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“So those two douchebags sell some pot to high school friends, then decide it’s time to become full-time dealers and the girl comes along and gives them the score of a lifetime. That’s not enough so they look for her again, can’t find her, steal ATMs and now are hunting for her because the bottom line isn’t what Cherry thinks it should be. Do I have the story?”
“Yeah. I guess. I’m not really in their deals or nothin’, man. I’m on the outside of it all.”
“Get back in the bar,” I say. “If you tell Danny and Cherry about this I’ll fucking kill you. Got it?”
He shakes his head. Turns white. I let go and he numbly walks into the bar. Obedient.
I pull out Blimpie’s phone. Dial Danny’s number from the address book.
“What?” Danny screams. Blimpie must have forgotten to mention I took his phone.
“Back at the bar, Danny. You forgot something.”
“What?”
“You forgot something at the bar, Danny.”
Dawning realization now: “Who—who is this?”
“Better pick him up before I do.” I hang up.
I finish another cigarette before they make it back. Park the van, leave it running. Doors unlocked. Rush inside. I’m in the back of the van before they get back out.
34
They make Blimpie drive his own car.
I’m lying down in the back of the van, .44 Magnum out, the gun panting. Asking impatiently to shoot someone. All in due time.
We’re on the street, Cherry driving. We’re breaking the speed limit, that’s for sure.
The conversation is not good.
Cherry: “Dude, I know he’s your brother but who cares? I mean, first of all he’s only your half-brother. Even your mom says she doesn’t know who his father is—”
Danny: “Dude. She knows, she’s just embarrassed or something about it because, quite frankly, she dates a lot of guys. But who even cares? Seriously, we’re in over our heads here—”
Cherry: “No, we are not. These are growing pains. I told you shit is going to happen. Just does. This game pays, Danny. But, sometimes it fucks with you, that’s all. You fuck back. This is top-dog shit right here. We’re gonna be top-dog.”
Danny: “Dude, watch where you’re going and slow down. Blimpie can barely keep up. Now, listen. I know growing pains and all but this—”
Cherry: “Whoever these guys are looking for their dope, and whoever this bull is muscling Blimpie, they’ve got nothing. Understand me? What, a fiend cocksucker like Dobbins diming us out? I’m still not sure that wasn’t a sting. The bull is probably a Three Mile High cop and—”
Danny: “I don’t care. We get out of this. We’re already in deep shit if they figure out how we got the cash to buy into the market in the first place. Dude, what if they are cops?”
Cherry: “We lay low. I got a real job; you got a real job—”
“Dude, you’re a night attendant at a gas station and I clean—”
“Shut the fuck up. Bottom line, Danny: Blimpie and Dobbins are the weak links here. Simple. You and I would be avoiding this mess completely if it weren’t for them. Think about it. Simple, bro. Simple.”
Danny: “I’m not going to do anything to Blimpie just because he’s dumb and scared—”
“Then fuck yourself. You listen to me, Danny. You fucking listen good. I owe your stupid retard brother one for squealing to the cops about me and Loren—”
“Dude, drop that shit! Seriously! He never—”
“I got convicted of domestic violence for that! You know I can’t legally even go hunting now! I can’t own a damn rifle!”
