Then I was running toward my car.

chapter

thirty-five

maxx

“if you don’t want to come tonight, I’ll take the stuff back to Gash, no worries,” Marco said. He had come by my apartment just before seven. He was getting ready to head to the club and was decked out in his scary bouncer gear.

“Dude, why are you being such a pussy about me coming tonight? I don’t get it,” I said. My nerves were fucked as it was. Marco’s sudden apprehension was getting to me.

“I heard what happened to you, you know,” Marco said suddenly, grabbing a soda from the fridge and popping the top.

“What are you talking about?” I asked. The bags of pills sat on the counter. I had been staring at them for the last few hours wondering what the hell I was getting myself into.

I couldn’t let myself touch them. Because then I knew I’d be lost. I tore my eyes from the drugs and looked at my friend.

“What do you mean you know what happened to me?”

“I ran into Landon last week. He’s become a cocky little shit, hasn’t he?” Marco asked, downing the rest of his soda and tossing it into the trash. I was impressed when he actually made the shot.

“He can be. Where’d you see him?” I asked, not sure how I felt knowing Marco spoke to my brother. But they knew each other from back in the day. I guessed it wasn’t totally weird.

“He hangs out at the body shop on Fifth. My buddy Dan is a mechanic over there. Landon was helping Chandler do some detailing work. He’s got a lot of talent. Must take after his jackass brother,” Marco grumbled, though I recognized the compliment in the insult.

“Yeah, he’s pretty good,” I agreed. Marco and I didn’t make a habit of talking about shit. This entire conversation was dangling into twilight zone territory.

“So he told me you were in rehab and that you had OD’d or something.”

Well, shit.

“So you weren’t dealing with Landon stuff. You were in fucking rehab,” Marco said, scowling.

“Did he just come out and tell you that?” I asked, irritated.

“No. I asked him what he had going on that caused you to drop off the planet for a month. He didn’t know what I was talking about. Then he told me where you had really gone.”

“So I went to rehab. What’s it to you?” I asked defensively.

Marco’s scowl deepened. “You should have told me, man,” he said, his voice gruff.

I laughed. “Why? So we could talk about our feelings and crap? That’s not how we work. I wasn’t going to tell you that kind of thing.”

Marco actually seemed a little hurt.

“I would have understood, you know. My mom went to rehab when I was a kid. I would have gotten it.”

I was shocked. I didn’t know much about Marco’s past. We weren’t the type of friends to braid each other’s hair and talk about deep stuff. I didn’t know anything about his parents or where he came from. It had never mattered.

I had been so shallow.

“I didn’t know. Sorry, dude,” I said sincerely.

Marco waved away my words. “Whatever. It’s no big deal. But I wish you had been up front with me,” he stated.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t something I wanted to broadcast.”

“Why in the hell are you doing this tonight then?” Marco asked, poking one of the bags with his finger.

“I need the money. I’m floundering big-time. I like the idea of food and electricity,” I responded.

“You don’t need to sling this stuff to make money, dickhead,” Marco scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m running out of options, so if you have any ideas, please share them.” I was getting pissed at his attitude. It was a little late to be spouting this BS. Marco tapped his fingers on the countertop, looking uncharacteristically unhappy.

“What about your art stuff ? I mean, people love that stuff. Why not try and sell it to real buyers?”

I sighed in frustration, feeling like I was banging my head against a wall.

“Dude, don’t you think I’ve already tried that? Let’s just say I didn’t make the best impression with the one gallery that I spoke with.”

Marco frowned. “It was one gallery, X, there are more out there. Why don’t you try with another one?”

I chewed on my lip, unnerved by his sudden interest in the legit parts of my life. “What’s this about, Marco? Why are you working so hard to talk me out of doing this tonight? It’s what I’m good at. It’s what I know. I thought you’d be stoked to have me back.”

Marco pushed himself away from the counter and started pacing the room. I had never seen him so worked up. Something major was happening. “What’s going on, Marco? And don’t feed me a line. Be straight with me,” I said sharply.

Marco stopped his manic pacing and looked at me. “I’ve just heard some talk,” he began.

“Yeah, you said something about rumblings at the club. What’ve you heard?”

Marco started playing with the ring in his lip. “Just some people have said that Gash has been marked by the cops. They’ve never bothered him before, but with all these fucking drugs he’s bringing into the area, they can’t ignore his operation anymore.”

Well, damn. I hadn’t expected him to say that. But that had always been part of the appeal of the club. The adrenaline rush that went with doing something you knew was wrong. “It’s probably just talk, Marco—”

“No, I really don’t think it is. I’m not one of those pussies who go on about their gut feelings, but I think there’s more to it than just talk.”

I picked up one of the bags of pills. It was heavy in my hands. I slowly unzipped it and took out one of the smaller bags containing ten tiny blue pills. I wondered if there would ever be a time when I wouldn’t want them. I wondered if I’d ever be able to get through a day without wishing I was high.

I’m tired of craving something that could kill me.

I dropped the drugs onto the counter, even if my fingers itched to touch them again. “I just think you should look at other options besides the club right now,” Marco said gruffly.

“I need the cash though, man. I mean, I really, really need it. It’ll be a one-time thing. That’s it,” I swore.

Marco laughed bitterly. “Look who you’re talking to, Maxx. You may be able to fool your chick with those words, but not me. I see the hunger on your face. You want it, dude. It’s all over you.”

At the mention of Aubrey I felt a little sick.

Is the quick cash really worth losing her?

I knew the answer immediately.

No.

But I didn’t know what else to do. Marco shook his head and picked up the two bags of drugs. “What are you doing?” I barked.

“Let me take these to the club with me. I’ve got to get over there and help set up. If you come tonight, just find me and I’ll hand ’em over.” He stopped and looked down at the pills, an odd expression on his face.

“And if you don’t, I’ll give ’em back to Gash, no harm, no foul.”

“He’ll get pissed, Marco, you know that,” I argued.

Marco dropped the bags into his satchel and shrugged.

“I can deal with Gash.” He really was in a weird mood tonight.

For an instant I had the violent urge to tackle him and take the drugs back. They’re mine! the dark voice snarled inside of me.

But I forced myself to ignore the self-destructive whispers.

“Yeah. That’s cool,” I agreed.

Marco started heading to the door and then turned around to look at me again. “Dude, I really hope I don’t see you tonight.”

And then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a bang.

What the fuck?

I hadn’t expected Marco of all people to give me a way out. I just didn’t know if I really wanted to take it.