guy stood to the far left side of the room. Tadeo stood directly in front of us, half his body behind a metal desk the color of eggshell. A third guy, in a mechanic’s overalls, was passing a joint when we walked in. He wasn’t yet drinking age and fear seized his face when Bubba entered behind me; unless the fear made him stupid ballsy (it happens), he’d be the least of our problems.
The fourth guy sat slightly to our right, behind the desk. He had dark hair. His skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, fresh droplets popping through the pores as we watched. He was about thirty-going-on-a-coronary, and you could smell the crank singeing his veins from Newfoundland. His left knee jackhammered under the desk, his right hand patted a steady bongo beat on the top. My laptop sat in front of him. He stared at us with bright eyes pinned to the rear wall of his skull. “This one of the guys?”
The fat guy pointed at me. “That’s the one fucked up Tadeo’s face.”
Tadeo said to me, “The re-up’s coming on that shit, homes. Believe it,” but there was a hollow catch in his voice that came from trying not to look at Bubba.
“I’m Max.” The tweeker behind my laptop gave me a broad smile. He sucked oxygen into his nostrils and gave me a wink. “I’m the IT guy up in this shit. Nice laptop.”
I nodded at the table. “My laptop.”
“Huh?” He look wildly confused. “This is my laptop.”
“Funny. Looks a lot like mine.”
“That’s called a model.” His eyes popped against their sockets. “If they all looked different, they’d be kind of hard to manufacture, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Tadeo said, “you fucking retarded and shit?”
I said, “I’m just a girl standing before a boy looking for his laptop.”
“I heard you’d got your head in the right place about this,” Max said. “We were never supposed to see you again. No harm, no foul. You want to bring us into your life, you don’t
“Look,” I said, “I can’t afford a replacement.”
He rocked forward into the desk, his whole endoskeleton surging against his skin. “Call a fucking insurance company.”
“It’s not insured.”
“This fucking guy, bro,” he said to Bubba, then checked the position of his men. He looked back at me. “You’re out of this. Just let it go and you’ll stay out of it. Run back to your little life.”
“I’m going. I just want to take my laptop back with me. And the picture of my daughter that was in my bag. Bag’s yours.”
Tadeo moved all the way out from behind the desk. The fat guy stayed against the wall, breathing heavy. The kid mechanic was breathing heavy, too, and blinking like crazy.
“I know the bag’s mine.” Max got to his feet. “I know this office is mine, that ceiling, the O-ring in your ass, if I feel like it.”
“Uh, okay,” I said. “Hey, who hired you, by the way?”
“Man, you with the
Bubba’s shot spun him in place. Max let out a sharp shout and fell back into his chair. The chair slammed off the wall and dumped Max to the floor. He lay there for a bit with blood pouring from the vicinity of his waistline.
“What’s with all this ‘bro’ shit lately?” Bubba lowered his gun. It was his new favorite, a Steyr 9mm. Austrian. Hideous-looking.
“Ho, shit!” Tadeo said. “Holy fucking shit.”
Bubba pointed the Steyr at Tadeo and then the fat guy. Tadeo put his hands on his head. The fat guy did too. They both stood there shaking and awaiting further instruction.
Bubba didn’t even bother with the kid. He’d dropped to his knees and lowered his head to the floor and kept whispering, “Please, please.”
“You fucking shoot the guy?” I said. “A bit harsh, no?”
“Don’t bring me out on this shit if you’re going to leave your pair at home.” Bubba frowned. “Goddamn embarrassing what a civilian you’ve become, man.”
I got a closer look at Max as a burst of air left his mouth. He ground his forehead into the cement floor and pounded a fist on it.
“He’s fucked up,” I said.
“I barely hit him.”
“You blew one of his hips off.”
Bubba said, “He’s got two.”
Max began to shake. The shakes quickly turned to convulsions. Tadeo took a step toward him and Bubba took two steps toward Tadeo, the Steyr aimed at his chest.
“I’ll kill you just for being short,” Bubba said.
“I’m sorry.” Tadeo raised his hands as high as they could go.
Max flopped onto his back. Kettle hisses preceded his gulps of air.
“I’ll kill you for wearing that deodorant,” Bubba told Tadeo. “I’ll kill your friend for being your friend.”
Tadeo lowered his hands until they shook in front of his face. He closed his eyes.
His friend said, “We’re not friends. He gives me shit about my weight.”
Bubba raised an eyebrow. “You could lose a few but you’re not an orca or anything. Shit, man, just lay off the white bread and the cheese.”
“I’m thinking Atkins,” the guy said.
“I tried that.”
“Yeah?”
“You gotta give up alcohol for two weeks.” Bubba grimaced. “Two
The guy nodded. “That’s what I told the wife.”
Max kicked the desk. The back of his head rattled off the floor. Then he was still.
“He dead?” Bubba asked.
“No,” I said. “But he’s heading there, he don’t get a doctor.”
Bubba produced a business card. He asked the big guy, “What’s your name?”
“Augustan.”
“Well… No, really?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Bubba looked over at me and shrugged before looking back at Augustan. He handed him the card. “Call this guy. He works for me. He’ll fix your friend up. The fixing’s free, but the drugs’ll cost you.”
“That’s fair.”
Bubba rolled his eyes at me and let loose a sigh. “Grab your laptop, would you?”
I did.
“Tadeo,” I said.
Tadeo lowered his shaking hands from his face.
“Who hired you?”
“What?” Tadeo blinked several times. “Uh, a friend of Max’s. Kenny.”
I ignored him. “Redheaded guy from the house, Tadeo?”
“Kenny Hendricks, yeah. He said you knew his old lady. Said you found her kid once when she went
