I smiled at his enthusiasm. “Yes, I’m Andrea, but you can just call me Dre. This is my friend Brandon,” I said, and the two men shook hands.
“Do I know you? You look familiar?” East said to me, pulling his glasses down the bridge of his nose.
“I don’t think so, but I used to come here every summer so you might have seen me around.”
East snapped his fingers. “That must be it. It’s a small town and feels even smaller when you overhear how some of the women gossip around here.” East fanned himself with his clipboard and looked up at the house over my shoulder.
“So Dre,” East started, as I told you on the phone that I recommend that we tour the property first so I can see what we’re working with and then I’ll pull up some comparable homes that have sold in the area recently so we can get a better idea of price. Then I’ll go over my listing plan with you and let you know what I’m going to be doing in terms of marketing like hosting an open house, posting on the latest real estate apps, and so on.” He looked up at the house and made a few scribbles on his clipboard. “Sound good? Shall we?” he asked, ascending the porch steps and letting himself in the front door without waiting for an answer.
“I guess we shall,” Brandon said with a laugh as we followed East into the house.
Over the next two hours East did exactly what he’d promised and made a full evaluation of the house as well as a plan to sell and market with a full list of comps. After taking pictures for the listing he shook our hands and said good-bye, promising to email me the link to the listing in the morning before it went live.
“He’s an...odd one,” Brandon whispered without moving his lips as we waved back to East who had just pulled out of the driveway and taken off down the road.
“I like him,” I said. “He’s nice. And honestly as long as he can do what he says he can with the house he can be as different as he wants to be.”
“True story,” Brandon said, holding open the front door for me while I passed through under his arm. “Wanna help me pack?”
“But you aren’t leaving until tomorrow,” I started to whine. But then I saw something in the corner of my eye, something in the back yard. When I went to the window and spied out the back I could have sworn what I saw hoping over the fence was a little kid. He disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared.
“What?” Brandon asked, standing beside me at the window. “What did you see?”
“I think there was a kid in the backyard,” I said, opening the back sliding door and shuffling over to the back gate with Brandon on my heels.
“A kid? Like small and scraggly looking?”
“Yeah? I thought you said you didn’t see anything.”
“I didn’t. Not right now, anyway. But the other day I was pulling out when I saw him standing behind me in the rearview mirror. By the time I turned around he was running away. Must just be a kid from around here, curious as to who his new neighbor lady is.”
“Yeah, must be...” I said walking back to the house with Brandon. My phone buzzed.
“Hello?”
“So we’re having a party tonight,” Ray practically shouted in my ear. “Come to the house around nine. One of the GG’s is watching the kids at her house so we’re going to have a big bon-fire. Lot’s of booze. Be here or I’m coming to get you myself!” Ray didn’t give me a chance to answer. The line went dead.
“Party?” Brandon questioned. “I mean; I could go for a party.” He paused. “Or would it be too weird for you to be there?”
The sound of a branch snapping caught my attention and I turned back to the woods. There was a slight rustling of the brush. I waited and listened.
Nothing.
“Dre, did you hear me?” Brandon asked. “Would it be too strange for you to be there? You know, since HE is going to be there.”
“Stranger things have happened,” I said, still looking out into the woods.
“Huh? No offense, but...what the fuck are you talking about?” he asked. “I’m talking about a party and you’re looking out into space like you just saw the ghost of Christmas future or some crap.”
“Party. Me. You. Got ya. I’m in,” I said, heading back into the house with an eerie sense of dread looming over me. I didn’t know if it was because of the party and the thought of seeing him again, or because when all the hairs on my arm stood on end I couldn’t shake a certain feeling.
A feeling like I was being watched.
****
CHAPTER TEN
PREPPY
“Hey! Get your ass up and come to the garage. We have something for you,” King boomed from the bottom of the porch. I sat on the front steps of fucking around with my new laptop. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Looking up nude pics of your mom.”
“Turn off the porn and come with me,” he demanded.
“I’m not even looking at porn. Just checking to see what the fuck’s been going on in the world since I dropped off the face of it,” I admitted.
“Anything interesting?” King asked, putting a cigarette between his lips but not lighting it.
“Well, it seems I missed the election,” I said.
“For what?” King asked.
“President.”
“Of what?”
“Of the United States.”
“Of what?” King asked, again.
I glanced up to see him smiling. He’d been fucking with me. “You’re such a fucker. I was starting to think all that tattoo ink seeped into your brain,” I said. “I thought I was the one who is supposed to have all the jokes.”
Bear appeared next to King. “We’re just filling in for you until after the surgery,” he said, firing a text on his phone and shoving it back into his pocket.
“What surgery? What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked, wondering if I’d missed something.
“You know, the one to remove your head out of your ass,” Bear said with a booming laugh.
I flicked him off. “I hope your kid doesn’t inherit your dick-headedness, in fact, you better hope it doesn’t get your looks either because you got nothing to offer in that department.”
“I actually agree with you there. The more the kid gets from Ti the better,” he said, looking less like the grumpy as fuck Bear I remembered and more like this weird happy guy who invaded his body. It was like watching one of those alien invasion shows and Bear was the product of some happy as fuck alien who decided to take up residence in his shirtless as fuck body. “But right now,” Bear continued. “I need you to get your fucking ass up and come to the garage. We have something for you.”
“What? Why?” I asked.
“Why? Because I fucking said so. Get up. Come on. Don’t be a bitch,” King said.
“I’ll be there, give me one second.” I pulled up the social networking site I’d been on when they’d interrupted me.
I’d told the truth when I told King I wasn’t looking at porn. My dick hadn’t exactly gotten the memo that I was alive just yet, but I had hopes for the fucker or else it was just a huge useless dead thing hanging between my legs about 60 years too fucking soon.
Glaring back at me from the computer screen was shiny black hair and dark almost black eyes. In her profile picture she was standing on dark sand behind grassy dunes, nothing like the beaches in the Logan’s Beach area. It was a candid shot. She wasn’t looking at the camera, instead she was looking off in the distance, the shadow of whoever took the picture was overlapping part of her face and immediately I hated whoever that motherfucker was who took the picture. Guy or girl. Maybe because it was obstructing me of a full view of her face or maybe it was because she looked so unguarded and I hated anyone who wasn’t me who’d gotten to see her that way.
She didn’t post that often. The sporadic pictures that were on her timeline were all dated several months apart.
I clicked on the ABOUT info section of her page.
“Come the fuck on!” King yelled out and thank God he was at the
garage or my head would be swimming with the sound of his deep bellowing voice.
“Jesus fucking Christ you two!” I shouted back. Before I shutdown the computer I might have made Bear and King wait forty seconds more so I could hack into Dre’s Facebook account and updated her relationship status.
To married.
I wasn’t sure why the fuck I did it, but I was happy as fuck that I did. And when I walked out the front door and headed toward the garage to meet Bear and King it was with a big genuine fucking smile plastered all over my fucking face.
PREPPY
“God, I’ve fucking missed you, you’re so fucking beautiful,” I cooed, like I was talking to an infant. I lifted the triangle of broken mirror to eye level so I could get a more up close and personal look at the perfect lines of white powder, separated in picturesque rows on top of the glass. “Fuck, I think I’m tearing up... it’s been too fucking long, but that’s alright, we’re gonna fix that, right now. We’re gonna fix it so fucking good, baby.”
“You gonna snort that shit or fuck it?” Bear asked and both he and King laughed reminding me that there were two others in King’s studio besides me and the blow.
Bear was sitting on the floor with one leg pulled up so he could rest his elbow across it, his back against a bank of drawers that opened to one of King’s many toolboxes. King sat on a rolling stool with his elbow propped up against a built in counter space set back in the wall, a beer to his lips. My blow and I were taking up space on the middle cushion of the black leather couch meant to be a waiting area for King’s tattoo clients.
The studio was all brand new. Something King had put in when he rebuilt the garage and the garage apartment. It was small, but it was clean, and all the equipment was state of the art. A custom neon sign hung over the door on the inside. It was a skull wearing a crown and a bow tie. KING’S TATTOO that blinked from green to blue to red. With all the lights off inside the wall color change, reflecting a slightly different hue with every switch of the sign.
King had never needed to keep up the tattoo business, the money he made permanently marking the skin of bikers and spring breakers was only a fraction of what we made with the Granny Growhouses plus the other shit we always had our hands in. But as I looked around at the framed pictures of the work that King had recently done, I knew that he kept it up because it was a part of him.
The same way I was gonna fuck up some blow. Because it was a part of me. Or at least, it was gonna be.
“Come to Daddy,” I said. I held the rolled up bill to my nose and closed one nostril, leaning over I snorted up every last bit of the cocaine goodness. I sat back up, sniffling to make sure every last bit of white powdered goodness was as far up in my fucking brain as possible. I wiped my nose and it hit me harder than I ever remember it hitting.
The high was fucking incredible.
I felt invincible as Bear took the bill from my hand and snorted his own line. He passed it to King who shook his head and held up the joint he was smoking.
“Don’t tell me you don’t party anymore,” I said. “You that pussy whipped where you can’t do a little fucking blow with your long lost dead fucking friend? I mean, we’re following all the rules right? It’s after dark, the kids aren’t home, and we’re in your shop in the garage. Article FIFTEEN, LINE TWENTY SEVEN of all your new fucking rules clearly states that this is an acceptable time to get seriously fucked up.”
“Nope, these days I just prefer to slow the fuck down instead of speed the fuck up. It’s called relaxing in case you’ve never heard of it.”
“Sounds fucking awful,” I said, dumping more powder from the baggie onto the mirror. “Although whatever you’ve been doing has really upped your tatt game.” I pointed to the collection of pictures on the wall. “Some of that shit is downright amazing man.” I tipped my chin to one on the bottom. A sleeve on a woman’s arm with light grey colors mixed with pinks and blues. “I mean that one’s girly but still really fucking badass.”
King laughed. “Ray did that one.”
I knew she was assisting King and that she’d tattooed the bird on his hand, but I didn’t know she was on that level.
“She’s getting pretty fucking good,” King said, beaming with pride.
“So I figure I can borrow your truck for now if that’s alright with you, Boss-Man,” I started, taking the joint he passed me. The blow putting into overdrive my lazy brain and for a few moments made me feel almost fucking normal.
Almost.
“I think I’ve got some cash buried somewhere just gotta remember where first, then I’ll go into Dunn’s over in Coral Pines and get my own ride, seeing as how my last one exploded and all.”
“Why?” King asked like it was a far fetched idea.
“See, cars take you from point A to motherfucking point B,” I pointed out. “Wait, you’re the one who has a degree and Bear’s the high school drop out, right? That’s not something that’s twisted up in my memory?
Bear laughed and King rolled over and kicked his foot.
“How the fuck else am I gonna get to the GG’s to inspect and collect?” They paused their little tickle slap and I didn’t miss the concerned look that passed between them.
“Preppy, you don’t have to go back to work. We only have three or four left of the GG houses anyway. I got Billy working them for now, plus Ray helps out. There’s no rush.”
“Billy? Like chef Billy?”
“That’s the one. His place got flooded a few months back and until the insurance kicks in he’s been helping out here and there,” King explained.
Bear scratched his neck. “Yeah, man. So you can relax for a hot second. Heal. Take some fucking time for yourself.”
I shook my head. “I’ve spent too much time alone thinking. I don’t need to do it anymore. I’m fucking ready.” I stared them both down and wiped at my nose. “Are you gonna tell me that I’m not?”
“Preppy,” King said, leaning forward and taking a long slow drag on his joint. “Ray needs the truck for the kids and I’ve got my bike, but Bear and I already talked about it and he’s got a few rides around the club laying around we can get fixed up for you.”
“Alright then,” I said, snorting two more lines and lighting my own cigarette. “I missed drugs,” I lamented. Cocaine may not be comforting to some people, but to me it was like meatloaf and apple pie.
It was home.
I looked up to the ceiling and then through the window of the backyard. “How the fuck did you afford this garage? The house being fixed up? Last I checked your finances solely revolved around getting Max back and that was more than any of us had combined.”
King filled me in on the story, although I felt like it was more of the same deja-vu I felt with Thia when he was telling me about Ray’s ex husband and Max and going to rescue her from the psycho.
“That didn’t answer my question. How can you afford all this?”
Bear chimed in. “Because as it turns out, King didn’t need the money for Max. Senator man brought her back on his own accord. Then it seems that Ray came into some money. Like a lot of fucking money.” Bear smiled, “So...”
“Boss-man,” I said, turning my attentions to him. He was already rolling his eyes. “You’ve got a sugar mama?”
“Go fuck yourself, prep,” King said although he was laughing when he said it. He took the bottle of whiskey from Bear and poured a long stream down his throat before passing it to me.
I was still swallowing when Bear sat up from the toolbox. He looked at me with a serious look on his face. A look I wanted to avoid because serious looks came with serious questions and I wanted nothing to do with those. “Prep, I gotta ask you. The girl. The one who came to see you. I remembered her from back in the day. I thought she was a BBB or something but that doesn’t seem right either.”
“Or something,” I shrugged, taking another shot from the bottle. I passed it back to Bear.
“Prep, I’ve known you since we were stupid and young, now that
I’m older and a little less stupid, I know there’s more to this story then you’re telling me ‘cause there ain’t no fucking way a BBB would be comin’ round here unless it was to knife you in your sleep.”
“I’d like to hear this too,” King said, leaning forward onto his knees.
“Ain’t much to say,” I lied. “You might know her a lot better than you think you do,” I said to Bear.
Like backdoor better.
“Well if she was a club girl then yeah, of course I know her. And I recognized her right away when she came over to the house. I just can’t remember her around the club, or being at the parties with the other BBB’s.”
“She wasn’t a BBB. She was...a girl who hung around,” I tried to explain without going into too much detail, growing more and more frustrated with the fucking inquisition.
“A friend...who you were fucking?” King asked.
I sighed and leaned my elbows on my knees. “You’d just got sent away,” I said to King. “And Bear was out on that long ass ride to wherever. Grace was in the treatment center. Dre came around strung out on H.” I smiled at the memory. “She tried to rob one of my GG’s. Turned out to be her grandmother's house. Mirna. She stuck around. Helped me with some shit I needed help with. Then she left. That was all there was to it.” I shrugged and passed the bill to Bear who snorted two lines off the table. His dark blue eyes were open wide, bright, and clear as fuck. “Not a fucking big deal,” I added.
“Prep, this girl came back after years out of nowhere, and then the wife thing,” Bear said like he was trying to prove a point. “We don’t know this chick. She could be involved in all this somehow. Part of the master plan that kept you locked up for Chop. Maybe if you tell us more. Tell us exactly what happened down there,” he pushed.
“No fucking way,” I said.
“Preppy, if you tell us then...” King started.
“Listen,” I cut him off. I pointed between the two of them. “I know you two are looking to find out what happened to me. To see who else was in on it or who helped Chop cover up the fact that I was still alive. I get that we need to figure out who else might have had their hands in this so we can wipe them from the face of the fucking planet, but put your fucking detective hats away for one second here. The girl, Dre, she isn’t trying to scam you or kill me or anything like that. She didn’t have a part in any of Chop’s crazy shit. I called her my wife when I was coming to because I was coming out of a motherfucking coma. I mean, I saw this video once on MeTube where the guy was waking up from dental surgery and thought his wife was Mother Teresa, started praying to her and everything.”
Preppy, The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part TWO (King) Page 8