All This Time

by Marie Wathen

  “So you’re the new hottie at the TatHouse?” Decks asks stepping around the small dining room table, I feel his eyes, like a hot tip on a poker roaming repeatedly over every inch of my exposed flesh and branding into his memory. “Now I will definitely be making my appearance down there soon.”

  I start my cover job next week. How is that I could swing suck a badass cover? I had a talent for drawing in high school, took advantage of it in college when I hooked up with the local tat artist who virtually foamed at the mouth when he paged through my portfolio. I practically put myself through school honing my skills on eager and drunken college kids. I really hope this fucker doesn’t become a regular customer.

  Taking my hand and giving it an encouraging squeeze, Russ guides me over to a Georgia Tech outdoor fold up chair, sitting in the corner of the room. He dusts something out of it, that might still be alive, and I reluctantly sit. I quickly take in my surroundings, noting the dilapidation of this aged house touches every facet from floor to ceiling.

  My god, these drug houses just keep getting worse and worse.

  Russ begins talking to the guys about the plans for the drugs spread in front of him and an expected shipment due to arrive soon. In a matter of minutes, I am completely forgotten. While pretending that I’m devoting all of my attention to the sprinkling of split ends in my hair, I mentally log every detail they discuss and file away every face that passes through over the next couple of hours.

  I wasn’t joking about having a fantastic memory. I can remember specific details from childhood that blows my parents and grandparents away. Sometimes it’s a good thing, other times it’s a curse. Remembering painful events that others can selectively forget so easily isn’t a choice for me. However, in this line of work, it’s a gift that comes in handy because I don’t ever forget a face. That alone has won most of my court cases. Plus, when I actually get to use it, having a vivid memory helps me with the best part of this job. I’m a tech junkie and can write the hell out of some code. I get off on the latest gadgets, and can make a computer do things that the creators don’t know it is capable of doing. It’s completely fucking orgasmic. Don’t want me digging around and finding out everything there is to know about you? Don’t put it anywhere on the internet, even secure sites.

  “If Minder gets back in town before Friday, I’ll have another batch for the party and we can make bank off the preppy, little dicks that will be there,” Decks explains tossing a brown paper bag toward Russ.

  Digging into the sack, Russ bobs his head enthusiastically. “Sweet dude. Let me know if you want me riding with you.”

  “Nah, I think I’ll have you hang out here. Wise has some family shit and I want Murph with me. Think you can handle the house alone?” Decks asks Russ before glancing over at me, his eyes taking in every inch and I can only imagine what he’s thinking.

  “Sure.” Pretending he is thoroughly disappointed, Russ shrugs and then winks at me. “I guess me and that sweet thang can find something to occupy our time while we sit around waiting on customers.”

  “Cool,” Wise replies for Decks, who refuses to stop eye-fucking me.

  Stomping feet outside draws the guy’s attention toward the front porch. Opening swiftly, the door swings wide and bounces off the wall behind it. Two young boys rush through it wildly, making a dash across the room toward Decks.

  “Uncle Decks, Uncle Decks,” the boys, no more than six years old, chant as they leap into Decks expectant arms. They begin fast talking simultaneously, trying to bide for his attention and I can’t understand one damn word.

  “Hey Bozo and Cletus,” Decks teases playfully, pulling both boys into a breath squeezing embrace.

  I smile at how adorable the jackass can be with the children, but then frown realizing that these kids are too damn familiar with this drug house. Shit like this really pisses me off. Kids have no business being involved in this world. I can’t imagine what kind of parent brings their children into this kind of shit hole either.

  “Uncle Decks those are not our names. I’m Jonas and my brother’s name is Jonesy,” the precious little blonde haired boy shouts while pointing at his twin.

  “Mom, tell Uncle Decks that our names are not Bozo and Cletus,” the other boy demands looking behind him.

  Directing my attention toward the front door, I eagerly anticipate meeting the parental unit that calls herself Mom, and yet acts like a total moron by putting her children's lives in direct danger by bringing them here.

  A stick thin, blonde woman in her late twenties saunters in wearing a stark white linen dress and six inch heels. Her hair and makeup are exquisitely done, and the bag she clutches in her hand is definitely a designer label. I know because I have the same damn purse back at home. I grunt in disgust, knowing that I have one thing in common with a piece of trash like her and Russ shoots me a warning glare.

  “Boys, get the hell off Decks,” she orders, stepping into the room. “Now, dammit!” The bitch is screeching, all red-faced and furious, at the two cuties when they don’t obey her first command.

  Decks drops the boys, rubs his hand over both cotton colored heads and then demands, “Ah, get your prissy panties out of a bunch, Lourdes.”

  Ah, so this is Lourdes. Well fuck me and let the games begin.

  Chapter Four

  “Shut the hell up, and go get the shit out of my Land Rover,” Lourdes snaps importunately at Decks while walking through the small front entryway, clacking her heels across the broken linoleum floor. She stops just inside the room and glares at her brother with bitter hatred.

  Lourdes is an exceptionally beautiful woman with flowing platinum-blonde hair, styled superbly and her body seriously makes me want to puke. As a matter of fact, when she looks over at me for one brief second and her gaze rakes over me deliberately slouching in this stupid ass canvas chair, I threw up in my mouth a little. Too good for the likes of me, she doesn’t even acknowledge the newbie crackhead in the corner. Clearly she sees me as less than, which doesn’t bother me in the least bit. I’ve spent my entire life around Lourdes copycats. Hell, my mother could shred this little hussy and her heir-apparent attitude, without breaking a sweat.

  After scanning her over, from the top of her imaginary crown to the bottom of her silver Christian Louboutin’s, I peel my eyes away from the bitch and find Russ’ knowing smirk. He doesn’t know me that well. I flip him off slyly and then scamper over to the table where he is hovering over a small digital scale, weighing out individual bags of marijuana, his brown-bag prize.

  Placing a kiss against his cheek, I whisper into his ear, “Asshole.”

  “Mm, Angel you say the sweetest things.” He chuckles just as softly while glancing over his shoulder at me.

  “Rad, meet me out back to unload this new shipment,” Decks interrupts, taking Lourdes car keys, and jogging out the front door, followed by a couple of his stoner minions all too eager to get to the goodies.

  “Wait here, babe,” Russ suggests, pointing toward the exact spot on the floor where he’s standing before strolling out of the room toward the back door.

  Her highness snaps her fingers twice and commands. “Get away from the goods. He may trust a little junkie like you, but I sure as hell don’t.”

  Realizing Lourdes is speaking to me I tear my eyes away from the backdoor and look back at her. Her dark blue eyes are narrowed in and disgust rolls through the heated look she stabs at me. Rich, little, overindulged, nasty fucking bitch. Biting back all the comebacks rolling around in my brain, I obey the queen just like a good peasant. Bowing my head slightly, I slink back to my meager seating while keeping my eyes averted.

  “So you’re Rad’s newest…” She pauses and I glance up, noticing an evil smile crossing her lips as she forces out what she decides to title me. “Thing?”

  “Yes,” is all I say, looking back in the direction Russ has gone.

  She crosses her too thin arms over her chest and stares me down. “Well, keep your sticky hands off the mer
chandise, or you will answer to me. Understand?”

  My eyes lock onto hers. A clear message is being sent that I won’t be tolerated if I fuck up once. I nod. She twists around and strolls over toward the stacks of cash before turning around facing me again.

  “There is only one thing you need to remember about this place and your role while visiting. I am in charge. No new meat can or will control a damn thing here. Rad may be comfortable bringing you in, but I am absolutely opposed. You should consider yourself an unwelcome guest in my house.” Word sparring with Lourdes will only get me booted out so I offer another curt nod instead.

  “Good.” She strokes a fingernail over one of the rusty barrels of a sawed off shotgun making a sound that reminds me of nails on a chalkboard and I shudder. “I’m glad you understand your place. Believe me when I tell you that I do not mind getting my hands dirty.” She arches an eyebrow at me as she taps her fingernail on the firearm. Message received.

  Wise strolls in through the back door carrying a large box. Decks, Russ and a couple of minions, all salivating at the mouth, trail behind him with their own boxes. Dropping them on floor, they pop the tops and pull out large bundles of uncut drugs. I glance at Russ as he pulls out what looks like four, large cellophane wrapped packages of cocaine. Shaking his head, he stifles a big shit-eating grin before he stacks it on top of the table.

  Clearly, Lourdes is a transporter for some of their shipments. While her two small children run around the room, carefree and happy, as little ones should be, I fight against the growing hatred burning in the pit of my stomach watching as their mother and uncle continue on, not caring about how fucked up this scene is.

  Nothing would please me more than to call child protective services on this bitch’s ass right this very minute. But doing that will shut down this shit hole for maybe one day, just to have a new one spring up the very next. By the looks of Mommy-dearest, she has more than enough money to buy her way out of a CPS investigation. And probably any legal situation she could land her stupid ass in.

  “Split it all down and move it along to your guys on the streets tonight. We have another fairly large shipment coming in soon, but I want this shit gone first,” Lourdes orders while the guys just nod and continue busying themselves with unpacking. “The weed sales have been amazing with the possibility of some of the states deciding to make marijuana legal soon, but the coke sales are stalling.” She pauses to glance over at me before turning toward her brother. “Decks, take Rad down to the university and do whatever it takes to make sure your contact pushes the shit.”

  “Yes, mother,” Decks replies, leaning over the four additional rows of drugs.

  “Fucking college bastards moving toward this new risky drug makes no damn sense to me. How the hell are they supposed to stay up all night and study for goddamn finals if they’re using that shit?” She stares at me now with enough evil to burn down heaven. “You two good looking guys should be able to find some girls wanting it and I expect you to give it to them.”

  Gag! If this bitch only knew how stupid she sounds right now, she would shut the hell up. Taunting me with sending my “boyfriend” over to the college campus to hook up with some girl is so damn laughable. I wish she could hear inside my head, the cackling is deafening. However much I want to laugh in her face, I play up my acting role with an award winning performance instead.

  “Rad?” I whine drawing more than his attention away from the stacks of illegal narcotics. “I don’t want you going to the campus.”

  Moving toward me, Russ crosses the room with a prideful smile stamped on his face. “Aww Angel, you don’t have anything to worry about. My eyes belong to you.”

  Lourdes cuts in front of him, stepping up at me glaring with an all out haughty attitude. She’s so mad she could probably spit fire. “His eyes may belong to you, but his ass is mine. You better get it through that grease soaked head of yours now. Rad. Works. For. Me.” She punctuates the last four words while poking a manicured finger near my face.

  Rising out of my chair, I face Lourdes with a fixed look portraying pure jealousy. “His ass may belong to you in business, but he is my man!”

  Lourdes snatches my braid pulling me within an inch of her face. She flashes a look at me with an inferno burning in her eyes and then her laugh erupts deep from her chest…like a crazy person. “We’ll see how long that lasts. You are just Rad’s recent acquisition.” She jerks my head sideways so hard that my shoulder slams against the wall and pain erupts on contact, sending jolts all the way down to my elbow. I clasp my other hand over hers still gripping my knotted hair and snatch it away. A growl bubbles up from my chest. “Don’t get comfortable here, bitch. You’ll be yesterday’s slut soon enough.” Believing she gets to have the last word, she turns her back on me. Mistake!

  “Yeah?” I snap, “We’ll just see about that.” I put both hands in the center of her back and shove with every ounce of my strength. She stumbles forward into the massive chest of Murph, who snarls at me glancing over Lourdes shoulder.

  Thoroughly pissed now, Lourdes thrusts off his massive hands, holding her tenderly around the hips, twists around and breaks free, from his protective clutches. She glares in disgust for one brief second like she can’t believe I even dare touch Her Royal Highnesses noble garments. Irate as hell, she stomps back over to me and then I feel the firm slap hit me across the cheek. Fuming mad doesn’t even describe her boiling attitude now. She screeches, “Get this white trash out of my face.”

  Rushing around her to grab my hand raised ready to strike the bitch, Russ jerks me away from Lourdes. “Calm the fuck down Angel,” he growls. “I warned you before we came that I won’t put up with your jealousy issues.” Playing his role well, he turns to her with apologetic eyes and adds, “Lourdes, I’m sorry about Angel’s outburst. I guarantee she won’t do it again.”

  “For your sake, you better get this little tramp in line, Rad, or you’re both out on your asses,” she replies, still glaring viciously at me before yelling. “Boys, get in the car, now!” She stomps out with Decks following behind, guiding her sons out the door.

  Russ glances at Wise and Murph whose expressions are unhappy and challenging. I know what’s coming next and I’m prepared for it. “You made me do this. Remember it and learn from it,” he insists, slapping me violently with the back of his hand across my already swelling cheek. I crumple to the floor, nursing my stinging face and the tears begin immediately.

  “Get her out of here, Rad.” Russ nods at Wise’s instructions. “And don’t bring her back until she’s under your full control.”

  Lifting me roughly off the ground with his large hand squeezing my upper arm, Russ counters, “We’ll be here Friday night.”

  I would like to thank the academy for the honor of just being nominated for best actress for my portrayal of a domineering policewoman pretending to be a submissive druggie.

  Chapter Five

  By Friday morning my bruised cheek is a work of art. The colors are bold and demand attention. Returning back to Russ’ place the other night, I intentionally didn’t put ice on the area where Lourdes and Russ hit me so that it would continue to get worse. With Lourdes exhibiting her authority and Russ his controlling hand over me, I am now nothing more than a forgotten nuisance. This performance was necessary so that everyone in that room would accept me without fearing that I am an undercover cop. This world is all about power and Angel is absolutely powerless.

  “How’s the cheek?” Russ asks, turning on the small kitchen television and sitting on the barstool next to me.

  Chewing on a strawberry, I lift an annoyed eyebrow. “I’ve told you three times already that it’s fine. You hit like a girl Russ.”

  “You think?” Laughing he snags a strawberry off my plate and pops it into his mouth. “The shit Lourdes dealt out looked like it may have made you flinch a little.”

  “Oh, psycho Barbie has a heck of a slap, I’ll give her that,” he chuckles, “My acting skills are improvin
g if you thought that strike hurt me.”

  “Mm, hmm, so tonight…” he leads, waiting for me to answer.

  Sighing heavily, I push my plate away. “I am to be seen and not heard.”

  “You got it. We’ll have a steady flow of customers tonight with it being payday and the first of the month. Everyone with a newly cashed government check will be banging the door down to get their fix.”

  “Cool. Will we see any under-covers buying?”

  “Possibly,” Russ replies, taking my plate to the sink after popping the last strawberry in his mouth. “Last count we have six agents in different levels of this organization. I think the county has two, but they damn sure haven’t revealed themselves to me. Not sure about feds.” Turning around he pierces me with a serious look. “And I don’t care how chummy you get with anyone on the inside don’t let them know your true identity.”

  “What the fuck Russ?” I snap, tossing my napkin on the counter and standing up. “This isn’t my first goddamn job, ya know? I may look like a fucking teenager, but I’m far from it in experience with this world.”

  Cautiously, he walks over to me and then places both hands on my shoulders to calm me. It doesn’t. His hot hands warming through my shirt feels like kerosene added to a struck match. I shrug them off and push against his chest with mine making him stumble backward.

  “Easy,” He smirks awkwardly, keeping his hands to himself as he demands my attention with his head tilted down in front of me. “It was just a friendly reminder. You know if someone catches wind of any of our true identities we are toast.”

  “Russ, I’ve got this.” Mentally, I focus on the faces of my family briefly, remembering why I do this job and find peace enough to calm down. Turning away from him and stomping down the hallway, I add, “I appreciate your concern. No one will know a damn thing about Sam Walker.”

  Changing into my druggie attire, I choose something a little more demure tonight. Getting into the group took me getting noticed and possibly even desired by one of the other guys. But tonight’s performance won’t be the trashy girlfriend role. Instead, I go in as Rad’s old lady, a term I fucking hate, so everyone will know that I’ve learned my lesson and accept my place at his side.