by Amelia Gates
He dragged his head forward and grinned stupidly at me. “Kash! Come on in, I got a message for you.”
“You better come out here,” I said, taking a step back. “I breathe that air you got there, I’ll be pissing dirty for a week.”
I closed the door on his reedy laugh and frowned. On the one hand, he was more likely to talk now. On the other, I could almost smell the destruction on him. Destruction that I didn’t need to have seep into my own pores.
I shook my head and hopped up on the counter, waiting for him to drag himself out to meet me. If I knew drugs the way I thought I did, it would take him a while and so I didn’t count the clock. I just waited. And waited. He’d make his way out here eventually, that much I knew. And when he did, he’d be full of talk and energy.
I swallowed the guilt. I hadn’t been his supplier this time, and it was like Daisy said—Leroy had been an addict since before I was old enough to understand what that meant. Long before I’d swapped my drugs for his money. And maybe long before that, too.
After what felt like forever and an eternity, Leroy came out. He was moving like a cricket, and had his hands close to his chest, balled tight into two bony fists. His eyes all over the place, looking here and looking there, not able to focus on one thing or anything at all. At least not for a while. Coming to a stop in front of me, his eyes did a quick scan of my face before they went off roaming in every direction under the sun. His sloppy grin instantly switched to a grim expression.
“I have a message for you,” he said again.
“Yeah, you told me. What’s the message?”
Leroy wrung his hands. “I really hate to do this to you, boy.”
He paused. I waited. Crickets chirped. A dog or two barked in the distance. So much silence. Way too much silence. It wasn’t really the calm before the storm, but somehow, it still felt like it.
“Hey, did you finish the cabinets in the kitchen?” Leroy asked and I sighed.
I crossed my legs at the ankles and leaned forward, snapping my finger’s in Leroy’s face. “Leroy, focus. The message?”
He nodded and scanned my face with half lowered lids. “Oh! It’s from an important man. A very important man. He says—he says you best get your ass out of town right quick.”
I shook my head. “No can do, Leroy. This very important man must not understand the conditions of my parole. I can’t get out of town. I can’t even get out of this motel without written consent.”
Leroy grimaced, his hands twisting in agitation. “You got to! He says if you don’t, if you start selling again, if you don’t get out of town, you’re gonna end up dead.”
A flash of insight disrupted the indignation which tried to rise up inside of me. I hopped off the counter and got right up in Leroy’s face. “This very important man threatened my life? Interesting. Who was it, Leroy?”
Leroy scuttled backward, shaking his head in an awkward, erratic rhythm. “Uh-uh. No way, Kash. You know I can’t tell you that. Just trust me, you best believe him. He don’t want you here at all. You start up your business again, he’ll make good on that threat.”
I crowded him again. All six-feet plus of me hovering over the meekness of him. He was like an ant and I, the microscope. “Will he? How do you know? Has he done it before? Maybe with Hunter?”
Leroy paled and his lips thinned. If I said his bones shook beneath his skin, I wouldn’t be lying. “I-I-I don’t know, man,” he stuttered. “I don’t know! But believe you me, Kash, he’s capable. He’d do it, no question. None at all. No questions asked. Don’t cross him, Kash. You don’t wanna cross him. Just do what he says. Come on, man, don’t do this to me!”
I took one step forward and then another, not stopping until Leroy was backed into a corner – physically and metaphorically. I could see fresh chafing on his neck where he’d been lifted or dragged by his collar, and I knew it wasn’t my doing.
I glared into his eyes. “What’s the matter, Leroy? You in debt with your dealer?”
Leroy shook his head furiously. “Nope, nope, all paid up. Just guilty by association, I guess. He don’t want me buying from you. He’s real big on loyalty.”
“I bet. What’s his name?”
“Can’t, can’t tell you—”
I punched the wall beside his head. “Damn it, Leroy! This is my life on the goddamn line! You said so yourself.”
“B-b-but,” Leroy stuttered.
“No goddamn buts,” I bellowed. “Who the fuck is he?” This time, my fists found the spot on the other side of the wall and I didn’t hesitate to put two holes in it.
Leroy was shaking like a leaf now, his eyes wide open and the teeth left in his head chattering like they’d gotten a lick of frostbite.
“Jenkins!” Leroy squealed. “Dayle Jenkins! He’s got the big game in this town now. Don’t cross him, Kash, just do what he says. He’s scary man. He…he’s ruthless, man. He’ll set the dogs on you!” Leroy cradled his damaged arm against his chest, rubbing it as though he could still feel the teeth in his flesh.
I backed off. Of course it was Dayle. That ass had been trying to move in on mine and Hunter’s territory from the very beginning.
“Where’s he living now?” I asked.
Leroy shook his head. “Nope.”
“Leroy—”
“Don’t hit me! I’m gonna die for what I already told you, Kash, don’t make it worse! Figure it out your damn self. I’m done.”
Leroy’s chest shuddered and his Adam’s apple bobbed. If he’d had any liquid left in his body, he would have been crying, but he’d burned it all off.
I gripped a bottle of water that was sitting on the table and tossed the water at him as I walked away. “Drink up and get the fuck to sleep, Leroy. You’re gonna give yourself a goddamn heart attack.”
Dayle Jenkins.
That son of a bitch.
Everything started making sense now. That new client six years ago must have been one of Dayle’s targets—when Hunter and I got to him first, Dayle must have taken his displeasure out on Hunter’s skull. That explained why the murder weapon was in my shed—Dayle was probably trying to get rid of two birds with one stone. It worked, at least for a while. Now I was back, and he was nervous.
It all fit.
Confident that my name was days away from being cleared—and that all would be forgiven on Daisy’s end as soon as she heard—I finished my day’s work around the motel and went to her place on foot. Might as well try this whole bedroom sex thing again. That was, if she was up for it, which I honestly didn’t think would be a problem. Daisy never had stayed mad at me long.
I waited around in the woods behind her house until all the lights went off except for hers. Then I crept to her window the way I had the night before. It was open, as I expected it to be. See? She’d been waiting for me. I let out my signature whistle and grinned when I heard her get off her bed and walk toward the window. She was going to be so excited that I’d solved the mystery that she would—
Shut the window? I frowned, confused, and went up to the glass. From there, I could see her outline and then her face. I smiled and waved a little. She didn’t smile and she sure as shit didn’t wave back. Her eyes met mine and I watched as her lips dipped into a frown. Daisy glared at me like she was trying to shoot daggers from her irises and then she slid her curtains shut.
Well, then. I stood there for a few minutes, not knowing what in the fresh hell to do with myself. I wanted to talk this out before I pursued it on the off chance that I was wrong or had missed something. There was also the chance that she would know more about Good Ol’ Mr. Jenkins than I did, like where he lived or worked or spent his down time. Any info at all would be helpful, to be honest.
But she obviously wasn’t in a helpful sort of mood. I wondered briefly if she’d left the window open on purpose just to screw with me, but then I realized that it was still seventy-eight degrees outside and giving me the cold shoulder was probably making her uncomfortably warm. Mad at me as
she might have wanted to remain, I blew her a kiss she couldn’t see before turning around and walking my ass back home.
Chapter 21
I forced myself to go back to my bed. The book I’d been trying to get lost in was still sitting on my bed. I flopped down on the mattress, groaning loader than it screeched and pulled the book into my hands. With everything in me, I tried to focus on the words spilling off the page. Tried to think about everything and anything that didn’t have to do with Kash. The problem was, everything in me wanted to peek through the window to see if he was still out there waiting for me to change my mind. I’d known he would try something like this. No attempt to apologize, no contact all day, and now there he was at my bedroom window trying to pick up where we left off.
Unless he had come to apologize. I half-rose off the bed before I shook my head at myself and hunkered down under the covers, glaring at my book. I knew Kash better than that. He was expecting the whole argument to blow over. Brush it under the rug. Leave it so long that it would soon go forgotten. Maybe that had been my fault. When, in all the time that I had known him, had I ever insisted that he apologize to me or admit that he was wrong? Almost never. I let that boy get away with murder—I snorted at my own mental slip of the tongue.
Maybe I literally did.
I shut those doubts down as quickly as they occurred. I didn’t actually think he did it, I’d established that within myself long ago, I was just thinking with my anger. I had to focus, or any future conversations would only go around in meaningless circles.
Of course, I was pissed at him. Pissed at him for playing fast and loose with his freedom. Pissed at him for even considering going back to dealing. Pissed at him for behaving like a damn fugitive and trying to run away to Mexico. That was all, nothing more and nothing less. I was pissed. I held onto that, solidified it within myself, and took it to work with me the next day.
The library was quiet as usual all morning, with a handful of freelancers and retirees making up the majority, until two thirty when the high schoolers descended upon the building like a bunch of frantic locusts. Every class had some big project due Friday that they had all obviously forgotten about, and I was their designated savior.
“Yo, miss librarian,” some kid with a torn leather jacket and a pathetic excuse for a mustache said. “Can we get some help over here?” He mumbled something else and his friends laughed.
I glanced at him warily.
He was clearly the leader of the group—there were six of them, all obviously trying to look hard and tough. They leered at me, snickering amongst themselves as though the funniest thing in the world wasn’t the fact that they thought typing up some paper would be their tickets out of this town. I rolled my eyes. Ten bucks said they were about to ask me to find a book by I.C. Weiner or something.
I sucked in a deep breath and bit back my frustration.
“How can I help you?” I asked with a hint of warning in my tone.
“Yeah, um, we were just wondering—”
Snickers broke out around the table and he interrupted himself to glare at his friends. He looked back at me, a creepy grin on his peach-bristle face.
“Can you grab that book for us?” He pointed lazily at a green and gold book on the top shelf.
I blinked at him. “Is your back broken?”
His grin widened until every single one of his jagged, yellow teeth were on full display. “Maybe it is,” he laughed.
Wanting to get whatever this was over with, I did as he asked, stretching up to my tiptoes to grab the thing.
Snickers and whispers scratched the air behind me, and I realized that the leggings I was wearing weren’t quite opaque enough for the length of my mini dress. Heaving the book down quickly, I slammed it on the table between them.
“Estrogen: The Answer to Hot Flashes. Nice choice.” I raised a brow at the rapidly reddening teenager. “Anything else I can get for you ladies? I could grab Why am I Bleeding, or Self-Defense Against Breast Cancer, if you like. They’re right up here.”
“Aw hell naw…”
He and his cronies had a few choice words for me, but I ignored them, moving my attention to a table that actually needed my help. Remembering how teenage boys could be after being embarrassed, I kept half an eye on them. They didn’t do much, just a lot of whispering and texting.
I lost track of them after a while and hoped it meant that they’d gone home, but kept my guard up. For such a small library, there were plenty of places to hide if you really wanted to. I would know. Back when I was their age, Kash and I ran circles around this very library. If we didn’t want to be found, there wasn’t a soul who was going to find us.
Eventually I forgot about the boys entirely—that is, until the head librarian, Mary, hustled over to me with a steely glint in her eye.
“Daisy, we have a problem outside. Go chase them off. Call the cops if you must. I will not have that filth on library property.”
Here we go again.
I huffed a sigh and hurried outside, where I found those same kids huddled together around a grown ass man with a sunburned scalp and a creepy smile. I vaguely recognized him, the way you recognize everybody in a one-school town.
“Excuse me,” I said firmly as I approached.
The kids all whipped their heads around guiltily, but the man just casually shoved his hands into his pockets, his grin firmly in place.
“Well, well miss Daisy, how has your garden grown.” He slid his sunglasses down his nose to look me up and down.
“Do I know you?” I asked, bristling.
He winked at me and clicked his tongue. Suppressing a shudder, I met the leader-kid’s eyes. “You and your friends better get out of here before I call the cops. My boss does not like drug deals on library property.”
The kid started to scoff, but I interrupted him.
“Don’t start with me, kid. You’re not afraid of the cops, fine. I’ll call your mama. I bet she’ll have some choice words for what you’re doing out here. Bet she wouldn’t be opposed to grounding your ass either.”
He paled slightly and took a step back. “All right, all right, chill out, girl. We’re goin’. Dayle, you wanna meet up at—”
Dayle, the adult, cleared his throat pointedly. “You heard the lady, boy. Get goin’.”
The frustrated kid hunched his shoulders and slouched off with all his cronies in tow. I glared at the man and shook my head.
“You should be ashamed of yourself,” I hissed.
Dayle’s grin widened. “Don’t be a hypocrite, cupcake. It’ll give you wrinkles.” He winked at me again and strolled away, leaving me to indulge in a full-body shudder.
Hypocrite? Really? I never sold drugs to high school kids. Hell, I never sold drugs at all. To anyone. Ever!
If he was referring to Hunter and Kash, they both had had hard and fast rules about selling to kids. As in, never gonna happen.
I glared at nothing in particular as I realized that I was defending the same shitty behavior I’d fought with Kash about. Even after all these years, he still knew very well how to get under my skin.
“Damn him. Him and his dubious ethics,” I said under my breath as I went back inside. I tried to leave my annoyance outside before stepping through the door. Mary nodded at me as I stepped inside. She wasn’t much of a talker. On days like today, I was grateful for that because I wasn’t exactly in a talking mood either.
I found myself back in the rows of shelves and continued restocking books. My mood darkened steadily over the next hour or so. The good kids had all settled in with their books and computers so I could get back to my regular tasks, which I was woefully behind on. But I worked quickly and as long as nothing else happened I would be able to get through it all before closing. But of course, things kept happening. One after the other. Mild annoyance after mild annoyance. I just couldn’t catch a break.
“Computer four needs help,” Mary said as she bustled past with an armful of ruined books. “I have to get
these out of the system. Maybe see if some of them can be restored. You don’t mind handling the customer at the computer, do you?” It was worded like a question, but was anything but.
I pasted a customer service smile on my face as I set my own work aside once again and hurried over to the computer.
“How can I help you?” I asked before I’d even looked at the patron.
“I can’t get the guest login to work,” Kash said.
His voice rippled down my spine, stiffening it. Obviously, this was how my day was going to go. I raised an eyebrow at him, and he smiled sheepishly up at me. He handed me the little slip of paper with the guest printout on it and I snatched it out of his hand.
“Still angry, I see,” he said neutrally. His eyes were plastered to my face, searching it for only God knows what.
I huffed a breath. “Yes, I’m angry, Kash,” I hissed. “Mind telling me what the hell you’re doing here?”
Kash shrugged and gestured at the computer. “Looking for work. They’re laying a bunch of people off of the roadkill crew.”
I made a face. “I wish you wouldn’t call it that.”
“Why? That’s what they call it.”
I shook my head and tried the login. A popup blocked my progress, and I gave Kash a sideways look. “This one’s been used already.”
He sighed. “I was afraid of that. Trash bin logins have never given me anything but disappointment.”
I blinked at him. “Really, Kash?”
“Trust me, I’m just as baffled as you are. You’d think at least one person would have left time on their guest pass.”
I pressed my fingers to my temples and rubbed hard.
“I—just—sit there,” I said, exasperated. Storming over to the big, obvious basket on the check-out counter, I grabbed a fresh code and went back to where he sat with a goofy grin on his dumb, gorgeous face. I handed him the new slip.
“Try that. Why are you looking for work, anyway? I thought you were just gonna do things your way.” I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrow, challenging him.