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continued. “I need you to get your fucking ass up and come to the garage. We have something for you.”
“What? Why?” I asked.
“Why? Because I fucking said so. Get up. Come on. Don’t be a bitch,” King said.
“I’ll be there, give me one second.” I pulled up the social networking site I’d been on when they’d interrupted me.
I’d told the truth when I told King I wasn’t looking at porn. My dick hadn’t exactly gotten the memo that I was alive just yet, but I had hopes for the fucker or else it was just a huge useless dead thing hanging between my legs about 60 years too fucking soon.
Glaring back at me from the computer screen was shiny black hair and dark almost black eyes. In her profile picture she was standing on dark sand behind grassy dunes, nothing like the beaches in the Logan’s Beach area. It was a candid shot. She wasn’t looking at the camera, instead she was looking off in the distance, the shadow of whoever took the picture was overlapping part of her face and immediately I hated whoever that motherfucker was who took the picture. Guy or girl. Maybe because it was obstructing me of a full view of her face or maybe it was because she looked so unguarded and I hated anyone who wasn’t me who’d gotten to see her that way.
She didn’t post that often. The sporadic pictures that were on her timeline were all dated several months apart.
I clicked on the ABOUT info section of her page.
“Come the fuck on!” King yelled out and thank God he was at the garage or my head would be swimming with the sound of his deep bellowing voice.
“Jesus fucking Christ you two!” I shouted back. Before I shutdown the computer I might have made Bear and King wait forty seconds more so I could hack into Dre’s Facebook account and updated her relationship status.
To married.
I wasn’t sure why the fuck I did it, but I was happy as fuck that I did. And when I walked out the front door and headed toward the garage to meet Bear and King it was with a big genuine fucking smile plastered all over my fucking face.
PREPPY
“God, I’ve fucking missed you, you’re so fucking beautiful,” I cooed, like I was talking to an infant. I lifted the triangle of broken mirror to eye level so I could get a more up close and personal look at the perfect lines of white powder, separated in picturesque rows on top of the glass. “Fuck, I think I’m tearing up... it’s been too fucking long, but that’s alright, we’re gonna fix that, right now. We’re gonna fix it so fucking good, baby.”
“You gonna snort that shit or fuck it?” Bear asked and both he and King laughed reminding me that there were two others in King’s studio besides me and the blow.
Bear was sitting on the floor with one leg pulled up so he could rest his elbow across it, his back against a bank of drawers that opened to one of King’s many toolboxes. King sat on a rolling stool with his elbow propped up against a built in counter space set back in the wall, a beer to his lips. My blow and I were taking up space on the middle cushion of the black leather couch meant to be a waiting area for King’s tattoo clients.
The studio was all brand new. Something King had put in when he rebuilt the garage and the garage apartment. It was small, but it was clean, and all the equipment was state of the art. A custom neon sign hung over the door on the inside. It was a skull wearing a crown and a bow tie. KING’S TATTOO that blinked from green to blue to red. With all the lights off inside the wall color change, reflecting a slightly different hue with every switch of the sign.
King had never needed to keep up the tattoo business, the money he made permanently marking the skin of bikers and spring breakers was only a fraction of what we made with the Granny Growhouses plus the other shit we always had our hands in. But as I looked around at the framed pictures of the work that King had recently done, I knew that he kept it up because it was a part of him.
The same way I was gonna fuck up some blow. Because it was a part of me. Or at least, it was gonna be.
“Come to Daddy,” I said. I held the rolled up bill to my nose and closed one nostril, leaning over I snorted up every last bit of the cocaine goodness. I sat back up, sniffling to make sure every last bit of white powdered goodness was as far up in my fucking brain as possible. I wiped my nose and it hit me harder than I ever remember it hitting.
The high was fucking incredible.
I felt invincible as Bear took the bill from my hand and snorted his own line. He passed it to King who shook his head and held up the joint he was smoking.
“Don’t tell me you don’t party anymore,” I said. “You that pussy whipped where you can’t do a little fucking blow with your long lost dead fucking friend? I mean, we’re following all the rules right? It’s after dark, the kids aren’t home, and we’re in your shop in the garage. Article FIFTEEN, LINE TWENTY SEVEN of all your new fucking rules clearly states that this is an acceptable time to get seriously fucked up.”
“Nope, these days I just prefer to slow the fuck down instead of speed the fuck up. It’s called relaxing in case you’ve never heard of it.”
“Sounds fucking awful,” I said, dumping more powder from the baggie onto the mirror. “Although whatever you’ve been doing has really upped your tatt game.” I pointed to the collection of pictures on the wall. “Some of that shit is downright amazing man.” I tipped my chin to one on the bottom. A sleeve on a woman’s arm with light grey colors mixed with pinks and blues. “I mean that one’s girly but still really fucking badass.”
King laughed. “Ray did that one.”
I knew she was assisting King and that she’d tattooed the bird on his hand, but I didn’t know she was on that level.
“She’s getting pretty fucking good,” King said, beaming with pride.
“So I figure I can borrow your truck for now if that’s alright with you, Boss-Man,” I started, taking the joint he passed me. The blow putting into overdrive my lazy brain and for a few moments made me feel almost fucking normal.
Almost.
“I think I’ve got some cash buried somewhere just gotta remember where first, then I’ll go into Dunn’s over in Coral Pines and get my own ride, seeing as how my last one exploded and all.”
“Why?” King asked like it was a far fetched idea.
“See, cars take you from point A to motherfucking point B,” I pointed out. “Wait, you’re the one who has a degree and Bear’s the high school drop out, right? That’s not something that’s twisted up in my memory?
Bear laughed and King rolled over and kicked his foot.
“How the fuck else am I gonna get to the GG’s to inspect and collect?” They paused their little tickle slap and I didn’t miss the concerned look that passed between them.
“Preppy, you don’t have to go back to work. We only have three or four left of the GG houses anyway. I got Billy working them for now, plus Ray helps out. There’s no rush.”
“Billy? Like chef Billy?”
“That’s the one. His place got flooded a few months back and until the insurance kicks in he’s been helping out here and there,” King explained.
Bear scratched his neck. “Yeah, man. So you can relax for a hot second. Heal. Take some fucking time for yourself.”
I shook my head. “I’ve spent too much time alone thinking. I don’t need to do it anymore. I’m fucking ready.” I stared them both down and wiped at my nose. “Are you gonna tell me that I’m not?”
“Preppy,” King said, leaning forward and taking a long slow drag on his joint. “Ray needs the truck for the kids and I’ve got my bike, but Bear and I already talked about it and he’s got a few rides around the club laying around we can get fixed up for you.”
“Alright then,” I said, snorting two more lines and lighting my own cigarette. “I missed drugs,” I lamented. Cocaine may not be comforting to some people, but to me it was like meatloaf and apple pie.
It was home.
I looked up to the ceiling and then through the window of the backyard. “How the fuck did you afford
this garage? The house being fixed up? Last I checked your finances solely revolved around getting Max back and that was more than any of us had combined.”
King filled me in on the story, although I felt like it was more of the same deja-vu I felt with Thia when he was telling me about Ray’s ex husband and Max and going to rescue her from the psycho.
“That didn’t answer my question. How can you afford all this?”
Bear chimed in. “Because as it turns out, King didn’t need the money for Max. Senator man brought her back on his own accord. Then it seems that Ray came into some money. Like a lot of fucking money.” Bear smiled, “So...”
