by S. W. Lauden
Magnus pulled the bag from Marco’s head. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the fluorescent lights. Magnus looked like a different person with new clothes and a fresh shave. Magnus leaned in until his face was only inches away from Marco’s. He smelled of toothpaste and cologne. “One-time offer. What do you say?”
Magnus yanked the socks from Marco’s mouth. Marco licked his lips and tried to swallow. It was hard to even form the words, but he managed to force them out.
“Does a bear shit in the woods?”
“Good choice, but we won’t be living in the woods any more.”
›
It can only be bad news when the phone rings at three in the morning. But it wasn’t like Greg was asleep anyway. The thought of losing Kristen to Magnus was bad enough, but now he had to worry about their unborn child too. Last night Greg was back up on stage in Fullerton and now he was at home thinking about how to support a family on bartending tips. Jesus, I’ll be sixty when the kid’s in college. How the hell am I supposed to pay for that?
He watched the vibrating phone dance across the coffee table, unwilling to pick it up. The number was unfamiliar and he wasn’t in the mood for any more bombshells. He was relieved when it stopped just as suddenly as it began. Greg was waiting for a voicemail notification when the phone buzzed to life again. A different number this time, another one he didn’t recognize. The news that was waiting for him on the other end was even worse than he’d suspected. He grabbed the phone before the fifth ring.
“This better be good.”
“Sup, Greg?”
It was like hearing a ghost speak.
“Marco?! Where the hell are you?”
“Where I am is not important. It’s who I’m with that you should be worried about.”
Greg leapt from his chair and started pacing around the living room. J.J. was asleep out in his old garage apartment, but they could be back up the mountains before sunrise if necessary. Problem was that he had no way of knowing if they were even still up there. He would just have to hear Marco out, listening closely for any clues his partner might drop.
“Tell Magnus that if he lays a finger on you, I’ll—”
“Take it easy, dude. I got the situation under control.”
“Listen carefully, Marco. If you’ve got a gun to your head right now repeat after me: ‘I’m fine.’”
“Dude. I’m fine…”
It was just as Greg had suspected.
“…No, wait. I mean it—listen. Nobody’s got a gun to my head. I’m laying in a some huge ass bed with silk sheets, bro. And I’ve got a few friends to keep me company, if you know what I mean.”
“Wait, what? Are you talking about Ursulas? Marco, I don’t understand what you’re saying. Is somebody listening in on the call? Tell me where you are. J.J. and I will come get you.”
“What the hell’s J.J. doing there?”
“It’s a long story. We played a show last night in Fullerton.”
The phone went silent. Greg guessed that Magnus had finally heard enough and decided to end the call.
“Marco? You still there?!”
“I’m here. Kinda bummed you two played a show without me, though.”
“Are you kidding me? I’ve been looking all over the mountains for you. For months. Besides, it wasn’t like we planned it.”
“Who played drums?”
“Some guy from J.J.’s cover band. I never even got his name. It was a total fluke.”
“Whatever, dude. It doesn’t matter anyway. I was just calling to say that you can stop looking for me now. Everything’s rad.”
“You can’t be serious, Marco.”
“Oh, I’m totally serious. Like a heart attack. Catch you later, bro.”
The line went dead for real this time. Greg fell back into his chair, trying to make sense of it all. He almost jumped through the ceiling when Kristen brushed his cheek with the back of her hand.
“Jesus Christ!”
“Calm down. I was just checking on you. Who were you yelling at on the phone?”
She still looked half asleep. A little dazed and a little helpless. The mother of his child. Greg wrapped her in his arms and squeezed, but not too tight.
“What made you decide to tell Maggie you were pregnant, of all people?”
She pulled her head back to look him in the eyes.
“It wasn’t really my plan. Maggie called me.”
“Why?”
“To tell me not to worry about you and her.”
She lay her head back down on his chest.
“What else did she have to say?”
“Nothing much. She’s not at all the person I thought she was.”
Greg had his own opinions, but kept them to himself. He could tell that something else was on Kristen’s mind from the hesitation in her voice.
“Are you going right back up to the mountains again?”
“It doesn’t look like it. I think I’ve got bigger things to worry about right here.”
Spring 2016—The white van pulled up outside of the house in Studio City. It was early in the morning, but the crew was already assembled. They had three movies left to shoot at this location before moving on. The neighbors finally figured out what kind of movies they were making and complained to the police.
The driver jumped out of the van and went around to open the sliding door. Mary was still in shock from what she had witnessed earlier that day at Pete’s. She dropped both feet down to the pavement and straightened out her new dress. The driver had given it to her after the last outfit got splattered with Red’s blood.
“Where are we?”
“Does it matter? We’ll be here for a few more days, and then somewhere else after that. You ready to get back to work?”
Work. Mindless, mechanical sex with strangers in a front of a camera. Mary never used to mind it much when it was about the drugs. She just went through the motions back then, killing time between highs. But the thought of going back to that life now filled her with paralyzing dread. Red might have been a jealous boyfriend, but at least he had helped her get clean.
The driver grabbed Mary by the wrist, pulling her toward the house. She knew it was pointless to resist. The closer they got to the front door, the more she needed to get numb again.
“You got anything on you?”
He chuckled as they stepped inside.
“Some things never change. Come on.”
They wound their way through the crowded living room. The crew was in the middle of a production meeting. Heads turned to watch her pass, followed by hushed whispers. She just kept her eyes on the carpet, pretending not to notice.
The driver kicked a bedroom door open and pushed her inside. Lines were already chalked up on the nightstand. She knelt down and snatched a rolled up dollar bill in her hand. It was just like riding a bike. The first line disappeared up her nose. A bloom of dark energy swelled in her chest, giving her the courage to speak up.“Why did you have to kill him?”
“Because he broke our agreement. He was supposed to get you cleaned up and keep you out of sight until I could decide what to do. Nobody told him to fall in love with you.”
“I was up there for months. He never let me leave his sight. What did you expect?”
“Yeah, well I’ve been focusing on some other business opportunities. Now I think it’s time to stop being such a silent partner in this porn empire I helped start.”
She inhaled another line. Her renewed euphoria was already diminished, replaced by a familiar resignation. The insatiable hunger was back in control of her life.
He checked the time on his phone.
“Go ahead and finish what’s there, but then it’s time to earn it.”
“And what if I say no?”
“Then I’ll have to kill your friend, Kr
isten.”
Mary polished off the last line. She stared at him with pure hate in her eyes.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
“Not so fast. I have a more important job for you this time.”
Six Months Later…
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Chris reached for his towel, but it wasn’t on the hook. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten into the shower at the rehab without it. The anti-anxiety medication they shoved down his throat made him spacey. He was soaking wet and starting to shiver. A leaky faucet was dripping into the sink nearby, tiny splashes reflecting off the floor-to-ceiling tiles in the cavernous bathroom.
He hated everything about this place, starting with the creepy doctor that ran it. But anything was better than doing time in juvenal hall for assaulting a liquor store clerk. That asshole was threatening to press charges until Officer Bob convinced him to change his mind. All it took was a promise of rehab and a check from his grandpa to pay for the damages.
Chris took a couple tentative steps forward, his eyes scanning the room for movement. He just had to make it to his locker. There wasn’t an extra towel in his gym bag, but he could get most of the water off with one of his T-shirts. From there it was a short walk back to the closet in his dingy room. If he made it that far.
Chris was almost there when the first punch caught him in the kidney. The second blow came from the other side, landing on the back of his head. He grunted and fell forward, more from the wet floor than the beating. His head hit the metal door with a loud bang that sounded worse than it was. He tensed and waited for the third punch, springing to his feet when it came.
It was two of the older boys, just as he’d expected. They were in their late teens, but built like grown men. The bigger kid had an ugly round face that was covered in hideous acne scars. His slightly smaller sidekick was a new kid with a wispy mustache and a permanent grin. Chris threw an elbow into the smaller one’s throat. He followed up with a cross to the jaw.
The bigger kid lunged, but his hands slid from Chris’s wet body. Chris took a step back and let the momentum carry his attacker into the locker, just like Barrett had taught him. He grabbed his attacker’s mop of greasy hair, slamming his face into the locker door. Chris’s teeth were gnashing together when the attendants pulled him off.
Chris knew he should have felt ridiculous being escorted down the hallway naked, but it wasn’t the first time he’d fought his way out of the showers. Every day was a life or death struggle at the hellhole where his family had sent him. The most troubled teenagers from every local high school living on top of each other, sharing information about how to buy, sell and use drugs. Faking their way through twelve-step meetings and group therapy all day, and beating each other senseless every night.Chris had only been there for a month, but it felt like an eternity. Nothing the counselors said made any sense to him, and he wasn’t making any friends. Even with the three kids that shared his room. They all hung around together, playing cards and bragging about girls they’d hooked up with. Their fake friendship and ridiculous lies made Chris feel sick. So he kept to himself, pretending to read while quietly wishing them dead.
The best part of every day was when the attendants finally turned the lights out at night. That usually forced everybody to finally shut up and go to sleep. Chris did his best thinking alone in his bed. He came to conclusions that didn’t seem so obvious when he was surrounded by other people and their stupid opinions.
That’s where they were taking him now. It was supposed to be an afternoon of quiet reflection, but Chris had other plans.
›
Greg checked his phone again. If they didn’t leave soon he would miss visiting hours at the rehab altogether. But Greg wasn’t in charge, Maggie Keane was. Right now she was in a closed door meeting with her business partner, Mark Lathrop. They’d been in there for an hour already while Greg stood outside in the blazing Studio City sun. He was out there with the rest of the bodyguards and drivers. Technically Greg was neither, but sometimes he felt like it. They both live in South Bay. So why in hell do we have to meet in the Valley?
Maggie told him to come inside, but he didn’t want anything to do with their porn shoots. Greg didn’t have any hang ups about sex, but porn felt like a form of slavery to him. He’d watched too many of the girls coming and going with their plastic bodies and empty eyes. It might’ve made him quit if working for Maggie didn’t pay so much better than bartending or being a cop.
Money was about the only thing on his mind with Kristen’s due date looming. Less than a month to go and Greg Salem would be a father, whether he liked it or not.
It wasn’t the kid that he was worried about. That part actually seemed like it might be fun. And it wasn’t Kristen either. She’d only gotten more beautiful as the months went by. He really enjoyed helping her decorate the nursery, and arguing with her over names for their son.
Everything was fine, except for the timing. Not that there’s a perfect time to get surprised with life-altering news. He was thankful that they had Junior to lean on, but she had her hands full with Chris. And he didn’t want to bother Eddie because of his poor health. J.J. was doing most of the shifts at Eddie’s L Bar these days, picking up where Greg left off, now that he was working for Maggie full time.
A few things about Maggie had changed too. Something about Kristen’s pregnancy brought out a maternal instinct in her, or as close as she could come. Greg never got a straight answer out of either of them about how it happened, but she and Kristen became friends. That meant that Greg and Maggie became friends too.The three of them were spending so much time together that Maggie eventually gave him a full-time job. It was the kind of opportunity that could buy a lot of loyalty from Greg, and Maggie knew it. It didn’t keep them from fighting like brother and sister, but it was better than before. Except when Maggie tried to act like a badass in front of Lathrop and his crew. That still got on Greg’s nerves.
He thought he heard the door open, but it was just Mark Lathrop’s driver getting out of the town car to stretch his legs. Greg checked his phone again and tried to calculate how long it would take them to get back to The Bay Cities at two on a Thursday afternoon. Every passing minute meant another fifteen stuck in traffic.
He was getting ready to go inside and drag Maggie out when the front door opened. She emerged from the dimly lit interior and recoiled at the sunshine. Greg could see the half naked actors and actresses traipsing around in the background before she shut the door. He immediately headed for the car, but she stopped him in his tracks.
“Not so fast. It looks likes we’re going to be here for another couple of hours. At least.”
Greg spun on his heels, walking over to where she stood on the porch. He wanted to get close enough that their conversation stayed private.
“I told you I had somewhere to be this afternoon.”
Maggie started grandstanding for the assembled help.
“Well, change your plans.”
“I can’t. I’ll come back and get you if you’re staying, but I’m taking the car and leaving.”
“Jesus, Greg. What’s so important that you would want to strand me in the Valley?”
She practically started hissing when he stepped in front of her.
“You know I’m still your boss, right?”
“Only until I quit.”
He walked over to the car and started the engine. Maggie was standing right where he’d left her, a defiant expression plastered on her face. Greg pulled over near the front door of the house and rolled down his window.
“What time should I come back for you?”
“Eight will work. But so help me God, if you’re one minute late…”
Maggie spun with a dismissive flick of her wrist, disappearing back into the house. Greg sped off down the long, curving driveway and headed for the freeway.
›
The tests came back on Chris’s bag of weed a few weeks after Greg dropped it off in Virgil Heights. It was a potent, hybrid strain of marijuana that had been soaked in some kind of chemical compound. Most likely roach spray. It seemed like J.J. was right about somatic fusion after all—everything Magnus told Greg about Grizzly Bear was probably a lie. But that didn’t keep other bear paw baggies from turning up all over Los Angeles.
The Bay Cities was ground zero. A high number of the lowlifes caught with them had gone on some kind of violent spree. And every one of them said they’d paid triple the usual street value for the chance to try the hottest new drug on the market. Several law enforcement agencies in Los Angeles teamed up to create a joint task force to investigate the lethal new weed, but denied all rumors of its existence whenever asked. The secrecy only drove the public’s growing appetite for information.
Greg couldn’t decide if he was thinking like a cop when he blamed himself for Grizzly Bear coming to his hometown. There were just too many coincidences to ignore, starting with Tommy. The guy was a self-professed seller who’d come into Greg’s life right before everything went south. But Tommy wasn’t the only person that sprang to mind whenever Greg tried to work through the possibilities. If anybody was capable of unleashing a get rich quick scheme on his hometown, it was Maggie Keane and Mark Lathrop. He tried to put the hateful thoughts about them out of his mind, but they never stayed gone long.
Redd Kross was in the middle of “I Hate My School” when Greg pulled up outside of the rehab center. It was an expensive residential facility in Venice with a tough love approach designed specifically for teens. Grandpa Eddie said he would keep paying until Chris was an adult if that’s what it took. Junior and Greg both prayed that a prolonged stay wouldn’t be necessary, but it was looking worse with each passing month.
Greg got out of Maggie’s town car and reached into the trunk for his guitar. It was the same battered acoustic he used to play back in the early nineties. The case was covered in stickers for bands that had broken up when the first Bush was still president. Some of them were so faded and worn that you couldn’t even make the names out any more. He grabbed the handle and made his way to the front door.