Page 9 of Leather & Lace

After I was taken away, I lived in and out of foster hellholes, running the streets to keep clothes on my back and food in my mouth. If there is one thing life has taught me, it’s you fucking make it or you die. Nothing in between. Maybe that’s why I chose the profession I’m in. I know everything there is to know about cannabis. The healing properties of it.

The proper way to care and grow it. It’s truly nature’s medicine to the world. The dark memories I have of my childhood may not have torn me down financially, but they definitely left deep wounds that still seep toxic black blood into my soul. The demons they created still harbor and live in the depths, awaiting release.

This is one of the reasons why I refuse to get attached to anyone. I never cared to settle down or give into emotions. It’s just sex for me. A body to use and get a quick release. Ashley would have been the closest thing to a regular girlfriend because she is all I have been spending my nights with when I need that physical release.

I know I have nothing there but sexual lust for her and I know I should probably cut it off, but I am a selfish bastard who is too addicted to what her pussy gives my cock. I know she also doesn’t deserve that, but she just keeps coming back.

I will not open my blackened heart to any woman. My worthless mother taught me that, plus I don’t think I would be deserving of any good-hearted partner. I just don’t have that in me. That part of me is forever broken and the pieces of my remaining heart have been shattered in the wind.

My northern weed production is posted just a couple towns over. Two beautiful acres of nothing but lush green leaves, a large greenhouse centered right in the middle. It’s one of my favorite places to visit. Just show up and start working. Check in on the nursery and make sure all workers are handling the product carefully. I truly love my job. Not too many people can attest to that.

“Bro. Eli!” Dane shouts at me, breaking my thoughts as I pour myself some coffee.

“What?” I ask in an agitated tone.

“Did you hear a word I just said?” Getting up, he walks over to me.

“Yeah, the party, I know. Do we have the bud ready?” I ask as I take a sip of the black coffee. It’s so hot it burns as it slides down my throat, reminding me of the first time I had that hot coco. So yeah, I also sell cannabis for extra cash on the side at my parties. It’s good though, I keep the local police department’s pockets lined with large cash donations yearly.

Pretty ironic if you think about it. Gotta fucking love dirty cops. I have an offshore bank account set up in Switzerland for all the side money we make that is not connected to my actual legal business income. I have millions in those banks as well.

“Yup, we have about twenty pounds ready. Should equal out to about forty grand. Those rich college kids will use mommy and daddy’s money to buy it all up,” he says, laughing while washing off his plate.

“Good. Just make sure we have everything ready. Make sure nobody is carrying more than a pound on them at a time. We don’t want any of those fuckers trying to jump one of us.” I grabbed my black handgun out of the drawer next to me and set it on the counter.

“You make sure everyone that sells tonight is packing. And code names only.” Giving me a quick nod, he grabs his phone and heads out of the kitchen. Dane and I do not do the dealing. We can’t risk someone trying to expose us. So, we have hired men and women who get a nice cut of whatever they sell during the parties. Twenty percent.

Dane has always been a good buddy of mine. He was the first guy I met in this town when I was seventeen, running the streets with a low-life gang. We both had ties with the gang until we were twenty years old and decided it was time to break free. We made a deal with the DEA to set up Jasper Heathen and the crew to avoid prison time.

They had loads of evidence surrounding Dane and I for selling drugs. If it meant selling out Jasper to have freedom, then there wasn’t even a second thought about it.Before Dane and I left the crew, we stole a hundred grand from Jasper's safe. At the time, we believed we deserved it. All the shit he made us do and put up with was well worth the money we took.

They had multiple documents and evidence to convict him but could never catch him. Once we set up the undercoveragent for a meeting with Jasper, acting like he was a buyer interested in Jasper's product, they busted him onsite. Last I heard he spent over three million to get bail, then fled the country that same day with a fake passport and cutting off the ankle bracelet. By the time the DEA had time to react, he was already gone. A ghost in the night.

When Dane and I started our company up, I became the CEO since it was my portion of the money I stole from Jasper and invested it in, but Dane was the mastermind when it came to technology and marketing. The social media pages Dane ran is what boosted our company to be noticed by the bigger corporations. Together, we make an unstoppable team. I got my business license and it was all business after that.

The Heathens used to run this town, but once Dane and I sold out Jasper, and signed with the big companies to produce cannabis, the gang quickly started to dissipate. Cannabis was taking over. Large numbers of his crew either left town or were caught and thrown into prison after Jasper fled the country.

Dane is also from the foster care system. His mother was a sex worker that would sell her body for crack. Lived in a rundown hotel room in Sacramento with her abusive drugged-up pimp. He would lock six-year-old Dane into the bathroom whenever her customers would pay her a visit, sometimes for days. Even through all the abuse, he loved his mama dearly.

Always trying to protect her from the monsters that lurked outside of the door. He was taken into foster care when he was about eleven. He doesn’t open up much about the darkness of his past, which honestly, I understand. I chose to lock those demons far down into the pits of my own hell and keep them locked up until the day I finally leave this fucked world. Dragging them with me back to the depths of hell where we both belong.

Surprisingly, Dane is more open to love. More open to relationships but has failed every time with the long-term side of it. He usually always has some random girl at his side, that merely only lasts for a few weeks, then he is on to the next, as if he is searching for the perfect one. In those ways, I do wish a part of me were more like him. But I know it’s just not in my cards. Not in this fucked up life. My one true love is money, and boy does she sure smell good.

“Chase,” I called over from across the room. Jumping up, he heads to me. “I need you and Dane to head to the campus today. There are going to be a lot of new students there that we can get to become regular buyers. Make sure to bring a lot of females.” He nods in understanding. Giving him a sly smile I say, “Just lighten up bro. I know you are still new to this life, but you need to learn to enjoy yourself more. Get more pussy, it’s good for the soul.” I give him a quick wink then turn to leave the kitchen.

Chase has always been the golden boy for his parents. Always expected to graduate with honors, lead the football team into victory kind of shit. His dad lost his job due to embezzlement and is now serving time at the local prison, and his mother has turned to the bottle while living at her mother’s house. His family lost everything. Every fucking embezzled dime.

The once well-set-up trust fund baby now has nothing. Dane brought him to me a few months back to see if I could help him make money. To be able to afford his college tuition and living expenses.

I could tell he was green from the moment I laid my eyes on him. After a heated debate with Dane about how I am not a handout and I don’t take in strays, I listened to Dane's reasoning. I decided to give the kid a shot. So far, it’s looking like it’s going to bite me in the fucking ass. He knows fuck all whenit comes to the type of work that we do but everyone deserves at least one shot. He better not blow his. I don’t do second chances.

“I will head out with Dane and help bring in some buyers.” He gives me a faint smile, then turns and leaves the room.

I headed back upstairs to my room to finish getting myself ready. I threw on my black tank top and ripped jeans. Looking in the mirror, I zone out for what seems to be hours. My thoughts always have me getting lost in them. I just turned twenty-five on March 22nd. Dane is also twenty-five, his birthday is just a couple days after mine. We would throw a combined rager for our birthdays that pretty much lasted the entire month. So many good, distorted memories.

Age is a fickle bitch. Every birthday seems to be coming quicker and quicker than the next. I do not fear death or old age, I fear the now. I keep my demons mainly at bay but every so often, I can start to feel them slowly dig their sharp claws into my mind and try to drag me to the depths below.

I sometimes suffer from manic episodes when my emotions are heightened out of anger. I go into rage fits when I lose control and literally black out. Dane usually is the one who can pull me out of them, but most of the time, I must come down by myself. Just another reason why I do not deserve to be loved. Who would want a monster like me?

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