Pillbillies

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Pillbillies Page 4

by K. L Randis


  The letter his mom wrote was crumpled on the seat next to him as he backed out of the driveway. Tina had a headlight out, maybe he would stop by Borders Garage before he left town to make sure it was taken care of before he left.

  In a way he wanted Tina to come with him but he knew she wouldn’t. She fed off the drama the little town offered and had too many ties to the people in it. He’d be better off on his own anyway, leaving behind everything about this town, his family and his mistakes.

  People would assume he was either still in prison or rehab when he didn’t return to the hustle of his privileged life as a drug lord. The town would only serve as a constant reminder that Lacey was dead, his parents hated him and that his girlfriend was a mirror image of his own life before he went to rehab. Only time would tell where he would end up.

  As long as he didn’t end up like Lacey.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Jared,

  Nothing’s changed. We are out to dinner, will be back in 2 hours. I expect all of your belongings gone and your key on the counter. Please don’t take anything. I left something for you on your pillow.

  -Mom

  He looked over the note that was taped to his parents front door several times as he positioned his key above the lock. The letter she had sent him in rehab was just as brief. It was a simple explanation of instructions she had sent him around the time she figured he would be getting released: She would get Dad out of the house, he was to go inside and collect his things, leave his key and never return.

  He was to never speak to them or seek them out again and disappear into the world as a son they never had.

  The flood of emotions as he navigated the hallway towards his bedroom were intense, almost as intense as when he had steered the Cavalier onto Rodeo Drive. A force of habit made him look at the stop sign as he passed, looking for the magnet with the logo he had created as a marker. So many times he had passed it, a rise of excitement overtaking him when he saw there was a drop or pick up to be done. It sat empty though, just another street sign on the corner of You Fucked Up Road and Never Come Back Avenue.

  He didn’t have a lot of belongings and his mom made it easy; there were three contractor bags sitting on his queen size bed brimming with stuff. The walls had been stripped of his posters, books and knick-knacks. Guess his mom found the bag of weed taped behind the one poster. The sheets were missing, there weren’t even hangers in the closet and boxes of shoes were unaccounted for, hopefully they were in the contractor bags.

  Oh shit the Nike shoebox.

  Jared assembled a chair from the kitchen at the bottom of his closet, his heart racing as he stood on tiptoe. Turning around with his back to the inside of the closet, he pushed on a false wall he had meticulously carved out just above the inside of the doorway. “There’s no way,” he whispered, pulling the shoebox from the masked depths of the forgotten cove.

  All twenty-four bags were accounted for, minus the one he had used that night. Sliding down to the floor Jared clutched the box to his stomach and stared into the empty space of his room. It was real. Lacey’s death, the overdose, and being ostracized from the family weren’t just bad nightmares or temporary glitches in his life, they were permanent and immutable consequences. The damage established a breach in blood ties between him and his parents so deep that only the Titanic would keep its company.

  He had to leave.

  All three bags from his bed were gorged with his stuff and as he pushed one in front of him and two behind him to squeeze through his bedroom door he remembered the note: ‘I left something for you on your pillow.’

  Jared didn’t care that the bags crashed to the floor when he looked over his shoulder to see what his mom had left him. Peeking through the crease of two pillows on the otherwise exposed bed was Lacey’s stuffed giraffe. The nose was matted and stiff from nights of snuggles when Lacey would rub it against her face as she faded into sleep. Jared carefully picked it up and grabbed the right front foot, tracing his fingers over the stitching his mom did as emergency surgery when Lacey had played tug-of-war with the dog. When he had given it to her for her first birthday he didn’t think she would love it as intensely as she did. As he pressed the sweet smelling lovie up to his face, tears steam-rolling down his cheeks, he was thankful she loved it unconditionally. “Thanks Ma,” Jared whispered out loud, stuffing the giraffe into his pocket.

  His curiosity led him down the hallway just before he left to see what Lacey’s room looked like. Unlike Jared’s, her room was completely untouched. Dust had collected on the few scattered toys she had left out that morning and her laundry basket was still a third of the way full with her petite clothes. He closed the door behind him as he left, kissing his hand and pressing his palm up against the white wood, a fury building up inside the cavities of his chest.

  The Cavalier shuttered when it started. “Come on,” Jared said, annoyed as the tires repelled the asphalt. He had to get out of town—tonight—and he still had a few stops to make to get his money, make sure that—

  Jared bucked the car to a stop several inches from the corner. “No way in hell,” Jared said, pushing the car into reverse and cruising backward. The sun had set and he squinted into the dark at the silver edge of the stop sign.

  A magnet.

  “Who…?” Jared put the car in park and checked the block. There were no other cars or headlights, no people ambling up the sides of the street. He placed a hand over his cotton t-shirt to calm the throbbing in his chest. Was that there before? No, he had studied the sign, there was nothing there before. Someone knew he was back in town.

  The magnets circumference was comparable to a can of soda. It took Jared a second to realize that the glistening white background wasn’t just new and shiny; the magnet was legitimately glowing in the dark. “Nice touch,” Jared muttered. A shaded emblem contrasted the background in the middle of the light show, a lightening strike maybe? He wasn’t about to get out of the car to confirm.

  Jared tapped the steering wheel. Making a left would bring him to The Great Escape, he could show up and see who was looking for him and—

  “What are you thinking? Get the hell out of here already.”

  Jared’s self-talk persevered, as he turned right and headed towards town. He didn’t even come to a complete stop before he spotted the magnet on the next stop sign.

  Burning tires echoed off the pavement as he sped towards Ramon Drive. Someone wanted to talk desperately enough to leave multiple magnets on every stop sign from Jared’s parents house to the bar. By the time he pushed through the doors to The Great Escape the adrenaline had forced his hands to start shaking. He pulled a red, vinyl stool from underneath the ledge of the main bar and ran his hands through his hair.

  “What’ll it be guy?” The bar had changed hands and he didn’t recognize the man in front of him.

  “I need to speak to Hank,” Jared said, using the old code name, “It’s important.”

  The man finished running a rag on the inside of a wine glass, “Hank huh?” He looked up at the lone fluorescent light teetering above the sticky bar, “No one here named Hank. Sorry guy.”

  Jared nodded. “A water then, I must be waiting for someone else.”

  The process of elimination was simple. The two females sitting in a booth off to the back corner were out, they were a drink away from toppling over. There was the Hispanic male at the end of the bar, covered in tattoos but drinking a glass of wine, definitely not him. The man in the flannel, older, but possibly his source, he sipped a Miller and stared at the muted television. The only other option was an older female, wearing some kind of fancy scarf, sipping on a margarita and humming to herself. Not likely.

  Half an hour passed by, then forty-five minutes. Jared checked his phone three times: Two missed calls from Tina, three texts from her too. No other attempts at anyone trying to communicate with him. Maybe he missed something on the magnets.

  “She ain’t coming guy,” the Bartender sang, wiping down the co
unter, “you’ve been stood up, whoever she is, want a real drink? You’re on your third water.”

  Jared stared into the glass of ice and shook his head. “Nah, I’m out of here, thanks anyway.”

  “You sure? We got some top shelf stuff going on back here, I’d get you one on the house, hate to see a guy leave a bar after bein’ stood up with no liquor in his system.” His smile was genuine.

  Jared forced a half smile back. “No, thanks, maybe some other time.” He pushed his stool underneath the bar and threw a five in the bartender’s direction.

  “Right,” said the bartender, shaking his head, “good man. Hank will see you now.” He winked.

  “Hank?” Jared’s eyes widened, “but I thought you said—”

  “At the end of the bar,” he said without looking up, “Hispanic guy sucking back the Rioja wine. If he offers a glass I’d take it, I stock it just for him, expensive stuff.”

  “Jared Vorcelli,” the man said as Jared pulled up a stool next to him, “so nice to finally meet your acquaintance.”

  “Wish I could say the same.” Jared positioned himself at a diagonal from the guy. He needed to be on his feet if he was some disgruntled customer from the past. He tried not to stare at the man’s unimpressive frame, he could have him headlocked in a heartbeat.

  “I’m Dex, I hope your accommodations in prison were satisfactory. I tried to supply you with the appropriate funds to make sure your stay would be borderline pleasant. Unfortunately due to overcrowding I was unable to secure you a solo cell for too long but I think the first several months were fairly pleasant, yes?” He turned to Jared, a bayou of black swimming in the epicenter of his eyes.

  “That was you? Why? Who are you?”

  “I’d be confused too, sure I would,” Dex nodded, “some things are better left unexplained. What’s important now though is our relationship moving forward.”

  “Relationship? I don’t even know who you are. How’d you know to put the magnet on the stop signs like that?” Jared didn’t recognize him in the least.

  “You always were smart Jared, but you ask the wrong questions.” Dex smiled. “No need to narrow your eyes at me, I’ll be blunt. Your skills and business mind are something I’ve been longing for since your incarceration. Miss Tina DeHaven was looked after, as were you, since I aimed to safeguard my investments.”

  Jared’s stool screamed against the linoleum as his knee ricocheted off Dex’s, putting him inches from the encompassing scent of Rioja. “You listen to me, guy, I don’t know who you are or why you think it’s necessary to check into my life unannounced but I have no reservations about kicking your ass if you don’t explain yourself in the next two minutes.”

  Dex merely pushed his glass to the side, wiping away a figmental spray that had come from Jared’s mouth. His lips pulled into a more serious line, “Are you finished Jared?”

  “Hardly.”

  “I’m sure Tina has informed you of the county’s new appreciation for heroin,” Dex started, lowering his voice, “I for one do not appreciate it, I’m sure as a business man you could understand why since my agenda to take over this territory after your demise was initially the plan.”

  “You push pills?” Jared asked, settling the stiffness in his shoulders.

  “I do.”

  “So why invest in me at all?” Jared asked, “You know as well as I do that they have a cheaper product with a more potent high. There’s no competition because pills are being washed out. It’s over.”

  “Not with my newest product it doesn’t have to be.”

  “So what, you need a lead pusher or runner? Not interested.” Jared slid off the stool and glanced up at the neon signs hanging in the front windows. “I’m not a part of that anymore.”

  “That’s a shame,” Dex said, pointing to his empty glass as the bartender made his way over. “Since I have something you want, I thought this could be a mutually beneficial sort of thing.”

  “There is nothing you have that I’d want.” His mind wandered to Lacey momentarily. “No one has what I want, they never will.”

  “I have the next best thing,” Dex teased, swirling the contents of his glass into a red vortex. “I have the name of the supplier who sold you the heroin that lead to the death of your sister.”

  “That’s a fucking lie,” Jared said. He felt his brow come together unintentionally. “How the hell did you know I overdosed on heroin anyway, no one knows that. Not even Tina.”

  “Is it a lie though?” Dex said, staring at Jared now. “I have a business proposition Jared. That’s all it is. You have something I need, and I have something you need. I need a solid operation running for my new product, one that will push heroin out of this area again and allow me to retire before I’m thirty. My men have done their due diligence tracking down the supplier who was responsible for the bundle of heroin you injected into your arm. Surely that is enough to make you want to stick around a few months to make things right again, hmm?”

  “Why don’t I just beat the shit out of you until you tell me, how does that sound? I can’t just hop into that life again, I’m on the radar.”

  “That sounds counterproductive and messy,” Dex replied, “And if you’re on the radar that would be the last thing you’d do. You’re smarter than that, remember Jared? You want to start over somewhere else, I can respect that, but you’ll need the funds to do that.”

  “I’ll make due.”

  “Hardly, not if you plan on bringing Tina along with you. How does three million sound? Six months, three million cash. You’d be able to start your life with Tina anywhere.”

  The number shocked Jared. He’d never pushed that amount through in such a short amount of time. It was intriguing and he hated himself for probing any further. Still, if he knew anything about the guy who had sold him the heroin…

  “How would I make that work without raising suspicions, I need a legit job and I don’t have a secured location for large drops anymore. It would never work. I’m out.”

  “Please Jared, humor me,” Dex said, that thin lined smile spreading across his face. “I have a Park Ranger position secured for you at Bells State Park, and a secure location for drops within that park that only you would have access to.”

  “That’s not believable. Park Rangers have schooling and certifications you need to get first.”

  “You have them.”

  Dexter opened a manilla envelope to his left, revealing three different certifications, seals included, displaying Jared’s name and birthdate. He read Jared’s face, “And don’t worry about trying to pretend you know anything about anything, your boss there has already been briefed on your temporary position and will steer clear of you as you go about your business there.”

  “You pay the guy off?”

  “If the shoe fits,” Dex shrugged.

  “No,” Jared said, pushing the envelope back in his direction, “not interested.”

  “No?” Dex repeated, “not interested in knowing the man responsible for taking your sister from you?”

  “I’m the one who took her, I’m responsible, not anyone else,” Jared said, “tracking this guy down won’t bring her back.”

  “You’re right,” Dex said nodding his head, “It would bring you closure though, would it not? What goes around comes around. He would never see you coming since everyone still thinks you’re in prison. I want to retire before I’m thirty Jared, I think you could appreciate the same opportunity.”

  “How old are you now?”

  “Almost thirty.”

  Jared nodded. He stared at Dex’s half empty glass. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Let me ask you something,” Dex said, swirling his glass and gulping the last of the wine, “your family has cut off all ties with you, yes?”

  “Yeah,” Jared said.

  “You don’t have a job, no kids, no pressing responsibilities?”

  “No.”

  “And Tina, where do you stand with her?”


  Jared peered across the bar at the two girls in the booth. “It is what it is,” he said.

  “So if there’s nothing left to consider…?” Dex started.

  Jared nodded, finishing his sentence, “What do I have to lose?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jared kept his clothes stored in their suitcases for three days after his meeting with Dex. Tina was hounding him to get them out of the foyer and by the time he made a decision on what he was going to do Tina had already made it for him. She was at work when he unlocked the apartment door coming home from a long walk and he heard the familiar rush of water coming from the room off of the kitchen. He put his hand on top of the washer, feeling it sway back and forth on the linoleum floor as it washed away the dirt from his past, tumbling the guilt and bad decisions into a sopping mound of a fresh start. How appropriate.

  A cheap flip phone had been strategically placed inside his mailbox two days earlier. There were no contacts stored but Jared kept it on, anticipating Dex’s call. He was still impressed that Dex was able to arrange their first meeting so quickly, playing on Jared’s instincts to head home one last time was really the only chance he had to convince him to stay. One day later and Jared would have been headed toward the beaches of California, maybe driving into the desolate outskirts of Texas or Ohio.

  Jared shifted through his stuff, placing his socks and boxers in the drawers next to Tina’s as he considered what Dex had said. He had a point, he couldn’t just up and leave with thousands in debt, no job and not enough to keep him afloat long term. Six months of work would be a drop in the bucket compared to him working the rest of his life at a minimum wage job barely scraping by. There was a chance Tina would actually go with him if he coaxed her into relocating to a tropical island somewhere. She only had her mom and brother, neither of which she was particularly close to, so her ties to this area could be severed painlessly.

 

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