His face is swollen, puffy slits that don’t show even a hint of his eyes, and his nose and lips are busted. My hands hover over him, unsure where to touch him that won’t hurt.
“See you soon, sunshine.” The biker asshole chuckles through an overgrown mustache and goatee, and they move toward the mouth of the alley.
“Wait!”
They turn around.
“How much? You said three times the amount. I don’t know what it was or how much he owed.”
The big guy grins wide. “Ask him. Oh, and try to be smarter than your brother and come unarmed.” He holds up Drake’s gun, grinning, and then tucks it back into his waistband. “Thanks for the piece.” He laughs and disappears around the corner.
“Fuck, Drake!” I pull my shirt off and put it under his head. “What the fuck have you gotten us into now?”
It took me an hour to get Drake cleaned up enough to assess the damage those guys did. Figured dragging him through the casino and lobby of Caesars like a slab of raw meat wouldn’t be the best idea, so I brought him home to my place.
He’s banged up, probably could use a few stitches, and I’m pretty sure he has a broken rib, but he refuses to let me take him to the hospital. A few ace bandages around his torso and butterfly Band-Aids on his eye will have to do.
“He’s good. I loaded him up on pain meds, and he’s sound asleep on my couch.” I watch my brother’s chest rise and fall, making sure he’s not dead and that I’m not lying to Jayden.
“He didn’t even tell us he was going; fucker just disappeared. We should’ve been there. Had his back. I can’t believe this shit!”
“Pack your shit and get some fucking sleep. You guys are gone tomorrow, understand?”
“Mason—”
“Just fucking tell me you understand!”
A few beats of silence are followed by Jayden’s long exhale. “Yeah, man. We’ll be gone first thing.”
“Good. Pick Drake up on your way out of town. I’ll text you the address.”
I don’t wait to hear him confirm and press “end” before setting the alarm on my phone to go off every few hours.
This is going to be a long fuckin’ night.
I drop down into an overstuffed club chair and drop my head back, rubbing my forehead.
I knew their coming to town would end up biting me in the ass. I go from volunteer work at the Youth Community Center to drug dealer in less than a couple days.
My head spins, and I try to force myself to think clearly. Between Drake and his dad’s connections, they should be able to get what’s needed by the time I need to deliver it in a week. After that, I’m cutting ties with all this: my brother, his lifestyle, all of it. I’ve lived too many years of my life, saving Drake from himself, but now I have way too much to lose, and he’s going to have to start making healthier choices.
Or better yet, have his dad bail his ass out of trouble from now on.
After all, he’s the one who got him into this bullshit in the first place.
Seven
Mason
“There’s no way Tom Curren is a better surfer than Kelly Slater.” Wade tosses his cards into the center of the table. “Fold.”
“He is, bro. Google that shit.” I scan my fanned-out cards and pull two, flipping them face down and pushing them to Rex. “I’ll take two.”
After my brother dragged ass back to Santa Cruz with a bruised body and a shattered ego, my life picked up right where it left off, starting with poker night at Rex’s. Drake swears his dad will take care of everything from here on out and that I’ll have exactly what I need to deliver in less than a week. He better be right, but history proves I shouldn’t be too optimistic.
“I wouldn’t fuck with Baywatch, man.” Rex slides my cards toward him. “He lifeguarded with Hasselhoff; he would know—”
“Real fuckin’ funny.” I throw a chip at Rex’s head, and he dodges it easily.
“I can’t find my keys,” Gia calls from across the room as she makes her way to us. Her flowing orange hair falls just past her shoulders in loose curls.
Rex’s eyes dart from her to his cards. “Must’ve lost them.”
“Right.” She moves in behind Rex and runs a hand over his messy hair before bending over to kiss his head. “Hand ’em over.”
He feigns innocence and pulls her hand from his shoulder to place a kiss on the underside of her wrist. “No clue what you’re talkin’ about, babe.”
“I’m not taking the bike. I just need my house key.” She rolls her eyes and acts as if this isn’t the first time her man has put her motorcycle on lockdown.
“Oh, in that case, they’re in the freezer.” He slaps down two cards and passes them to me with a slanted grin.
“You’re annoyingly sweet when you’re protective.” Gia ruffles his hair again and moves to snag her keys. “So, who’s winning?”
Lane, Rex’s guitar player, organizes his chips. “Like you have to ask?” He motions to his stacks with a big dramatic sweep of his hand.