Let me get you what you want and you give me what I need, girl.”

Raw releases her to reach behind him, waving his open palm at me. I immediately hand him the bag with ‘Becky’ scrawled across the front. As Becky digs in her pockets, I silently flash Raw a one-zero-zero with my fingers.

He nods in understanding.

Becky pulls a small roll from her pocket. She goes to shake Raw’s hand again but he embraces her instead. He whispers in her ear as he slides his hand inside the back pocket of her jeans, cupping her ass and leaving the bag behind. She blushes furiously, nodding her head and sliding her hand in the front pocket of his hoodie.

He kisses her cheek chastely as he pulls away, grinning. “You have a good night, Becky. I’ll see you around.”

“See you around,” she giggles, still blushing.

I shake my head as I watch her hurry away into the house.

Raw turns to me with a shit-eating grin. “That’s how my deals usually go,” he announces proudly.

“Even with the dudes?”

He winks at me. “Especially with the dudes.”

Over the course of an hour, we finish up the rest of our deliveries along with five beers and one dance with two very handsy tennis players. I’m sure Raw is going to ditch me to take one or both of them home, but we bail together at around eleven. We listen to Credence Clearwater Revival the whole way home.

The night was a breeze. Raw didn’t have to bust any skulls and my regulars easily accepted him as part of the trade. Especially the women. A few people I’ve never sold to before asked what our deal was, looking for a hook up. I gave them a simple white card with Harrison’s number on it and told them to make a call. I wrote Raw’s phone number on the back and told them to call him if they’re looking for something more herbal.

And that, my friends, is what you call synergy.