Comin' Home to You (9 page)

“Girl, you’re taking too many shots,” Ali noticed. “Crystal and booze don’t mix that well if you overdo it.”

Jolie and Tasha laughed in their intoxicated states, while Ali gave a polite chuckle. This was almost an every night thing at her house. Sometimes it would be just her and Clint passing the pipe back and forth, but the entire gang was present tonight. They were feeling the initial rushes from their hits of the drug and were feeling giddy. While Ali usually enjoyed the company of her friends, she was feeling nonchalant today. Her father had gotten on her nerves, yet again. She couldn’t believe he would try to make her feel guilty for what she did. As an adult, she could do whatever she wanted. If she wanted to stay up days on a meth binge, she could. She was a free woman and was entitled to act as so. Her father had no place to be so nosey and assertive. She was even doing Austin a favor by having him stay with his grandfather. He didn’t need to see this behavior. This was her life, and she wouldn’t let Owen screw it up with his attempts at giving her his fatherly opinions.

“Hey Tasha,” asked Jolie, moving her hand through her long dyed red hair to rub at her scalp. “Where’s Jenny May at tonight?”

“I told her about the good shit Scar has at his place. That stuff he has, it keeps me going for days. She got all curious, so she probably went over there to score a tiny bit.”

Ali grabbed Tasha’s shoulder in her astonishment, but not in an overly threatening way. “Are you fucking serious, Tasha? You told Jenny May where Scar lived? Are you serious?”

“Girl, Jenny May is always looking for a high. She kept hounding me until I told her where he lived. I mean, I figure he’ll be cool. I have been fucking him lately, after all.”

Jolie frankly smiled, but her eyes had a hint of jealousy. “You’ve been doing it with Scar?”

“Girl, he’s had me every which way. I get a little freakier, the hook up gets a little sweeter. And girl, he’s as big as you could imagine. Holy shit, he’s packing!”

Ali tried not to imagine what he had going on down there. Something about Scar rubbed her the wrong way. She never could put her finger on it, but there was something she just couldn’t figure out about him. Despite being on a muddled meth high a lot of the time, she was constantly trying to ascertain Scar’s intentions. He adored Austin, but the way he was around her was just odd. He’d laugh at her attempts at humor. He’d hold open the door for her, when Clint had no problems letting it shut in her face. The man was just different around her, and she never could figure out why. She decided not to dwell on it. Tonight was another night of living it up to the fullest.

To her left, Jolie was checking her Facebook on her phone. She was probably her closest friend, though Ali hardly ever hung out with her or anyone unless drugs were involved. Her hair was constantly dyed bright red and she had a lip ring. She had some thickness on her, but wasn’t fat by any means. Jolie was a year older than her and just like Ali, didn’t graduate high school, though Jolie at least made it to her junior year. On the other side was Tasha, who had jet black hair and a body that most men would die for. Currently, she was Scar’s new sexual interest. That’s all they were destined to be. She seemed fine with it, and had no problem flaunting and bragging about the man she was fucking. Scar was the hottest piece of man in this area to the women who drank, did drugs or just had a penchant for hanging around the wrong crowds.

Noticing her hand still remained on Tasha’s shoulder, Ali removed it to pour another shot and to take an opportunity to speak her mind. “Tasha. That was dumb…dumb, dumb, dumb, telling Jenny May where Scar lived.”

“How so?”

“Uh, because Scar doesn’t like people knowing where he lives. You know what he does for a living, right?”

“Of course. I ain’t no idiot. He’s like, a badass dealer.”

“Are you kidding? He’s over the dealers. He’s over the manufacturers. He’s over the distributors. He’s over everything around here. He’s the boss ‘round these parts.”

Tasha shrugged. “Same thing, right?”

Ali had an acerbic comment that dealt with her ignorance, but decided to table it. “Anyway, he’s careful. I only know because of the guy I’m with, and you only know because he’s fucking you, which I’m surprised he even took you back to his house.”

Tasha look annoyed. “So what the fuck are you getting at? That I shouldn’t have told Jenny May where he lived?”

“Fuck no! He ain’t gonna be expecting Jenny May to wander up to his door. I mean, shit, he has some of his dumbass cousins out there guarding his house. You ever notice those trailers? Scar’s careful.”

“So?”

Now it was Ali that was annoyed. “She might get fucking killed, Tasha.”

“I think I know him better than you, Ali. He wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t know him better than me if you don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Jolie decided to speak her mind. A sly and shrewd grin grew from her large lips. “Oh, I bet he’s capable of a lot of things.”

Tasha laughed loudly, still chuckling when she replied. “Oh, he is. But you ain’t getting any of it.”

The two girls continued to laugh and make jokes while Ali stared glumly at the television. It was on a music channel, where it was currently playing some red dirt country music that was heavy on the fiddle. To her, it was just background noise. She wasn’t sure what was going on with her recently. She had been more standoffish and didn’t seem to be having as much fun as she normally did. Lifting herself up from the couch to try to shake her doldrums, Ali walked over to the kitchen, where her fiancé Clint and his friends BJ, Bird Dog and a Grayson cousin that she didn’t know the name of, nor cared to learn it, were playing Texas Hold ‘Em, betting beers for each hand. Needless to say, they were getting hammered. When it came to physical descriptions, BJ was the skinny one and Bird Dog was the fat one. BJ couldn’t grow facial hair and could pass for a high schooler. Bird Dog at least had a little facial hair to cover up his fat chin.

Clint saw Ali approaching, grabbing a hold of her ass when she was close enough. “Hey, check this shit out, babe. Alright, fuckers, I am betting three of these delicious Keystone Lights.”

BJ had a wicked smile on his face. “I’ll call that shit.”

Ali had a confused look. “I don’t get it. Are you winning three beers from BJ?”

“Hell no. If I win, BJ has to chug three beers.”

“And if he can’t chug them?”

BJ answered for himself. “Of course I can chug all them beers. But if I can’t do it, all the boys here get to kick me right in the balls.”

Ali closed her eyes in disbelief. “Well, that sounds like a fun game.”

Bird Dog slapped the table. His chin fat jiggled. “It gets us fucked up! That’s why we like it!”

“Bitch, don’t be slappin’ my fuckin’ table again.” Clint glared at Bird Dog with demonic eyes.

With a grin that showcased his lack of dental hygiene, Bird Dog raised his palm openly to where Clint could see it, then slapped the table again.

Clint’s mouth smirked. “Ah, hell nah!” Getting up from the table, Clint rushed to Bird Dog and went for his chest. Bird Dog swatted the first attempt away, but the second wave landed on its target. Smirking even greater, Clint pinched as hard as he could with Bird Dog’s nipples locked in tightly. The fat man yelped in pain, while the other two men laughed. BJ’s laughter was so raucous that he wiped a tear from his eye.

After the crew calmed down, Clint directed everyone to turn their focus back on the game. Flipping over his cards and slamming them on the table, he believed he had the winning hand by the look on his mug. “Boom, motherfucker! Jack high straight!”

BJ calmly turned his cards over before getting wild himself. “Well I got a flush! Read it and weep!”

Cracking open the three beers on the table, Clint didn’t seem upset. “I guess I better get to drinkin’ then.”

The men around the table chanted and cheered on Clint to chug. Ali quietly watched on as her fiancé did his part, chugging three beers as if they were nothing. Once the last can escaped his lips, he let out a massive belch that gave rise to adulation from his peers. He took a bow, then slammed one of the cans down like he was spiking a football. “That’s how you drink some fuckin’ beers!”

“Fuck yeah!” cheered Bird Dog, feeling motivated to finish the beer he had been nursing.

After grabbing another beer out of the refrigerator a couple of steps away, something popped into Clint’s head. “Hey y’all, did I tell you about the fight I got in a couple weeks back?”

“You said something about it, but you didn’t really go into any details,” answered BJ.

“Well, I was in Tyler a couple weeks back. Scar wanted me to go take care of a thing or two in the city, so I did.”

Lies,
thought Ali.
Scar doesn’t trust him to take care of any business in Tyler. He don’t trust him to do anything. He’s probably fucking someone else…again.

“So I find a bar and I am there with one of the Shreveport boys. This place looks like a biker bar, right? And I get in there and I’m already the biggest badass there. I take a few fuckin’ shots of whiskey, drink some beer, you know how it is. Next thing I know, I can tell this bald dude at the bar has been looking at me like he wants to fuck me or some gay ass shit. I ask him what the fuck his problem is. He gets up and bows up to me, and says something like how you don’t disrespect a Marine or something.”

Bird Dog smiled and slapped the table. “Ah man, he shouldn’t have said that shit.”

“Damn right. I told him that you don’t disrespect me, faggot. He takes a swing at me, and I’m ready for it. I dodge it and at the same time pick up an empty longneck from the bar. Man, I smashed that shit over his bald head. He started bleeding and fell to the ground and shit, and then I stomp a mud hole in his ass. A couple of his gay friends got in the way and pleaded me to stop. As they are dragging him away, I tell him this. I tell him…thank you for your service…faggot!”

The three men at the table started laughing hysterically. “You whooped his ass and called him a faggot?” asked BJ.

“Fuck yeah, I did. Bitch shouldn’t have stepped up to me. I don’t give a shit if you’re in the Army or a preacher or a fuckin’ UFC fighter. You step up to Clint Grayson, you gonna’ get your ass beat.”

Without a word, Ali went back to the living room and took a seat on a recliner, easily tired of Clint’s prideful boasting. She had considered going into the bedroom to be alone, but she didn’t want to cause a scene. Her fiancé wouldn’t like it if she did. While the initial rush of her puff of the meth was starting to wind down, she strangely didn’t feel like smoking any more. Jolie and Tasha were still talking like schoolgirls. For some reason, it just sounded annoying. In fact, everything was annoying. This was supposed to be an entertaining night. But here she was, irritated by every damn thing in this house and not even wanting to smoke any more. It made her wonder if the meth she smoked wasn’t very potent, or if her mindset was overpowering the high. She took another shot of whiskey, hoping that would be the kick start for her to get back into a fun mindset.

Hearing the faint sounds of two vibrations, Tasha grabbed her phone from her bedazzled purse. Her eyes grew a little disturbed when she looked at her texts. “Jenny May texted me. She said that her and Scar hooked up. What the fuck does that mean?”

“Maybe she meant hooked her up,” Jolie answered.

“Scar wouldn’t fuck another girl, would he? Not Jenny May, right?” desperately asked Tasha.

Ali could tell the question was geared toward her. “You really don’t know him. Of course he would.”

Tasha bit her lip in angst. “I’m gonna kill that little skank faced bitch!”

“Don’t blame her. Blame Scar.”

Tasha stood up, looking down at Ali. “You think he’d seriously fuck Jenny May over me? Look at me! I’m hot shit! Why the fuck would he do this?”

“Shouldn’t have told her where he lived.”

“Fuck you, Ali.”

Everything inside Ali told her to get up and slap the shit out of Tasha. How she deemed this girl a friend was now beyond her. She was barely tolerable. While Ali enjoyed having company when doing drugs or drinking, a quiet atmosphere was becoming desired. Not knowing what exactly to say and not wanting to start any shit, Ali decided to just shake her head and turn her attention to the television, which was doing nothing but displaying the musical artist and the song title on the screen.

“Hey hey hey,” yelled Clint, hearing what was going on from the kitchen. “What the fuck’s going on in there?”

“Your brother fucked my friend! Well, used to be friend!” Tasha shrieked.

BJ looked perplexed. “Who? Jenny May?”

“Yep. Stupid little cunt.”

Bird Dog was slightly saddened. “Damn.”

Clint smirked heavily on one side of his face. “Oh shit, that was your little crush, wasn’t she?”

“Not a crush. I just wanted a piece of that little ass.”

BJ jokingly consoled his friend, patting him on the back. “Hey man, ain’t nothing wrong with seconds.”

“Man, my brother probably ruined that shit. I bet she’ll be walking around all bow legged for days. I tell you what, Bird Dog. Stick a little piece of crystal in your pee hole, and I guaran-damn-tee you that Jenny May will be suckin’ on that thing in no time.”