I thought about telling him where I had been. That I had almost died and had gone to rehab. I probably should have. It would have been the smart thing to do. To be honest with the only pathetic excuse for a friend I’d ever had.
But Marco wouldn’t get it. And more important, he wouldn’t give a shit, because in the end, I had bailed. There weren’t enough excuses in the world to make him okay with that.
“I had stuff going on with Landon,” I lied, hoping it would be enough of an answer to let me off the hook without going into specifics.
“What was up with Landon?” Marco asked, as cold as ever. Of course he knew my brother. He had spent time at my house before I had graduated high school and Landon had been much younger.
“It was a bunch of drama with David. You know how it goes. I had some things to sort out and square away.” I had forgotten how good I was at lying. It was effortless, like sugar on my tongue.
Marco’s face smoothed out marginally, and I knew he had bought my story. “Well, you’d better get your kneepads ready, because you’re going to have to do some serious sucking in order to make it up to Gash. And I hope like hell you have his money. Otherwise you’ll be eating out of your asshole for the rest of your life.”
It was good that I had put the wad of cash from that last night at the club in my dresser before heading to rehab. I had sold the entire supply Gash had given me to sell. I had made the fucker his money before taking enough smack to stop my heart.
I walked back to my room and got the bundle of cash I had stuffed into a sock in the back of my drawer. I came back out to the living room and handed Marco the money.
He quickly counted it and looked relieved it was all there. “Shit, you actually did what you were supposed to for once. You’re damn lucky, X. Gash has been livid since you pulled your Houdini act. He wants you back at the club immediately. Like,now.He’s been on a hair trigger lately. He fired Randy and got rid of three of the bartenders. He’s tearing through staff like crazy. Someone’s lit a fire under his ass, and he’s ready to rip us all a new one.” Marco scratched the douchey goatee he had grown in my absence, looking as nervous as I’d ever seen him.
“I don’t think I’m going back to the club, man,” I said, ready for the fireworks.
And Marco didn’t disappoint. His face went molten red, and he looked like he was ready to spit nails. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he demanded.
“Just what I fucking said! I’m done with the club! I’m gonna try to play it straight for a while,” I said, hating that I sounded like such a pussy. And hating that I wished I could take back the words as soon as I had said them.
“Why in the hell would you want to do that? We’re making a mint! So because you’ve developed some sort of sudden moral fucking center, I’m going to have to suffer because of it? You really are a selfish prick, you know that?” he yelled, kicking over my coffee table.
“Dude, if you’re going to break shit, go somewhere else and have your hissy fit,” I told him dryly.
Marco gave me a dirty look, but leaned down and picked up the overturned table. He sighed and pulled at the silver hoop in his lip. “Do you have something against cash, Maxx? Because I know you can’t be so stupid to think you can get that sort of scratch at a nine-to-five. We’ve got a great little operation going on. And now that Gash is cutting down on people, he’s less focused on what I’m doing at the door. He’s more interested in his other side projects. He’s been meeting a lot with those dudes from Mexico. He won’t give a shit about some money missing from the door every night. We could even increase the amount if we’re careful. This is the time to make some serious coin, man.” Marco’s eyes snapped, and he was a man with some intense conviction. He made it damn hard to say no.
Because he was right. I couldn’t make the kind of money I did at the club anywhere else. I’d had my chance to make something of myself and had blown it. My art, even school, had become nothing more than wasted opportunities in the wreckage of my life. I fingered the bag of pills in my pocket, feeling their familiar round smoothness.
“Just come by the club this weekend. Talk to Gash. See what he has to say. If you tell him what was going on with your brother, he probably won’t use your face as a punching bag,” Marco suggested, and I smirked.
“Golly gee, you make that sound so appealing,” I responded sarcastically, even as I was already considering his offer.
“Just come by. Don’t fuck yourself because of some newfound scruples. Screw that shit. That’s not who you are. You’re fucking X, dude. Don’t forget that.” Marco pointed at the bag of pills I had unconsciously taken out of my pocket and held between my fingers.
“You need to take the edge off. I can tell it’s been a while,” he said, and walked out the door.
I crumpled the bag in my hands and headed to the bathroom, before I could talk myself out of it. I lifted the toilet lid and held open the bag, watching as a handful of pills fell into the water. Before the last of them could fall, I quickly stuffed it back into my pocket.
I flushed the toilet and then hurried down the hall to my bedroom, shoving the bag into the back of my drawer.
I slammed it shut and fell back against the dresser, breathing heavily. My skin was clammy with sweat, and my throat felt tight with the overwhelming urge to swallow the last two pills in the bag. I wanted them.
I didn’t think I had ever wanted anything so much in my entire sad fucking life. I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to crawl back to that, no matter how much I craved it with every cell, every molecule, in my body.
I’ll be here whenever you need me,they whispered.
I covered my ears with my hands and wanted to scream for them to leave me the hell alone! That I wasn’t that guy anymore! That I wouldn’t let myself be him! I had people who were counting on me. People who needed me to be someone different.
I slid down to the floor and closed my eyes. And then I leaned over and threw up onto my carpet. Acidic bile dribbled from my mouth, and I wiped it away with the hem of my shirt. My head was pounding and my ears were ringing as I forced myself to forget about the drugs I had stupidly hung on to.
The drugs, now that I had them again, I couldn’t let go of. I wanted to, but I had learned a long time ago that want and need were two entirely different things.
chapter
twenty-two
