Never Doubt Me: Judge Me Not #2(44)

“We gotta talk.”

Kyle sits up and sets the pipe he’s been smoking from on a coffee table cluttered with other drug paraphernalia. “Okay,” he snaps, “then talk.”

My former dealer is looking worse than ever these days, skinny and haggard. He’s on his way to becoming used up.

After my ex-perusal, I get down to business. “I don’t want you selling any more drugs to my kid brother.”

Kyle laughs. “Little Gartner? Aw, dude, he’s one cool kid. No need to get all bent out of shape. I only sold him some weed, man.”

“You sold him more than that,” I grind out, my anger rising. “He got pills from someone, and unless the local pharmacy is selling speed over the counter these days, I’m guessing it was from you.”

“Oh, that,” Kyle mutters. “I forgot.”

Yeah right.

Kyle is such a cocky piece of shit that what I’d really like to do is smack the smug look off his f*cking face. But I don’t want to make things worse. Kyle knows he has the upper hand in this situation. I have no real way of stopping him from selling whatever he wants to my brother.

So I take a breath and rein in my rage. “Yes, that,” I sarcastically mock.

Kyle smirks and I continue to plead my case.

“Look, Will’s only staying with me the next couple of weeks…and then he’ll be back in Vegas. Don’t sell him anything else, man, or there’s going to be trouble.” I level Mr. Ex-Dealer with an I-am-not-f*cking-around look. “After all, Tanner, it’s not like you’re establishing a steady customer here.”

I may as well appeal to Kyle’s business side. Better than losing it and pummeling the f*ck out of his face, right?

He seems to ponder what I’ve said. Then again, maybe he’s just fading in and out because of the meth he just smoked.

When he finally replies, he says, “I got an idea that might just make us both happy.”

The cocky look on his face tells me before he even has a chance to say another word that it’s something I won’t like.

“What’s your idea?” I ask warily.

Kyle starts to say, “It’s a business thing—”

—And I cut him off with, “I am not muling drugs for you.”

A tense moment of silence ensues. Kyle knows it was his X that sent me away for four years.

“Don’t worry,” he says lightly, trying to diffuse the tension, “it’s nothing like that.”

“So, what is it?”

“Well, the way I see it”—Kyle lights up a cigarette and sits back—“I have a need here. And so do you.”

I roll my eyes.

“You don’t want me supplying little Gartner, right?”

“That’s right.”

It’s f*cking killing me to hear this prick call my brother “little Gartner,” all familiar like, over and over again, but I keep my mouth shut. Best tread lightly.

“Here’s what I propose,” Kyle says on an exhale as he leans forward and stubs out his barely smoked cigarette. “Next time little Gartner comes a-calling, looking for a little bud or something stronger, I’ll turn him away. But I need you to take care of something for me. Quid pro f*cking quo, man, that’s what shit’s all about.”

“What is this something you need?” I ask warily.

Kyle chuckles. “See, there’s this guy who owes me a shit-ton of cash. He’s not gonna pay up anytime soon without some, shall we say, encouragement.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I throw up my hands. “Fuck that. I am not your f*cking muscle.”

Kyle leans back and puts his feet up on the coffee table. “Fine, it’s your call, Gartner. But, remember, no favor from you, no favor from me.”

I take a menacing step toward him, and he puts his legs down in a hurry. He cowers back when I growl, “I should f*ck you up for even saying something like that.”

“Be cool, man,” Kyle says, his eyes widening with fear. “Why don’t you use all that righteous anger and just take care of my problem? That way, we both win. I promise, Gartner, you do this for me, and I won’t sell your brother a f*cking aspirin even.”

I scrub my hand down my face. Fuck, I’m at an impasse. This guy who owes Kyle money, I don’t have to hurt him. I could just scare him a little. Like what I did with Doug Wilson. I got my point across without laying him out, right?

I don’t see where I really have a choice, since I’ll basically do anything to keep my brother from following a path that will lead him to problems far worse than the ones he’s currently facing.

Reluctantly, I agree to “talk” to this customer of Kyle’s who owes him money. “Okay, I’ll do it,” I say quietly.

Kyle gives me the guy’s address, and it comes as no surprise that he lives in the apartment building Kay used to live in.

“You could probably find him there later,” Kyle offers, all helpful-like. “He hangs out in the alley next to that building every night.”

“I know where you mean,” I reply. And sadly, I do. In fact, I know the place all too well.

“Here’s a picture I got of him.” Kyle picks up his cell phone. “He didn’t know I was taking it when I snapped it last week.”