Quick Cuts went out of business years ago. We left the vintage sign up but spray painted out the phone number, as it was no longer in service. Kaz drew some festive Valentine doodles on the glass panes for fun a few days ago. The cartoon heart was cute. It was cool to see him draw something that wasn’t so eerie or sad.
I pulled out my key to the old building and stepped inside the lobby. Just like at the hideout, nobody bothered to tidy up. Cigarette butts and candy wrappers scattered across the floor. Magazines laid everywhere except the shelf they belonged in. The trash can was full, so people resorted to throwing their crap in the floor beside it. Who the hell brought cake to their drug dealer’s place and left half in the floor?
People could be disgusting. It didn’t help how no one else had the wit’s about them to clean the place up. They could’ve taken out the trash and picked up the damn magazines. Kaz could’ve done something too instead of paint the stupid windows.
After grabbing some latex gloves and another garbage bag from the office, I got to work cleaning the lobby. I sprayed some Lysol on the furniture too. A lot of the magazines had pages missing, but I stuffed them in the shelf they belonged anyway.
“You doing okay?” Kaz asked.
I sighed. “Yeah, I’m good. I just wish y’all kept better care of things around here.”
“Sorry.” He looked down at his scruffy black and white converse. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t get this bad again. Let me help out. I can take the trash out back in the dump for you.”
“No need to apologize, Kaz. I appreciate you helping me clean up.” I handed him the trash bag.
“So, um, have you found any new leads on the person who tried to kill you?” Kaz asked. “I know Emmett’s been looking into it, but has Adam found anything?”
“There’s this kid that started coming around and snapping photos of my house,” I told him. “Chris found him, his name’s James. A woman who he called a witch paid him to do that. She’s weird, all dressed in black with long black hair. Then… she showed up at my house in the middle of the night.”
Kaz’s eyes widened. “Oh shit. For real?”
I nodded, grimacing at the memory. “She killed all my stray cats.”
“What the hell? Everly, I’m so sorry.”
“I’ll kill the bitch for it. I swear, I will.”
“If there’s anything I can do, I’ll gladly help,” Kaz said. “I know it must be painful for you to stay strong after everything’s happened. I think you’re really brave. I’m not sure I could do what you’re doing and not fall apart.”
“Thanks, Kaz. That means a lot. Can I ask you something personal?”
He furrowed his brows. “What?”
“Do you ever dream about getting clean and getting out of the gang?”
“I don’t dream much anymore. So I guess not.” Kaz shrugged.
“What do you mean?” I asked him, frowning. “Are you not sleeping?”
“Not much. I stay up for days then my body crashes and forces me to sleep. I rarely dream of anything when that happens. I wake up and everything’s kinda blurry,” he replied. “Once, I woke up in the bathtub, but that was before I moved in with Emmett. He makes sure I don’t do that.”
“Kaz, that’s not good. It can’t be healthy. You must be taking too much coke. You need to be careful.”
“I know. But I haven’t overdosed in a couple months now, so I can’t be doing that bad.” Kaz forced a grin. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got enough going on.”
“You need to get your heart rate and blood pressure checked out,” I told him. “I have a monitor in here, so I can check it for you. Just come sit down.”
“Thanks for offering, but I’m fine. Honestly. Besides, we have business to worry about,” Kaz replied. “Maybe another time, okay? I need to go take this trash out back.”
I sighed. Kaz could be just as stubborn as Emmett sometimes. “Okay. It better be soon.”
Kaz nodded. “I’ll make sure I do that.”
While Kaz took out the trash, I made my way into my own little personal office. I got my tablet out, courtesy of Emmett, and skimmed through our list of drug clients. It didn’t take me long to find Mrs. Nelson on our list, as her real name was marked down. Probably by Emmett. Apparently, she used a false name for her drugs. Taylor Williams. We let clients provide us with fake names to feel more comfortable, but Emmett always looked deeper into things to find out their true identity, just to ensure we weren’t messing with narcs.
Mrs. Nelson latest purchase was some of that new drug on the market. Cupid’s Jizz. How strange. I didn’t expect her to buy something like that. She wasn’t a regular drug buyer either. Just started coming around a few weeks ago. I wonder why.
For the next few hours, we got a few of our regular clients. I stayed in my own office for most the day going over our inventory report. We didn’t deal with aggressive or hard criminals at the hair salon. Sometimes we had loonies but nothing too extreme. Alfie handled the door, where he ensured nobody had any deadly weapons on them. After they were checked, he sent them back to either me or Kaz.
While munching on a chocolate bar from the stash in my office, I texted Adam. He couldn’t respond back immediately, but he checked up on me and made sure I was doing well.
My office door creaked open as I sent Adam a text back that I loved him and to stay safe the rest of his shift. I looked up at the two teenagers who walked inside. The young woman stayed behind her boyfriend, holding his hand as she looked around nervously. They both wore New Syracuse County High hoodies.
“You kids lost?” I asked.
The young man cleared his voice. “This is where we get… Heroin. Right?”
They were both ghastly pale, even for winter, and their eyes were bloodshot. The poor things almost looked like walking corpses. The girl trembled, clearly dealing with withdrawal worse than her boyfriend. She blew her nose in a sticky tissue.
“Do your parents know you’re here?” I asked them.
“Come on, lady. I got money. Ain’t that all you dealers care about?” he asked as he shoved his wallet at me.
“You should try to get help,” I said. “Are you guys shooting, snorting, or–”
The guy coughed before replying, “Shooting, but she snorts it.”
I unlocked my bottom desk drawer and pulled out a handful of clean needles. “Take these with you. After that, look into getting help. I know it seems impossible now, but you have a better chance at saving yourself if you try now.”
They ignored me and hurried across the room to Kaz’s office like giddy little kids to the toy section. Kaz took care of the Heroin and Opioids clients while I handled those who wanted Coke, Meth, or Molly. It broke my heart to watch teens like them come in. They had their whole lives ahead of them, and they tossed it all away for drugs. But wasn’t I doing the same thing? Despite touching none of the drugs, it still controlled me and kept me someplace I didn’t belong.
We received an unexpected visitor a few minutes before Adam planned to take me out for lunch. My office door creaked open again and a foul stench swept across the room. The young man who staggered inside almost tripped over the carpet as plopped down on the chair across from me. He wore an oversized blue bomber jacket with the hood pulled over his head.
The man scratched at his beard before reaching into his pocket. He retrieved crisp twenty dollar bills and handed them over to me. I noticed a scorpion tattoo on his hand as I accepted his money, gaping in shock. I almost didn’t recognize the poor guy.
“Archie, where the hell have you been?”
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