Free Bird

Chapter 21

James's POV

Creed has been keeping me unusually busy this week so I'm hiding out with Zeke today since it's Sunday and he's not working. Since I saw Danny at the bar with Sammy and found out that he would be setting her up from now on I put two and two together and figured that he had some sort of deal with Creed that involves keeping me at arm's length.

Sketchy fuckers.

Don't get me wrong: Sammy is my friend. Well, friend enough anyway. I just don't like that he obviously has some sort of fucking plan for Danny. The more I hang out with her, the cooler she seems and I really don't want to see her lose the shit that makes her, well, her. One of those things is a fucking conscience.

That shit is a commodity around here.

I know she has one because she was obviously fucking displeased about selling something other than pot to the kiddos. Yes, I know they're all roughly my age, but let's be real: it's not the year of the car. It's the mileage. They don't actually know what the fuck they're doing when they take that shit up their noses.

There's no such thing as informed consent for people who've grown up in a fucking bubble their whole lives. She knows it, I know it, Creed knows it, and Sammy sure as hell knows it. That's why I prefer dealing with the fucking junkies. I don't feel like I'm making them that way. They're already there.

Granted, it's a bit difficult to collect from someone like that who obviously isn't dipping into a trust fund or fishing for a higher allowance from mommy and daddy, but I haven't failed yet. That's why Creed likes me. He wants his money no matter how I have to get it and I do not disappoint.

"I can put it somewhere discrete. No one would even fucking know."

"Zeke, for the last fucking time, I don't want a damn tattoo, and if I did, it wouldn't be fucking Fluttershy from My Little Ponies," I sighed, rolling my eyes.

Dude smokes too much fucking pot.

"Oh, come on, she's fucking hot in the Equestria Girls. They're not even ponies in that show."

How the fuck does he know this shit?

"Then you get her."

"I would, but it would mess with my theme. You don't have any tattoos. You're like a blank canvas and I'm an artist."

"You're a crazy fucking pot head. If I was going to get a cartoon chick tattooed on my body it would be Jessica Rabbit or fucking Betty Boop."

"What, you don't like the good girl type?" Zeke smiles mischievously at me, "Like, say, one that looks like Danny?"

"Don't fucking start with me. It would feel like banging my kid sister or something."

"You don't have a sister. Wait. Do you? Is she hot?"

"No, I don't and you know that. It was a fucking analogy, you dumb shit."

"So. What's her deal, anyway?"

"What do you mean?" I don't know how much he knows and I'm not saying any more than what needs to be said.

Loose lips sink ships.

Zeke is quiet for a second, like he's trying to decide how much to say. It makes me think that something happened on Friday after I went to finish my "discussion" with Steve.

"Cal showed up when she was getting her tattoo and she started acting... different," he finally said.

Oh. That.