“Thank you.” He grabbed a glow stick out of his bag. “Free for a hug.”
She jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. Against his ear she whispered, “I’ll do something extra for two.”
He wrapped an arm around her back, stealing a second hug and saying, “You matter, Melissa. Two for two hugs. Don’t take ’em both tonight, though.”
“I save mine for work,” she said as she jumped down. “I don’t need a glow stick.”
He handed the plastic baggie of extras to Meilei, because she was trustworthy. “Give her three.”
Then he marked three lines on his arm.
He and Meilei handed out too many pills to too many Lost Kids, and Nova was going to shit if he saw how much Tino had to put in.
So he fixed the problem.
“Why the fuck do they always get it free?” a regular barked at Tino once his turn was up. “That’s bullshit.”
“’Cause I fucking feel like it,” Tino growled back at him and then looked at the twenty in the asshole’s hand. “It’s thirty, motherfucker.”
“What?” he shouted. “That’s bullshit!”
“Then don’t fucking buy it.” Tino snapped his fingers at the next person in the crowd in a very Don Moretti manner. “Next.”
“Fine!” The first guy dug into his pocket, not realizing he was now contributing to the Lost Kids’ drugs-to-survive fund. “This crew is whack. This is the last time I’m coming.”
“We’re really fucking sad over that.” Tino yanked the cash out of his hand and pointed at Meilei to give him a pill out of the bag. “Motherfuckers with attitudes don’t get glowsticks.”
The great thing about being the only guy with candy was he could charge whatever the hell he wanted. Frankie would probably take a belt to him if he knew Tino was selling it for more than he said, but what the fuck did he care? Frankie always found a reason, and Nova had the balls to say it was his ass?
Jesus.
Maybe Tino needed to start blowing brain cells on ecstasy and poppers. It felt like Nova hadn’t been part of reality for a really long time now. Just caught up with fucking party girls and rolling his ass off when he wasn’t jumping for Frankie or barking for the don.
Somewhere along the way, Nova had cracked under the pressure. He gave up doing anything but surviving and taking the pleasure where he could. Indulgently. Greedily. As selfishly as life robbed him of happiness, he yanked it back whenever he got the chance.
Like a Lost Boy.
Eventually the crowd of buyers wound down to a few every couple of minutes. Tino was still tired, but it was too early for an energy shot. So he stretched out on the concrete slab like the king of party treats, with his head in Meilei’s lap and his legs draped over Carla’s thighs.
Like Tino, Carla was one of the luckier Lost Kids.
Working off her parents’ green cards, she wasn’t alone in the world. She didn’t live in some dingy apartment with twelve other sex slaves like Bobby or Meilei. She had a family, but Tino had to wonder what her relationship was like with them.
She’d been coming out more and more, and he got the impression bitterness was setting in. She was probably starting to resent that her pain and humiliation were paying their debts. Tino should know; he had days when he was very, very angry at Romeo for going to prison.
It wasn’t Romeo’s fault, but Tino still got angry at him. Romeo didn’t have to punch that cop. He could’ve kept his shit together instead.
Tino had days when he was pissed off at Nova too. It wasn’t Nova’s fault everyone wanted to own his brain, but Tino would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit it wasn’t easy to be his brother.
But he still loved them both…very much.
Which left him feeling extremely fucked-up most of the time.
Tino pulled the bag of extras out of his backpack that he had hidden behind him and looked at it. He handed out fistfuls of the stuff to every Lost Kid in there and never took one for himself.
He was currently a very shitty Lost Boy, and he was starting to be jealous of Nova, who went after the title like the overachiever he was.
The music picked up with a quicker beat, because the DJ was awesome. He matched the pulse of the music to the pulse of the crowd as they started rolling. Each song got a little faster, a little more sexual, making people want to dance a little closer together, and even without the drugs, the vibe was catching.
Sexy.
And it was warm in that warehouse.
The sweat already dampened his temples, and it made him want to pull his shirt over his head and show off what Mary made so much cash from.
“You wanna split one with me?” he asked Carla, because he knew Meilei was one of the few clean Lost Girls who rarely used drugs. “Just once?”
“Sí.” Carla nodded. “I’ll roll with you.”
“I’ll roll with you too,” Meilei offered as she caressed his hair. “For you, I’ll roll. Two is more fun than one, right? You deserve a nice night. You never have fun. We’ll make it fun for you.”