Page 1 of One Hell of a Deal

Chapter One: Max

I should be crying. After all, I was his best friend. The truth is, we were more like brothers. We were so young when we met that I don’t even remember the day. But Garrett Banks has always been the only constant in my life, so it would only make sense for me to shed buckets of tears at his funeral. But I can’t.

When I glance over at his Cassandra, his gorgeous new, and quite pregnant wife, I’m too preoccupied with the odd circumstances of his death to feel anything other than bewildered curiosity. Of course, I am angry too. But that’s an emotion I am well-practiced at burying.

The church is packed, everyone in their suits and dark dresses, almost all of whom are Garrett’s business associates. Other than Cassandra, I doubt anyone here knew him or loved him, like I did. His mother did, but she chose not to come to the service. It was all too much for her, and although I think I understand, her absence makes me sad. Just not sad enough to cry.

As the minister drones on and on about Garrett’s accomplishments, I drift away. My mind replays the night before his wedding on a constant loop.

We were both a little drunk. The evening had been jam-packed with a formal rehearsal dinner where we all downed a lot of expensive wine, followed by a smaller group of us guys hopping around from bar to bar for several hours to celebrate his last night as a free agent.

We behaved ourselves, which I found a little disappointing. Maybe as the designated best man, I should have ordered a stripper-gram to show up in his penthouse, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I’ve always thought the whole bachelor party thing was borderline disgusting.

He didn’t seem to mind the fully clothed conclusion to the evening. At least he never complained. It was around two in the morning when the last guests stumbled out, leaving the two of us on the balcony, finishing our cigars.

My buzz was finally subsiding, and I stared out over the New York City skyline, in awe of how far we had both come. “Can you believe all of this?”

He snorts and puts out the cigar in his whisky glass and nods. “We’re definitely a long way from the Sliver.”

Our old trailer park, crammed between two state highways and smack in the middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania, was a hell I was glad to escape. “Thanks to you. I was military-bound when you offered me the job. I owe you everything.”

“It’s a shame it all comes with such a high price tag.” He runs a hand through his dark mop of hair, and his brow is furrowed.

“What do you mean, man?” I say with a chuckle. “You are about to marry an absolute gem. She’s a damn ten in every way, man. You live in one of the best penthouses in the city, and are president of a billion-dollar marketing firm, and you aren’t even thirty years old. Your life seems damn good to me. What am I missing? Are you having cold feet?”

“She’s pregnant, you know,” he says in a low voice. I’m taken aback by his lack of joy in the announcement. He’s always said that he wanted to have children. He wanted to give kids a stable family that he never had. “We found out a few weeks ago.”

“That’s amazing, Garrett. Congratulations.”

He turns to face me, and his eyes are stretched wide, and he’s wringing his hands. I’ve never seen him so unraveled, and I find it confusing. “It’s not, though.”

“What?” I say, searching his face for any clue as to what he’s working through. “You are having a child with your new wife. You get to have your perfect family that you always wanted. How can you say that isn’t amazing?”

“Because I won’t live long enough to see him born.”

Without intention, a laugh erupts nervously from me. He’s going through something. I figure it must be the booze, but I’m not too concerned. He’s being crazy, but as his best friend, I’m determined to get to the bottom of this. “I think you are out of your mind, man. You look as healthy as a damn ox to me. Is there a hitman after you that I need to know about?”

He doesn’t answer, but starts to pace, wringing his hands maniacally. His silence is beginning to freak me out. “Garrett? Answer me. What aren’t you telling me?”

He stops pacing a couple of feet in front of me and stares into my eyes. I don’t remember him ever looking so serious. He opens and shuts his mouth several times before he starts speaking. “What I am about to tell you sounds unbelievable, but I promise it’s the one hundred percent truth, and you need to believe me.”

He has never lied to me before, which I am aware of, so I nod, intrigued by this madness. “Go on.”

He takes a deep breath, rambling as he exhales. “Almost ten years ago, on the graduation trip that you couldn’t go on because you had the flu, I made a deal with a crossroads demon. All of this,” he says, flailing his arms and spinning in a wobbly circle, “was in exchange for my soul.”

I think he may need to see a doctor. “I think perhaps you’ve had a bit too much to drink tonight, buddy. We really should be getting you inside and…

“I’m not fucking lying Max!” His shouting startles me. He’s not one to yell. Ever. “Now listen to me. This is important.”

Unsure of what else to do, I deflate. “I’m listening.” I’m scared for his mental health, but at the very least, this should be entertaining. He waves me inside, and I follow him to the living room in silence, taking a seat across from him. He looks so tired. Worn.

“Now I get how ridiculous this all sounds. Really, I do. But I need you to know, and I’m going to need you to promise me something too.”

“Let’s hear the story first,” I say, fighting to remove any trace of condescension from my voice. I owe him that at least.

“We never should have stopped in Jackson,” he groans. “But we had been driving for so long and needed a break. We planned to hit the road early and be to New Orleans by noon. We pulled into the city around midnight, and Frank had the brilliant idea to try out our fake IDs before finding a room for the night. We drove around for a while, eventually settling on a little hole-in-the-wall called Marlow’s Place. It was dark and in the shadier part of the city, but for whatever reason, we all thought our greatest odds of success would be there.”

“Did they serve you?”

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