“We’re going to die?” Brando asked. I could hear their voices as they argued over possession of the phone and dying.
“Guys, Raleigh, Brando,” I shouted.
“Yo,” Raleigh said.
“Can you tell me where you are in the club?”
“By the bar. By one of the bars.”
“By one of the bars?” I repeated.
Laurel huffed and parked on the street in front of Club Plastics. Duarte, Michelson, and three plainclothes cops were waiting for us. A couple of cruisers waited across the street. The detectives put their heads together and started planning. I got to listen to half of Raleigh and Brando’s argument. Nate jogged up.
“What’s going on?” Nate whispered to me.
“Alyssa is inside. So are Raleigh and Brando and they took fentanyl. And probably quite a few other drugs.”
“Super.”
I looked up at the facade of the building. It was two stories high. The front of the building was barely tinted glass. On the bottom floor, you could only see movement and bright lights. Up top, people danced against the glass.
“Cash.” Laurel waved me over. “Do you have a picture of Raleigh and Brando?”
I covered the mouthpiece on my phone. “No, but I can get one.” Laurel looked at me like I was crazy. I uncovered the mouthpiece. “Raleigh, can you send me a selfie?”
“Hell yeah. We look dope.” Two minutes later, my phone vibrated. I clicked open the image. They didn’t look dope. They looked tired and high. I texted it to Laurel. She nodded in thanks. She and Michelson continued giving orders. An ambulance parked behind the cruisers across the street.
Laurel waved Nate over to join us. “Okay, we are all going to fan out. Everyone knows what the perp looks like. Everyone knows what the vics look like. There are probably other potential vics so watch for symptoms of fentanyl overdose.”
“What are the symptoms?” Nate asked.
“I just texted both of you a list,” Laurel said.
Nate pulled out his phone and showed me the screen. It was basically a list of every overdose symptom: confusion, poor circulation, difficulty walking and talking, drowsiness, seizure. At the bottom of the list, the final symptom was death. I felt like it was a little unnecessary to include that one.
“You two are eyes only,” Michelson said to me and Nate. “We’re including you because you may have contacts we can use. Focus on finding those boys and getting them out.”
I was totally cool with that plan.
We moved en masse toward the entrance. The bouncer tried about ten tactics to keep us out, but he wasn’t much of a match for half a dozen law enforcement officials. Plus, Michelson and Kallen were loudly debating if they should shut the whole club down.
The inside of the club was basically my worst nightmare. People everywhere, deafening music, colorful lights. The cops all fanned out. Nate and I stuck together. There were two bars that I could see, so we aimed for the closer one. I studied faces, but it was difficult to make out features in the low, undulating light. Raleigh still had his horrific mustache, but that was his most identifiable feature. In the photo, Brando was wearing a bright purple shirt with two unicorns fucking. So I was basically just scanning for that.
We walked the length of the bar, looking at faces, watching for obscene mustaches and obscene T-shirts. We worked our way to the bar itself and leaned over to check the people waiting for service. A girl checked out Nate, then checked out me, then checked out Nate again. She motioned at one of the bartenders. He came over. She ordered shots that sounded terrifying. I tried to say no, but then she called me a handsome boy. Nate clapped his hand on my shoulder, thanked her profusely, and downed the neon shot. She smiled. He smiled. It was gross. Just when I’d given up on the foundation of our friendship, Nate pulled out his phone.
“Have you seen these guys?” He showed her the photo of Raleigh and Brando.
“Have I?” Her tone was ambiguous.
“Have you?” Nate tried again.
“They were dancing on a platform a little while ago. They’re like a super cute couple. Are they your friends?” She touched Nate’s bicep.
There were so many strange assumptions in that response. I didn’t know if I was more offended that she thought we might be friends with them or that Raleigh and Brando might actually be one of my people. Queers had standards. They were not up to snuff.
I took a step back and let Nate worry about disentangling himself. From where I stood, there appeared to be seven dancing platforms. Four were high enough that the club could regulate who had access. The other three were a free-for-all. I studied each platform even though I knew they wouldn’t still be there.
“You see them?” Nate shouted by my ear.
“Nope.”
“You want to try the other bar?”
“Yeah. The stairs are over there.” I pointed out the wide, deep staircase that flanked the DJ booth and stage.
We fought through the Friday crowds toward the staircase. I eventually gave up on asserting my dominance and just let Nate lead the way. He grabbed my hand and pulled me in his wake. Security kept the stairs relatively clear of dancers. I couldn’t imagine what a liability that staircase was.
The second floor was no less loud, but marginally less crowded. It was essentially just a very wide balcony that ringed the entire club. The front balcony had that thick glass facing the street. Twenty-something-year-olds jockeyed for a good position to dance at the windows and provide free advertising for the club. I was certain they had no idea that the club was manipulating them, but they seemed pretty stoked for the opportunity. Opposite that, on the back wall, was a second bar. It was smaller and had a handful of tables and stools for the club goer who got tuckered out. Or was too high to stand. Nate scanned the room as he led us toward the bar. Which was how he ran into two guys buying drugs from Alyssa Hirsch.
The guys got angry at having borne the brunt of his bulk, but Alyssa completely, utterly lost it. She started screaming at Nate. I caught two racial slurs, one crack about his masculinity, and one insult to his mother. Nate just stared at her like he couldn’t quite process the hateful tirade he had stumbled into.
I wrestled my phone out of my pocket and texted Laurel, Michelson, Duarte, Nate, and Reyes. The last two weren’t intentional. We just had a group chat and that was how it worked out.
Alyssa upstairs bar.
That basically covered it.
Alyssa saw me staring at her and Nate and turned on me. I got a heterosexist remark, two about my gender presentation, my very own racist joke, and a violent threat.
I was starting to see what Raleigh and Brando had meant about Alyssa being a mean girl. I smiled to myself. Alyssa’s vitriol kind of undermined everything she said. It was difficult to take someone seriously when their hate was so indiscriminate.
Alyssa didn’t like it when I smiled. She stepped forward and grabbed my T-shirt. I tried to back away, but she pulled me closer and started screaming at me.
Laurel sprinted up the stairs with one of the plainclothes guys I didn’t know. Alyssa’s diatribe had cleared a nice little space in front of the bar. Laurel stepped into that space. There was a comfort in having Laurel so close. She wouldn’t let Alyssa hurt anyone else.
“Alyssa Hirsch, you’re under arrest. Let go of her. Keep your hands where we can see them.” Kallen and the plainclothes guy slowly approached.
I saw movement behind Alyssa. Michelson was creeping behind the now empty bar to get in position at Alyssa’s rear. Nate was about two feet to her right. He took a careful step away from her. I mimicked the movement, but Alyssa tightened her grip in my shirt.
“No.” Alyssa reached back just like her brother had done.
“Gun,” I shouted. Which was not a great thing to shout in a crowded club, but that was what I did. I frantically twisted away from Alyssa, but she put the gun to my temple. It was not a great feeling.
Kallen, plainclothes, and Michelson all lunged forwar
d. Probably not the move I would have chosen.
“Stop.” Alyssa turned us enough for them to get the visual of the gun and its proximity to my head.
“Put the gun down. You’re just making this worse for yourself.” Kallen lowered the gun I hadn’t seen her draw, but didn’t holster it.
“She’s not wrong,” I said.
“What the fuck did you say to me?” Alyssa pressed the gun harder.
“Oww, shit. Nothing.” Maybe antagonizing the chick with a gun to my head was a bad idea. Then again, I wasn’t entirely thinking straight. That gun was making me real sweaty and nervous. “Just, you know, she’s not wrong. You’re already fucked.”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch.” She pulled the gun back like she was going to pistol whip me.
I ducked. Nate coldcocked Alyssa. She went down.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I disentangled myself from Alyssa and stumbled backward. Nate grabbed my arm and hauled me upright.
Nate smiled. “That was really satisfying.”
I laughed and tried to pretend I wasn’t shaking. Kallen put cuffs on an unconscious Alyssa. She searched her thoroughly. There was the gun. There was also a fuckload of black pills. Michelson bagged each piece of evidence as Kallen pulled it off of her. A couple of uniforms joined the fray. The last officer to arrive was Duarte. He sidled up to me.
“I missed the action, didn’t I?” he asked sadly.
“I was in the middle of the action. Be glad you missed it.” I shrugged.
“Yeah, I guess.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. “I got your friends out.”
“Huh?”
“Raleigh and Brando. Brando was exhibiting quite a few overdose signs. Both of them are on their way to the hospital, just to be safe.”
“Oh, great. Thanks.” I nodded. They weren’t my friends, but Duarte clearly wanted to impress me so I let him have it.
“I also found two girls in the bathroom who showed signs of overdose. The EMTs are loading them up right now.” He shrugged like he was embarrassed.
“Was one of them named Becca?”
He looked hopeful at being able to answer a question. “Rebecca according to her ID.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “That’s some quality work.”
“Is it? I feel like I’m just cleaning up. Not catching bad guys.”
“But you probably saved four people’s lives tonight.”
He brightened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks.” Duarte shook my hand, then made his way over to Kallen.
I looked around for Nate. He was sitting at the bar, drinking a beer, with ice on his hand. I sat next to him.
“This is a twelve-dollar beer.” Nate held up the bottle of Sierra Nevada. “The Coors were only eight, but I deserve a fucking twelve-dollar beer.”
“You’re goddamn right you do.” I looked behind the bar, but no one was there. I knew I shouldn’t have shouted gun. “How did you procure this twelve-dollar beer?”
“I went behind the bar and rang myself up. But I got to tell you, I am a lousy tipper. Who knew?” Nate grinned at me.
“I think that’s fair. I feel like the bartender really didn’t earn your tip.” I followed Nate’s instructions and got my own twelve-dollar beer.
“You cool?”
I shrugged. “I’m alive.”
“This has been a night.”
We both nodded. It had been a night.
The cops waded through a lot of tedious procedure after Alyssa had been taken away. We watched for quite some time before Laurel made her way over to Nate and me.
“I think I owe you, Xiao,” she said.
“You totally owe me.” Nate lightly punched her shoulder. “But if I’m being completely honest, I would absolutely do that again. I’m a pacifist like Cash, but punching that chick was deeply fulfilling.”
“It looked deeply fulfilling.” Laurel nodded.
“You deserve a reward. Would you like some twelve-dollar beer?” Nate held out the bottle.
Laurel laughed. “I really would. But I’m on shift until we wrap all this up. I wanted to tell you there’s a uniform waiting to take you home.”
“I drove here. I can take Cash home.” Nate took a final swig and set his half consumed beer on the bar. “Oh, and I’ve had approximately one drink and a half in the last two hours, Detective Kallen. I’m quite certain of my ability to drive safely.”
Laurel laughed. “Okay, I’ll let them know not to expect you.”
Nate headed for the stairs. I turned to Laurel.
“Are you okay?” she asked. I nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t check earlier.”
“No worries. I’m fine.”
“Good. That’s good.” She reached out like she was going to touch me, but stopped herself at the last moment.
“You doing all right?”
She smiled halfway. “Yeah. It’s the best-case scenario.”
“Don’t work too late.”
Her smile widened. “I’ll try not to.”
*****
Laurel wasn’t home. I’d known she wouldn’t be. It was after three in the morning. But I’d hoped that her duty would be done so I had come anyway. I sat on her porch and stared at the dark door.
Laurel was right. Arresting Tyler and Alyssa was the best-case scenario. It wouldn’t give back what they had taken though. I wondered what I had taken. How many addicts had I fed? I was culpable in too many ways, for too many lives. It was time to tell Nate we needed a way out.
The deep rumble of her truck was audible from blocks away. I didn’t move. There were a thousand reasons for me to run away, to hide, to be paralyzed by indecision. But I finally knew where I stood. I had no way to predict Nate’s behavior or Laurel’s or Clive’s. The law was beyond my comprehension. Morality was perpetually up for debate.
The only thing I knew with any certainty was myself.
Laurel climbed the stairs and I stood.
“Cash?”
“Sorry. I know it’s late.”
“It’s cool. I stopped by the hospital to update Reyes.”
“He doing okay?” I asked.
“He’s bummed he missed Nate punching that chick,” she said. I grinned. “What are you doing here?”
“I needed to see you.”
“Okay.” She leaned against the post holding up the porch and slid her hands in her pockets.
“I still don’t know anything. Not about who I am or who I want to be. I don’t know when I’ll figure that out.” I didn’t approach her. I knew I needed to speak first. “But you don’t need to be afraid that I won’t love you.”
She straightened. Took a step toward me. “Cash.”
“Wait.” I held up my hand. “We need to work a lot out. I know that the middle of the night, in the dark, away from anyone who might actually see us is not the place to declare your love. But I really don’t care.” I shrugged. “So even if we resolve nothing, even if we never have answers, I’m here. With you.”
“We may never sort out this mess.” She grinned.
“I don’t care.”
Laurel nodded once, with finality. She unlocked the door. Then she reached out, took my hand, and led me inside.
About the Author
Ashley Bartlett was born and raised in California. Her life consists of reading, writing, and editing. Most of the time, Ashley engages in these pursuits while sitting in front of a coffee shop with her wife.
It’s a glamorous life.
She is an obnoxious, sarcastic, punk-ass, but her friends don’t hold that against her. She lives in Sacramento, but you can find her at ashbartlett.com.
Books Available from Bold Strokes Books
Change in Time by Robyn Nyx. Working in the past is hell on your future. The Extractor series: Book Two (978-1-62639-880-1)
Love After Hours by Radclyffe. When Gina Antonelli agrees to renovate Carrie Longmire’s new house, she doesn’t welcome Carrie’s overtures at friendship or her
own unexpected attraction. A Rivers Community Novel. (978-1-63555-090-0)
Nantucket Rose by CF Frizzell. Maggie Jordan can’t wait to convert an historic Nantucket home into a B&B, but doesn’t expect to fall for mariner Ellis Chilton, who has more claim to the house than Maggie realizes. (978-1-63555-056-6)
Picture Perfect by Lisa Moreau. Falling in love wasn’t supposed to be part of the stakes for Olive and Gabby, rival photographers in the competition of a lifetime. (978-1-62639-975-4)
Set the Stage by Karis Walsh. Actress Emilie Danvers takes the stage again in Ashland, Oregon, little realizing that landscaper Arden Philips is about to offer her a very personal romantic lead role. (978-1-63555-087-0)
Strike a Match by Fiona Riley. When their attempts at matchmaking fizzle out, firefighter Sasha and reluctant millionairess Abby find themselves turning to each other to strike a perfect match. (978-1-62639-999-0)
The Price of Cash by Ashley Bartlett. Cash Braddock is doing her best to keep her business afloat, stay out of jail, and avoid Detective Kallen. It’s not working. (978-1-62639-708-8)
Under Her Wing by Ronica Black. At Angel’s Wings Rescue, dogs are usually the ones saved, but when quiet Kassandra Haden meets outspoken owner Jayden Beaumont, the two stubborn women just might end up saving each other. (978-1-63555-077-1)
Underwater Vibes by Mickey Brent. When Hélène, a translator in Brussels, Belgium, meets Sylvie, a young Greek photographer and swim coach, unsettling feelings hijack Hélène’s mind and body—even her poems. (978-1-63555-002-3)
A More Perfect Union by Carsen Taite. Major Zoey Granger and DC fixer Rook Daniels risk their reputations for a chance at true love while dealing with a scandal that threatens to rock the military. (978-1-62639-754-5)
Arrival by Gun Brooke. The spaceship Pathfinder reaches its passengers’ new homeworld where danger lurks in the shadows while Pamas Seclan disembarks and finds unexpected love in young science genius Darmiya Do Voy. (978-1-62639-859-7)
The Price of Cash Page 26
