Page 17 of A Scandal in Homeroom
WTF?
“You’re kidding,” I said.
“What? Parents get bored, too.”
“We invite the wrong person and this whole thing gets shut down.”
Coyle shrugged. “Leave that to him.”
“No,” I said. “I’m not doing this. Do your own adult game. Let Moriarty work the invites and the door himself.”
Coyle laughed and the sound was awful. Like he was devoid of mirth and humor.
“Clue in, Adler. Moriarty found your game and made it his. Madeyouhis. You had a choice and you made it. There is no out. You do what he says until he decides to shut things down.”
Did I believe that? Was I trapped?
“I have a hard enough time sneaking out of my foster home. How the hell am I going to do that two nights in a row? Not to mention when the fuck am I going to sleep?”
“Not my problem. Sleep? Really? That’s your concern. You’re bringing home, what? A thousand? Sometimes almost two K a night, and you’re talking to me about sleep? This is a fucking dream job, and you should be down on your knees in gratitude.”
Shit. He was right. The money was too good. If I was taking my thirty percent plus tips two nights a week instead of one? I did the math in my head, which was a mistake because it made it really hard to walk away. Harder still not to embrace the risk.
“In fact, why don’t you?”
I wasn’t paying attention to Coyle. I was thinking what my account balance might be after a year.
“What? You think you’re too good for me?” he asked.
I turned my attention back to Coyle. “What?”
He leaned in close, but not close enough I could make solid contact with my fist. He must have learned his lesson from last time.
“I said, I want you to get on your knees and suck my dick.”
“Tempting. But I’ll pass.”
“You think I can’t make you do it?”
He was testing me. Testing his power over me. He had none.
“No, I don’t.” I stepped closer to prove I wouldn’t be threatened. Not by someone like him. “Take a look at the room. Table six. That’s Chas Bingley. I scream help and he’ll come running so fast it will make your head spin. We both know he’s strong enough to smash in your pock-marked face twice over. Remember, this goes two ways, Coyle. Because if my choice is between some time in juvie detention or sucking your dick, I will confess everything to Captain Hartley immediately. How would Mr. Moriarty feel if I gave you and the game up becauseyoucouldn’t keep it in your pants?”
“Bitch,” he spat. “Wouldn’t want your skanky mouth near me anyway. Word is you suck dick for money.”
I tilted my head. “Coyle, you know how I make my money. So now you can tell everyone you know, I suck dick because I love it. Just not yours. Why don’t you ask the girls if we’re running low on any bottles?”
He trotted down the stairs in defeat, but it didn’t stop me from wondering if I might have gotten into something over my head.
* * *
Early Sunday Morning
Locke
I couldn’t sleep.Not a new phenomenon for me. Sleep, without some form of aid, was a rarity. My mind was always too restless, which is why I vaped CBD oil as much as I did. I found it had a calming effect on my brain, which often made me feel more…human.
No doubt why people assumed I might deal drugs, as I had no qualms about using them. Any of them. Everything for me was an experiment on the brain. What it could unlock in the right combinations.
