Page 50 of Sick Boys


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A hint of a smile tugs at his lips. “I can’t stop you … but I will punish you if I find out you even so much as try.”

I suck in a breath.

He adds, “So fuck around … and find out.”

Then he turns around and saunters off, aloof as fuck, leaving me completely shaken.

And out of my mind enraged.

ALISTAIR

I’m in the middle of gathering all the copies of the diary printed in one big stack when my phone rings.

“What’s up?”

“Ali, is that how you say hi to your fucking father?”

Oh fuck. I should’ve checked the name on the screen.

I sigh. “Hi, Pops.”

“Can you sound any more uninterested?”

“Sorry, I’m kinda busy,” I reply.

“Busier than me?” He bursts out into laughter. “I doubt it. With all these cases I’ve been handling lately. Especially the one about the dude with black curly hair stealing some shit at a local shop.”

Oh boy.

“You got anything to do with that by any chance?”

“No, so what did you want?” I ask.

“Sure.” He clears his throat. “Anyhow, is there any chance you can speak with that Caruso kid for me?”

“What did he do?” I ask.

“Nothing, I only need him for a … side job.”

Oh fuck me. He’s trying to enlist me in his off-the-books schemes again, and I don’t like it one bit.

“Caruso gave part of his business dealings to his wife, so I made a deal with that woman, that Jeon … Jan … Jon …”

I roll my eyes. “Jeong-Suk.”

“Yeah, that’s the one. I can’t ever fucking remember her name.” He laughs like it’s no big deal.

“It’s Korean.”

“Of course,” he adds, like he knew all along, and it makes me want to stab myself in the ear because it’s so annoying to listen to. “Anyhow, I’ve been trying to reach her, but I can’t seem to get in touch, so if you could just tell your boy to call his mom and tell her to contact me, that’d be amazing, kiddo.”

“Okay, but I’m not your fucking errand boy. You know that, right?”

“You’re my son, Ali,” he spits back. “You think I’d ask just anyone? You’d better start showing a little respect for the hustle, Ali.”

“I respect your job as chief of police. Not the other part.”

“Says the guy who steals to have fun.”

He knows me too well.

“I got that part from you, you know,” I reply.

“I know. So what’s it going to be, then?”

I roll my eyes and sigh out loud. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

I don’t want to deal with this, but my dad always makes his business my business.

“That’s my boy. Tell her I’ve got the goods, and I just need a drop-off point and date. That’s it.”

Goods. Nice euphemism for drugs and guns. Very inconspicuous.

“I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll try,” I say.

“Good boy,” he says.

Ugh. I hate that.

“I’m gonna go back to studying now. See ya.”

“Of course, son. Good luck.”

I hang up the phone before he can ask me anything else and immediately call Felix.

“Hey. I’ve got it all copied like you asked.”

“Good. You know what to do with them.”

I grind my teeth. “Are you sure this is the right move? She’s gonna hate us even more.”

“Do it,” he retorts. “I’ll deal with her after.”

“Okay,” I say. “You’d better be sure about this because there’s no way back when I’m done.”

“I don’t do regrets,” he replies. “Just get it done.”

He hangs up the phone.

Fine.

I grab the stack of papers and ring Dylan. “Yo. Hey, two questions. One, my dad called, and he wants your mom to call him. I don’t know why.”

“Oh, Dad’s been wanting to push some of the more illicit stuff to my mom so he doesn’t get caught up in another scandal with the university. She’s using her maiden name.”

“Right.” I don’t really care. “Second question: Wanna help me spread these fucking pages around today?”

“Ugh, do I have to? There’s a party at the Nu Sigma Delta sorority all fucking day, and I don’t wanna miss a minute.”

Him and his parties.

“It’ll only take an hour,” I say.

“Fine, fine, I’ll do it.” Dylan sighs. “But you owe me.”

I already know what he wants. “I’ll hook you up with my dad’s guys.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. All right, bro, see you later.”

“Thanks for the help.” I hang up the phone.

Everything I do, everything I need … it’s all an exchange.

Whether it’s money, goods, or merely their time, nothing is free.

Not in this world.

And if we want to make it, it’s best to learn early on not to give a fuck.

Even when your fucking heart bleeds.

This stack of papers stares at me, but instead of getting to work right away, I sit by the window and grab my pen and paper, then start to draw.

On the grass outside, the girl with the purple hair sits with her friends, pretending to be blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurk around every corner.

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