When I first started dealing, I was small-time. Dealt what I could, when I could, to whomever I could. Mostly ecstasy to college kids, weed to college dropouts. Once I realized that wasn't where the money or the power was, I started studying.
There was a full year right around the time I started college that I studied every minute of every day. And I'm not talking the bullshit textbook studying that lands you a full-time desk job making enough salary a year to buy one house, one car, and one wife. I'm talking real studying. Meeting people. Becoming the person people want to meet. Sampling the good shit, the heroin, the coke, just to get a feel of what kind of drug fits better with which demographic. Knowing how to not get addicted to the shit. Getting to know your dealer so well that you become best friends with your dealer's dealer. Building trust in whoever has more power than you, but lying low enough that they don't see it coming when you've suddenly got more power than them.
I learned a lot and I learned it the hard way. The right way. From the bottom to the top.
I don't deal the petty shit now: X, weed, pills. I especially don't fuck with weed. It's an excess. You want weed? Move to fucking Colorado and buy yourself a gift card to the sweet shop. Don't waste my fucking time.
But if you want the good stuff...the shit that makes you feel like you're kissing the face of the goddamn Creator himself? That's when you come to me. I won't sell you the Ford, but I'll sell you the rarest fucking Bugatti you'll ever come across.
I'm still building. I'll always be building. The second someone in my position feels like they have nothing else to learn is the same second they'll be surpassed by the next guy. As far as I'm concerned, there are no more available spots above Asa Jackson in this city. I have a good team beneath me. Guys who know their places. Guys who know I'll be fair to them if they're fair to me.
I'm still getting to know my newest guy, Carter. Most people are transparent, but he's like a muddy fucking river. Most people, especially the ones who work for me, kiss my ass because they know what a fucking good thing it is to be able to fit inside my back pocket.
Carter is different. He doesn't seem to care one way or another. It's his indifference that unnerves me. He reminds me of myself a little, and I'm not so sure that's a good thing. There's only room for one me.
My oldest guy, Jon, is really beginning to get sloppy. He was once my right-hand man, but lately he's become my fucking Achilles' heel.
Which brings me back to my initial point.
If it doesn't benefit you, it shouldn't fucking matter to you.
I'm struggling to see how Jon benefits me anymore. He seems to just stir up bullshit wherever he goes. Last week he lost one of my biggest clients because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants when it came to the guy's wife. Even I know how to draw the line between my dick and my wallet.
Unlike Jon, Carter is a benefit. He's a good translator, he's quiet, he shows up where he needs to be and does what I need him to do. Which is the only reason I haven't gotten rid of him yet, despite my suspicions about him. He's not excess yet.
Jon, though. Jon is becoming dead weight.
But Jon also knows too much, which poses an even bigger problem.
For Jon. Not for me.
Aside from the business, I've cut all the other excess out of my life. Other than Sloan. She's far from excess, though. If I had to compare her to a drug, Sloan would be heroin. Heroin is nice. Heroin makes you mellow. As long as you have it in good supply, heroin would be something you could happily inject every day for the rest of your life.
Maybe it's weird to compare people to drugs, but when drugs are all you know, it's normal.
Jon would be meth. He's way too cocky, talks too much, painful at times. Real fucking painful.
Dalton would be coke. Sociable, friendly, makes you want to do more coke. I like coke.
Carter would be...
What would Carter be?
I don't think I know Carter well enough to know which drug he resembles. But for about two minutes last night when I thought Sloan said his goddamn name, Carter was the motherfucking overdose.
But she didn't say his name. She's never even spoken to the guy as far as I know. And if he's smart, that means he's never spoken to her beyond their introduction in the kitchen.
But soon, I won't have to worry about the guys around here because she won't live in this house anymore. She'll be in our house.
Shit.
Fuck!
I was supposed to buy the fucking ring today. I knew I was forgetting something.
I go to my closet to get dressed. I debate pulling out the Armani. You know--special day and shit. Instead I grab a dark blue button-up shirt I know Sloan likes and pair it with slacks. It really doesn't matter what I pick out of the closet, it's all fucking spectacular. I've always dressed for the level of respect I want to receive.
And no, my fucking father didn't teach me that one. He'd have probably made it a lot longer in the outside world had he not dressed like the fucking bum that he was.
When I reach the bottom of the stairs and glance in the kitchen, I see Jon standing at the sink with his back to me, holding a bag of ice to the side of his head.
"What happened to you?"
He turns around, and the whole fucking right side of his face is black and blue. "Christ, man. Who the hell did you fuck over?"
Jon drops the bag of ice in the sink. "No one important."
I walk into the kitchen. His face is even worse up close. And if he thinks he's not about to tell me who fucked him up, he's wrong. If he lost us another job, the left side of his face will look a whole lot worse than his right. I grab my keys off the counter and ask him again. "Who the fuck did that to you, Jon?"
He pops his jaw and looks away from me. "Some asshole caught me with his girl last night. Took me off guard. It looks worse than it was."
Fucking idiot. I laugh. "No, I'm sure it looks just as bad as it was." I walk to the pantry and check the alcohol stock. It's empty, as usual. I slam the pantry door. "We're celebrating tonight. Need you to stock up today. I have to run an errand."
Jon nods. "Special occasion?"
"Yep. Got engaged. Make it classy. None of the cheap shit." I head toward the front door and I hear Jon laugh. When I turn around, the fucker is still smiling. "Something funny?" I ask, walking back into the kitchen.
He shakes his head. "Is there anything not funny about you getting married, Asa?"
I laugh. And then I fuck up the left side of his face.
Fucking excess.
I make it to my car in the parking lot. Somehow. I grip the steering wheel and lean my head back.
I have no idea where the line is drawn now, it's so fucking blurred. I'm trying to do the job I'm here to do, but at the same time Sloan is making me question whether this is really the life I want at all. I have no idea if I was Carter just now or if that was all Luke. Luke is becoming Carter.
I'm pulling too much of myself into this job, but I have no idea how to not be myself when I'm with her. All the things I want to say to her. The things I wish I could do to her. The truth I wish I could tell her.
If I told her the truth about who I am and what I'm here to do, though, I'd be risking everything. My life. Ryan's life. Possibly her life. The less she knows, the better.
I press my forehead against the steering wheel and try to foresee the inevitable shitstorm that's coming our way.
I want to be with her. I want to be with her as Luke. But that can't happen until we have enough on Asa to put him away for good. And we won't be able to put him away for good until he slips up. He's careful right now. He's smarter than I initially thought.
But the more time it takes to get where we need to be in this investigation, the more danger Sloan is in. And knowing what I know now about Asa, leaving him is the worst thing she could do. There's no way he'd let her leave peacefully. He'd hurt her. And I wouldn't put it past him to hurt her brother, too.
She's stuck until he's gone, and that
could be months.
I lean back in my seat again and pick up my phone. As if I'm being punked, I have two texts from Asa.
Asa: Where are you?
Asa: Meet me for lunch at noon. Peralta's. I'm fucking hungry.
I stare at the texts for several seconds. This is out of character for him. He doesn't text on his regular phone when it has to do with a job, so...he literally just wants lunch?
Me: Be there in ten.
Twelve minutes later I'm weaving my way through the restaurant to where Asa is seated. He's staring down at his phone when I take my seat.
"Hey," he says, not even glancing up. He finishes the text and then sets his phone aside. "You busy tonight?" he asks.
I shake my head and pick up the menu. "Nope. Why?"
I look over the menu, but I don't have to make eye contact to see that he's smiling. He reaches behind him and then sets something on the table. I lower the menu and my eyes land on a box.
A jewelry box.
What the fuck?
He opens it and holds it out for me to take. I stare down at the ring, the dread making my skin itch. He's proposing?
I try not to laugh. He's fucking delusional if he thinks she's going to agree to this. He also doesn't know Sloan as well as he thinks he does, because this ring is nothing like Sloan. This ring is gaudy and showy. She'll fucking hate it.
"You're proposing?" I hand him back the box and pick up my menu again like I'm not really interested.
"No, I did that already. Tonight's the celebration."
My eyes flick away from the menu and straight to his. "She said yes?" I had no idea nods could be cocky until just now. I force myself to smile. "Congrats, man. She seems like a keeper."
Why did she not mention this to me this morning? Why would she agree to marry him? I guess she feels trapped. She can't very well say no to Asa with the position she's in. Agreeing to it was the safe thing to do, even though it makes me sick for her.
I just don't know why she didn't warn me.
He puts the box back in his coat pocket. "She is a keeper. She's heroin."
I lift an eyebrow. "Heroin?"
He shakes off my question and calls over the waiter. "I want a beer. Whatever you have on tap. And a cheeseburger, all the way."
The waiter looks at me. "Same," I say.
We hand over the menus and I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. It's probably Dalton. I texted him on the way here to let him know I was having lunch with Asa. I have no idea what this lunch is about, but I want to make sure the team knows where I am. Especially after Sloan said my name in her sleep. I half expected my agreeing to this lunch was a suicide mission.
I take a sip of the water already sitting on the table. "So when's the big day?"
Asa shrugs. "No idea. Soon. I want to get her out of that fucking house before she gets hurt. I don't trust a single goddamn person around her."
How thoughtful of him. He's about a day late, though, but I'm sure Jon failed to tell him that.
"I figured she liked it there," I lie. "Don't you guys have some kind of open relationship? How does that work?"
Asa's eyes narrow. "No, we don't have a fucking open relationship. Why the fuck would you think that?"
I laugh and casually bring up all the reasons why someone in my position should think that, even though I know better. "Jess? The chick you fucked in your bedroom last week? The girl in the pool two nights ago?"
Asa laughs. "You have a lot to learn about relationships, Carter."
I lean back in my seat. I try to keep this conversation going without seeming too interested, but I want to know every detail about why he's wasting Sloan's time.
"Maybe so. I assumed most relationships were between two people, but I guess I'm wrong. Relationships confuse me. As does yours."
"As does yours?" he repeats. "Who the fuck talks like that?"
We're interrupted by the waiter delivering our beers. We both take drinks and then he pushes his beer aside and leans forward, tapping his index finger against the table. "Let me teach you about relationships, Carter. In case you ever find yourself in one."
This should be interesting.
"Is your father alive?" Asa asks.
"Nope. Died when I was two." That's a lie. He died three years ago.
"Well that's your first problem. You were raised by a woman."
"That's a problem?"
He nods. "You learned about life from a woman. Lots of men do, it's fine. But that's what's wrong with most men. Men need to learn from men. We work differently than society leads women to believe."
I don't respond. I wait for him to continue this rare display of charitable genius.
"Men weren't designed by nature to be monogamous. It's engrained in us to spread our seed. To keep the population going. We're breeders by default, and no matter what society tries to force upon us, we'll be breeders until we kill ourselves off. That's why we're so fucking horny all the time."
I glance to my left, at two older women whose mouths are hung open, eavesdropping on Asa's definition of the male species.
"Women are the ones who give birth," I point out. "Are they not also considered breeders? Would it not also be in their chemical makeup to populate the world?"
He shakes his head. "They're nurturers. It's their duty to keep the species alive. Not to create it. Besides, women aren't into sex like men are."
I wish I were recording this. "They aren't?"
"Fuck no. They crave the expression of thoughts...emotions...feelings. They want to form a bond...a lifelong connection. That's why they push for marriage, because it's in their biological makeup to crave a protector. A provider. They need stability, a home, a place to raise their children. Women don't have physical cravings like we do. So it's only fair that we create the families for the women, but we also need an outlet to partake in our natural urges. When men fuck around, it's different than when the women fuck around."
I nod my head like I'm understanding his philosophy, but it's making me ill for Sloan. "So in your opinion, women don't have a biological excuse to sleep with more than one man. But men do?"
He nods. "Exactly. When a man cheats, it's purely physical. We're attracted to a woman's hips, to her legs, to her ass, to her tits. It's all about the sexual act. Dick in, dick out. When a woman cheats, it's purely mental. They're turned on by emotions. By their feelings. If a woman fucks a man, it's not because she's horny. It's because she wants him to love her. That's why I fuck around on Sloan. And that's why Sloan is not allowed to fuck around on me. Cheating for a man is different than cheating for a woman, and that's a fact, proven by mother nature herself."
Holy fuck. People like this actually exist. God help us.
"And Sloan is okay with this?"
Asa laughs. "That's the thing, Carter. Women don't understand because they aren't made like us. That's why men were also given the distinct ability to lie so well."
I smile, when all I'd really like to do is reach across the table and put an end to his ability to breed--an end to his ability to create life that might turn out like him.
"So what role do the mistresses play in all this?" I ask.
He smiles sickeningly. "That's why God made the whores, Carter."
I force a smile. He's right about one thing--I can definitely lie well. "So the whores are for nature and the wives are for nurture," I say.
Asa smiles proudly, like he actually taught me something. He lifts his beer. "Cheers to that," he says. We clink our beers together and he takes a sip. "My father used to say something similar to that."
"Is he still alive?"
Asa nods, but I notice the sudden tightness in his jaw. "Yeah. Somewhere."
Our food arrives, but I'm not sure I feel like eating after that twisted lecture on Darwinism.
I definitely don't feel like eating now that I know I'll be seeing Sloan tonight. At her fucking engagement party.
"You should give a toast tonight."
I pause, mid chew. "E
xcuse me?"
Asa takes a sip of his beer. "Tonight," he says, setting it back down on the table. "At the party. You should give a toast after I announce the engagement. You can string a sentence together better than any other fucker that'll be there. Make me look good. Sloan will eat that shit up."
I force the food down my throat. "I'd be honored."
Motherfucker.
I waste as much time as I can before coming home every day. The less I'm here, the better. After classes were finished up today, I went to the gym, then the library. It was after seven when I finally walked through my front door. Jon was sitting on the couch, glaring at me.
I rushed to the stairs and up to my room as fast as I could, but not before noticing his face. I don't know what happened after I walked away from him and Carter last night, but it's apparent Carter wasn't finished with him, because both sides of his face are black and blue now.
I make sure to lock my bedroom door. I don't know if Asa is here or not, but I'm never chancing being alone with Jon again.
Once I'm safe in the room, I toss my backpack on the floor. My eyes instantly fall on the dresser. Specifically on the jewelry box sitting on the dresser.
He bought me a ring. He makes promises almost daily and never keeps them. The one time I want him to forget is the one time he actually remembers.
Just my luck.
I walk over to the dresser and open the box. I don't even pick it up; I just push it open with my fingers, not really wanting to see it.
I immediately wince. Of course he would buy me this one; it was probably the biggest one in the jewelry store. Three huge diamonds make up the majority of the platinum ring, each diamond encased by smaller ones.
It's seriously ugly as shit. Am I actually going to have to wear this thing?
There's no hiding this. I knew I should have told Carter earlier today. I just didn't know how to tell the guy I'm developing feelings for that I just got engaged to someone else. To someone he loathes. Even if that engagement means very little to me.
I hear laughter outside, so I make my way to the bedroom window. There are coolers set up everywhere and Dalton is standing at the grill, flipping burgers. Several people are lounging and standing around. Maybe twenty. Asa must have heated the pool. It's like 65 degrees out and the water would be too cold to swim, but there are a few people in the pool already.