Page 10 of Filthy Little Secret

He wraps an arm around me like I’m one of his sluts and guides me through the crowd, into the house. When we reach his bedroom, he shuts the door behind him.

“What you need?”

“Some coke, weed, hydrocodone. A little K wouldn’t kill me.”

He opens his closet and squats. Rolls of fat fold over the speedo. He unlocks a metal safe, and I give him cash for enough supplies to last me the rest of the week.

“Not exactly making money hand over fist this year, are we?” he says as I unzip my backpack and set it down beside him. He counts my money before passing me bags from the safe. I stuff the load into my bag. “Damn, this is turning out to be a shit year. Bunch of brats are more interested in scripts they can get from overseas pharmas than any of the regular shit. This was a lot easier five years ago.”

I’m making less than half as much as I was two years ago, so I know what he means, but at least it helps us get by.

“How’s your nanna, by the way?” he asks.

“Good. She doesn’t get CT scans for another month, but she’s recovered pretty well since the chemo.”

She was diagnosed last winter, and we fought through the spring with chemo and radiation. She’s just now able to get around after spending two months healing from the lingering effects of the intensive chemo regime she was on.

“Good to hear, good to hear, but I bet those bills are a real pain.”

“Yes, they are. Not something I need to be reminded of. I see them every fucking day.”

“Any scripts you need more of?” he asks as he inspects his stash.

“It wouldn’t kill me to have some extra Xanax and Adderall.”

“Of course not. I got some Provigil in here, too, so I’m going to load you up with that. You’re pitching it as the new Adderall, right? Best study drug on the market.”

“Of course.”

“Another thing they can nab online, though. How about I slide in a little bit of crystal and H?” he asks with a wink.

“Fuck you, Jesse. You know how I feel about that.”

“Dude, the money on this kid shit might get you by, but you do a few runs for me with some of the heavier stuff, and you can be making more than enough to deal with those hospital bills.”

“Not interested.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Market’s tougher than ever. Kids can get some e-pharmacy to get them these scripts. Can find someone else for weed or coke. They’re like the Advil of drugs. Makes our job that much harder. The drugs I’m talking about are the most lucrative right now. Things that aren’t getting tapped out in the market. You know that’s why Roy moved to California.”

Roy was the guy who got me into the business. Left two years ago, and he was smart to do it because that’s when things started going south with our usual circuit. Not to say there aren’t guys who’ll still pay for what I got. It’s just not the same.

“I’ll let you know when I need the money that bad, okay?”

“Fair enough, bud. I think you got a pretty good bit for now. Should last you through the night.” His eyes sparkle as he offers an amused expression. In this market, it’ll last me the week, and he knows it. I’m not big-time. Always done what I need so I can pay the bills, but even now, it’s a struggle. Not horrible, but I’m used to a higher demand with my small niche of clientele.

“I’m just trying to get you in on a good game,” he says. “You know, David got arrested over in Buckhead for a DUI, so I have an opening for someone to run if you’re interested. Need someone I trust. And come on, don’t act like you couldn’t use a little break from those Emory asshats.”

“I can live with them. They’re manageable.”

I know for a fact some of these big guns Jesse works with are into some serious shit—gangs and prostitution—shit I’d rather keep out of.

“I’m not dying over here,” I say.

“I’ll bet,” he says with a smirk.

I head out to start working my beat. The usual frat houses. I don’t take on a lot of new customers. Work off referrals who are real desperate. I’m not interested in noobs who could end up ratting me out. If someone wants to get some for a friend, that’s on them, but I play it safe. I’ve heard too many stories, and I’m not interested in waking up in a jail cell, waiting to get five to life. I’ve learned from the other guys I’ve worked with over the years that it’s when you start getting greedy that you get careless and wind up having the ATF knock your door in.

After I finish up with the frats, I move on to some of my other stops—a couple of kids with way too much money and their own network of interested parties.

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