by Fox, Harley
“You won’t have to worry if the cops come by,” Maddox says, and that makes Trista frown. “And as for campus security, if they kick up a fuss just give them a little convincing that everything’s okay. You got it?”
Trista opens her mouth again, looking like she’s going to argue, but then she closes it and nods.
“Okay,” she says.
“Great,” Maddox says, turning back to address the table. “Now these are quarter-gram bags, we’re gonna go twenty bucks a bag.” He focuses on the Slingers. “I want them all gone by the end of the day, and I want to see the full amount handed back to me. You try a little taste of any of these, or you try coming back short, and you’ll have to answer to these two.”
Maddox points to Trista and me, and I scowl at the Slingers, seeing Trista do the same out of the corner of my eye. The Slingers give us a nervous look and nod to Maddox.
“Okay,” Maddox says. “Get out of here. Flynn, Trista, leave your jacket. You’re too conspicuous.”
The Slingers begin shoving fistfuls of baggies into their pockets as Trista and I slip off our leather jackets, hanging them over the back of our chairs. I loosen my T-shirt and hide my gun underneath it, Trista doing the same with her tank top. As she does I see some of her firm stomach revealed and I have to swallow. But I pull my eyes away.
When we’re all ready, the five of us leave Maddox and head for the front door. We get outside and all of us mount our bikes, begin to ride off toward the college, almost at the other end of town.
We head west through the warehouse district. The three Slingers are leading the way, with Trista and me in the back. Her hair flies back behind her head as she rides and I can’t stop from looking over at her, watching her. We leave the district and reach the roads with more traffic, heading north a little bit and then continuing west.
The gigantic PharmaChem building looms over us to the south, moving slowly as we travel along. Up ahead the sun beats down, and riding without that leather jacket feels much more refreshing. Beside me I see Trista’s tank top cling to her skin, outlining her firm stomach, those pert round breasts. My cock threatens to harden and I have to pull my eyes away, focus on the road.
Finally we see the college campus start to reveal itself. Multiple buildings spread across streets that cut through, Santa Espera College is the only place where kids can keep on learning once they finish high school. It’s the summer so there aren’t many students out, but the ones taking summer courses walk down the streets wearing shorts, T-shirts, skirts, skimpy tops. They all look so young as they chat with one another, hang out on the steps of buildings. Some sit in groups on patches of grass underneath trees. Others skateboard or bike down the sidewalks, dodging in between those who are walking.
Our bikes slow down as we take one of the streets that cuts through the campus. Some students turn their heads, looking at us. I see others elbowing their friends, pointing at us and whispering. We take a right and go down another street, to where one of the parking lots sits. Bringing our bikes inside, we park them all together, then kill the engines and get off.
“Okay,” I say to the Slingers. “Where are we going?”
“Over there’s the best spot.” Aces points to a spot by the overhead pathway between buildings. It’s right on a pathway, grass on one side.
“Then let’s go. Trista and I will hang back.”
“You trust us?” Aces asks me.
“No,” I say to her. “But a group of five adults looks stranger than a group of three. At least we don’t look like we’re trying to sell drugs to kids.”
She doesn’t seem to know if that’s a joke or not, but she laughs anyway and then we head off. The Slingers all walk together, conversing, while Trista and I stay about ten yards behind. The Slingers head to their spot as Trista and I go to the grass on the other side of the path. We stand together, watching as they start calling student passers-by over.
“Why do we have to be here?” Trista asks, looking around. Young-looking students walk by wearing backpacks, happily talking with one another. “These are just kids.”
“You don’t like selling drugs to kids?” I ask her in a half-joking manner.
“Do you?” she asks, furrowing her brow. I give my head a tilt.
“Well, these kids want what they want. If we don’t give it to them, then they’ll just find someone else who will. Although … soon enough that’s actually not going to be true.”
The Slingers make a sale as the student pockets the small baggie. Olly saunters over to a pack of students standing nearby.
“Why don’t we just not give it to them?” Trista asks me as she watches. “They’re young; they don’t know what they’re doing.”
“What are you talking about? They’re in college! They’re practically adults.”
“Practically.” She snorts. “Did you know what you wanted when you were in college?”
“I never went to college,” I tell her, and Trista looks embarrassed.
“Oh,” she says.
“But you did?” I ask, honestly surprised.
“Oh, yeah,” she says, looking away again. “For a year. Then I dropped out.”
“What did you take?”
“Economics. But anyway, these kids are, like, eighteen and nineteen. They’re still just figuring things out. Do we really need to be ruining their lives so soon?”
“You’d rather we ruined their lives later on?”
“At least later on they’re not so impressionable.”
Two friends approach the Slingers by the walkway, obviously there to buy. Trista glances around, looking nervous.
“Calm down,” I say to her.
“Aren’t you afraid somebody’s going to catch us? It’s not like it’s not obvious what’s going on.”
“Relax. Like Maddox said, we own the cops. And security guards are always a bunch of pussies.”
“You don’t own all the cops,” she says, and I furrow my brow.
“You know,” I say, “you’re starting to sound a lot like somebody who doesn’t want to make money selling drugs.”
Trista opens her mouth, but looks embarrassed.
“I just don’t feel good being so exposed,” she says. I nod.
“Yeah, it takes a bit to get used to.” We’re silent for a moment. “So … if this stuff makes you so uncomfortable, then why do it? Why become a member of the Bullets?”
She looks at me, and I see a stubbornness behind her eyes.
“Are you questioning my loyalty to the gang?” she asks, and I feel caught.
“No. I’m just—”
“Why are you with the Bullets?” she asks me. “Huh?”
I feel myself bristle.
“Because the Bullets are the best at what they do,” I tell her. “And because there’s nothing else out there that interests me. The real world is boring. You ever have a job? Like, a desk job or something like that?”
Trista nods.
“I had my first job when I finished high school,” I say to her. “I flipped burgers at this shitty place close to my house. It was awful. The manager was mean, the people there didn’t give a shit. I quit after a month. That was the only job I had and the only job I’ll ever have. Being a Bullet isn’t like having a job. We’re like a family. We drink and fuck and have a good time. I love it.”
“Have you ever wanted anything that the Bullets couldn’t give you?” Trista asks me. “Anything that doesn’t go along with drinking and fucking?”
The memory of Elizabeth pops into my head and I have to push it away.
“Sure,” I say to her. “There are some things.”
“Like what?” she asks. But before I can answer I look over to where the Slingers are huddled, seeing the girl coming their way.
“Oh my God,” I say.
Trista turns her head to where I’m looking and I hear her gasp. There’s a girl on crutches, maybe eighteen or nineteen, hobbling down the pathway with a camera slung around her neck. The thing looks
heavy, but she carries it no problem. But that’s not what’s making me stare. This girl’s arms and legs look … twisted. Bent around and out of shape. Other than that she looks normal, pretty even. Her jet-black hair hangs down past her shoulders.
I don’t know what to say. I’ve never seen anybody look like that before. I look over at Trista, about to say so, but stop when I see the look on her face. She doesn’t look shocked, like how I am. Instead she looks … pensive. Like she’s trying to figure that girl out. Or like she recognizes her.
“Hey,” I hear Twixer say as the girl begins to walk by him. She stops and turns her head. “You wanna buy?”
“Holy fuck,” Trista says in a whisper. I furrow my brow, looking down at her. Not far away I can still hear their conversation.
“Do I want to buy?” the girl says. “Buy what?”
“You know that girl?” I ask Trista. She’s still staring at her.
“What? No, but I … I’ve heard of her.”
“Buy some coke, little lady,” Twixer says. “Just twenty bucks, what do you say?”
“You’ve heard of her?” I ask Trista, looking at the girl again. “What do you mean?”
The girl raises her eyebrows.
“Are you selling drugs on campus?” she asks.
“She’s Jake Hawksley’s sister,” Trista says, almost in a breath. I look over and see that Trista’s eyes are glued to the scene. She looks like she’s doing some quick thinking.
Jake Hawksley … the name sounds familiar. And then it clicks.
“Jake … you mean from the Chains?” I ask.
“Come on little lady, it’ll make you feel good,” Twixer says. “Great way to party.”
“Yeah,” Trista says. “The leader of the Chains.”
I look over and the girl in the crutches doesn’t look impressed. Twixer’s got a nauseating grin on his face while Aces and Olly, grinning beside him, look sweaty.
“You shouldn’t be doing that,” the girl says. “I know who you are. You’re part of the Slingers.” Twixer and Aces drop their grins. “Which means I’m guessing you’ve heard of the Chains.”
“Fuck,” Trista and I say at the same time, and like one we start toward the girl and the Slingers. The girl hears us and turns her head to look. She furrows her brow.
“Stop it,” Trista says before I can. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Are you two with them?” the girl asks. She looks us up and down. “You’re not part of their gang.”
“Come on,” I say to the Slingers. “We have to go.”
“What the fuck, man?” Twixer says. “You’re blowing this sale.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you three?” Trista asks. “Do you even know who this is?”
The three Slingers look at the girl in crutches, who’s watching this exchange with suspicious eyes. They look back and shake their heads.
“This is the sister of the leader of the Chains,” Trista tells them, and now the girl in the crutches furrows her brow.
“Who are you?” she asks, but Olly interrupts her.
“How do you know that?” he asks Trista.
“Because I do my fucking research, idiot,” Trista says. I’ve never seen her this upset. “Now we’re exposed. Okay? Come on, let’s go.”
She starts to march away, but the Slingers stay where they are, confused. The girl in the crutches looks confused too, and even I’m shocked at Trista’s reaction. After a few steps Trista turns around, absolutely livid.
“Come on!” she shouts, and the Slingers visibly jump. They hurry to follow Trista and I look at the girl in crutches, feeling like I should say something. But I don’t know what so I just follow the others, knowing the girl is watching us go.
Trista leads the way back to the bikes, followed by the Slingers, with me in the rear. Aces catches up with Trista.
“Hey,” she says, already out of breath. “Where are we going?”
“We’re leaving,” I hear Trista tell her. “You guys blew it.”
“But …” Aces huffs. “But we ain’t sold all of what we got yet.”
“Not my fucking problem,” says Trista as we reach the bikes.
Trista climbs onto hers, angrily kicking it into life. The others mount up and when I climb onto mine beside Trista, starting it, I lean over.
“Hey,” I say, and Trista turns her head to look at me.
“What?” she snaps.
“Are you okay?” I ask her. “I’ve never seen you so angry.”
Trista looks abashed for a moment before regaining herself.
“This was a stupid assignment to begin with,” she says, and then she roars away, heading out of the parking lot. I look over at the Slingers and they all look lost and nervous, like they don’t know what to do. I motion for them to follow so they do. Once again I bring up the rear.
The ride back is strange. I feel guilty and nervous about what Maddox is going to say, but at the same time relieved. I didn’t want to be on that campus any more than Trista did. At least she said something about it. I just went along with whatever I was told. She’s only been here a week and already she’s got more balls than I do.
We ride back east, the giant PharmaChem building looming over us to our right as we do. Getting back into the warehouse district, Trista leads the way past the old and empty buildings to our headquarters, where she parks her bike, the Slingers pulling up beside her. I park mine at the end.
“Hey,” Olly says to Trista when all the engines have cut off. “What’re you going to do?”
“That’s not for me to decide,” Trista says, and she walks to the front door of the warehouse, slamming it open.
We all follow her in and I shut the door just as Maddox comes out of the office. He looks confused.
“What’s going on?” he says to us as we all approach. Trista steps ahead of us. “Why’re you back so early?”
“These fuckers blew our cover,” Trista tells him. Maddox looks past her to the Slingers all huddled together. I leave them and join the other Bullets.
“They blew your cover?” Maddox repeats, looking back at Trista. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, they tried selling coke to the fucking sister of the head of the Chains,” Trista says. “They had no idea who she was.”
Maddox narrows his eyes at her, looking confused.
“The sister of the head of the Chains? Jake Hawksley?”
“Yeah. His sister. The one person they should have known about and they had no fucking idea.”
“And you brought them back?” Maddox asks. “Did they sell everything?”
He looks past Trista at the Slingers and Twixer says, “Um, no. We didn’t. We only made about ten sales.”
Back at Trista, “What exactly made you think you could tell them to come back here?” Maddox asks her. “What authority do you think you have?” Then, to me, “And Flynn, why did you let her take control like that?”
I open my mouth, but I don’t know what to say. Luckily, Trista answers before I can.
“If I’m the only one with a fucking brain in her head, then you’re lucky I was there,” she says, and Maddox looks back at her. “What if that girl called the Chains, huh? What if they showed up and decided to take these Slingers on a little joy ride out into the desert? And what if they let it out that they were working for us? The girl didn’t know who we were. She thought it was just the Slingers. If it weren’t for me, our whole operation would be fucked before it even began.”
Maddox looks at her, his eyes slightly narrowed. He doesn’t say anything right away, and my heart is pounding in my chest. This may be the last I see of Trista.
“You thought the Chains could have shown up?” he finally says, and Trista nods.
“We didn’t have our jackets on,” Trista nods at our leather jackets, still hanging over our chairs, “for just that reason, right? You even knew the danger. I told you the college was a bad idea. And now you can see why.”
Maddox still looks at her, and
after a long few seconds he looks over her shoulder at the Slingers.
“Cash and baggies on the table. Then you three, go!”
The Slingers hop to it, quickly scurrying over to the table, emptying their pockets out onto it. Once everything’s out they turn tail and practically run out the front door as Trista and Maddox keep staring at one another. Only when the door shuts behind them does Maddox speak again.
“You did this one thing right, Trista,” he says to her. “But don’t overstep your boundaries. Remember you’ve only been here for a week. You don’t exactly have immunity yet.”
And with that Maddox turns and heads back to the office, leaving the drugs and cash on the meeting table. Trista’s watching him go and I look over at her as the door slams shut behind him.
Trista
I can feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
The door to the office is shut and through the glass windows I see Maddox sit back down in his chair, pointedly ignoring me. Beside me I feel Flynn’s presence, feel the tension in the air slowly, slowly, going away.
“Trista?” he asks. I finally tear my eyes away from Maddox and look at him.
“What?”
“It’s okay. He’s just stressed out, that’s all.”
I look up at Flynn and he’s looking down at me, his deep brown eyes soft and kind. The anger in me fades away.
“Thanks,” I say, dropping my gaze. The warehouse is silent around us. Nobody else is here.
“You look like you could use a drink,” Flynn says, and I look back up at him. When Maddox texted me at work I decided to fake being sick, in order to go home. I went to Captain Hartridge’s office to tell her, but she dismissed me before I’d even finished my alibi. I thanked her and left, but it means I won’t be going back to work today.
“Yeah,” I say to him. “That sounds good.”
So the two of us go over to the table—I try not to look at the pile of money and drugs, the taint of their memory still on them—and grab our jackets, then we head toward the front door together.
Stepping out into the sunshine again, we approach our bikes and get on. Kicking them into life I lead the way to Point Blank, going south.