Hire Me!

Chapter 20

The top level of the apartment was completely unlike the two before it. Lex didn't even see the scenery, but Trent studied everything with the avid gaze of a child at Disney Land.

Jet black walls gave the space such a dim atmosphere that it had to be intentional. The few lamps spread at wide intervals made the shadows deeper.

There were a few people seated on furniture so nice it couldn't be found anywhere else in the slums. Half of the floorplan had been kept intact, but there wasn't any traffic around the rooms still standing. They were the personal rooms of Crazy Pete, and people didn't get access without very good cause.

Lex nudged Trent and nodded toward a group of chairs and couches lit by a pair of lamps in the center of the dark room. Four men in expensive clothes were seated there while half a dozen women hung on them. The women wore next to nothing, which certainly distracted Trent, but the men paid them no mind whatsoever.

Everyone was listening to a small, bald man speaking quietly in spite of his arm waving. Trent's eyes were drawn away from the little bald guy to the one figure in the group that dwarfed the others. It was the giant from the night before: Kevin. He didn't seem to be any worse for wear from the party, but then, he hadn't indulged anywhere near as much as the rest of Trent's guests.

Trent didn't wait for Lex to move forward, this was his idea. He didn't want Crazy Pete or anyone else to see him as Lex's minion. It would have been a bad idea to enter the drug den and have anyone think he was some type of hanger-on. Trent wasn't sure how much of a part he would play at Crazy Pete's, or if he would be playing anything at all, but he wasn't going to have anyone trying to take advantage of him while he was there. Lex followed him uncertainly, as if he didn't know the rule of never being weak in front of predators.

As Trent drew closer he saw that the man with the shaved head wasn't bald by necessity, his head had been shaved to a glistening shine, but the follicles of healthy hair were still visible. The look gave him a somewhat feral look, and what was worse was that it fit. The arm waving stopped in midsentence and shiny head stared at the two newcomers.

Lex he dismissed as someone that had been there countless times before, but Trent got an appraising look that lasted longer than was comfortable. No one else in the group made a sound or moved an inch beyond a quick glance at Lex and Trent, and even the girls stopped their preening.

“Lex,” he addressed the man his eyes didn't meet. “Who's this? If ya brought me a cop, ya know I'm gonna have to kill him.” The easy way he said it made Trent's hair stand on end. The words were only half a joke, and there was no question in Crazy Pete's dark eyes that he would do it without hesitation.

Lex coughed, but Trent wasn't sure if it was nerves or to hide a grunt of surprise. Trent wondered if something was wrong, but he stayed quiet.

“Pete, you know better than that.” His voice wasn't the normally confident tone he used with everyone Trent knew. “This is the guy Kevin shoulda told you about. Ya talked to him last night.”

Trent glanced sideways at his friend, wondering why he sounded as if he was reminding the dealer. Surely he could remember what happened the night before.

The crazy man screamed at the new guy, “Hey! You ain't no cop are ya?!”

Trent looked around the group slowly before bringing his eyes to rest on Crazy Pete. It was a much calmer move than he had thought he could pull off. “You think I woulda made it through the floor below if I was? Them creeps can smell cops.” Kevin nodded in his peripheral, and Trent knew he had said the right thing.

Crazy Pete stood theatrically. Even stretching to his full height he was shorter than Trent, but he stalked up to him without any hesitation. One of the girls fell out of his way as he came through, but Crazy Pete didn't look in her direction; she may as well have not existed.

“Well,” he breathed at Trent when he stopped a single step away. “I guess you and I got some business, then?” Trent wanted to lean back from the smell of Crazy Pete's personal space, but if Trent disrespected the dealer in any way his body would never be found. So, in spite of the stale smell of sweat, some girl's cheap perfume, and a few different flavors of smoke, Trent didn't back up from the aromatic gangster.

“Yup,” Trent decided to keep his answers short. He hadn't quite counted on the guy getting in his face. Short answers were best when someone was close enough to count the pores on your nose.

Crazy Pete tilted his head to the side and stared into Trent's face. His eyes squinted as if studying something, then faded as he lost focus on what he had been looking at.

Trent wondered what he was supposed to do. The guy was flat out nuts, and liable to freak out if Trent blinked wrong. He couldn't question his plan at this point, though. Dealing was the only way to survive; there weren't any options left. And of course, the crazy man breathing in his face would keep him from backing out.

Crazy Pete spun without warning and walked back the way he had come. This time he viciously backhanded the w***e that was once again slow to get out of his way. His head never even turned in her direction as his arm lashed out. The girl fell back against the couch and held her face with a low whimper.

Trent flinched at the loud smack, but no one else thought twice about it; they didn't move or offer a hand, or better yet, smack Crazy Pete. Even the other girls had no pity, as if it was her own fault that she had been sitting in reach.

Lex followed Crazy Pete across the large room when it became obvious the little bald guy wasn't stopping at his previous seat, and Trent realized he was meant to join them. Of course they wouldn't talk out in the open. Business had to be kept secret, after all.

He quickly caught up. Lex didn't say a word, and Trent was so caught up in wondering at the merit of his idea that he didn't notice the sidelong glances Lex threw at him every few steps. Lex hated his friend's plan, but what could he do? Trent thought he was right, and nothing could dislodge Trent when he thought he was doing the right hing. For someone that didn't have any conviction, Trent had a bad habit of digging in his heels when he felt like it.

Crazy Pete turned just inside the little hallway that gave access to all the rooms and slammed his palm into the first door. Trent stumbled to a stop; he had thought the gangster was going to walk by the door. Lex seemed to have been ready for the move because he easily followed the dealer into the room.

Trent wandered in and stopped. It looked like a war room. One entire wall was covered with an enormous map of Houston, marked all over with pins and colored marker notations. Unpainted steel trunks secured with brick-sized padlocks were stacked against the wall opposite the map, and in the center of the floor was a long wooden table.

Crazy Pete took the seat farthest from the door, leaned beneath the table, and grabbed a few glasses and a bottle of liquor from some cabinet hidden out of sight. Lex plopped himself down in one of the chairs, and Trent wondered why his friend looked as if he was sulking.

Crazy Pete stopped pouring and looked accusingly at Trent, “You gonna shut that or what?!” Trent swung the door shut behind him.

“Hey! Why the hell you slammin' my door?” Crazy Pete shouted.

Trent opened his mouth in confusion, remembering that Crazy Pete had just smashed the door open. But Crazy Pete wasn't looking at him any longer. His eyes were all on Lex, “What's wrong with you? He cool?” Crazy Pete nodded toward Trent.

“Would I bring him to you if he wasn't? Be cool.” Lex took a glass when it was offered to him.

Trent slowly moved to the table, and Crazy Pete leaned back in his chair, his entire demeanor shifting. His face relaxed, and Trent was thrown off by how different he suddenly looked. It was a vanishing mass of tension that was unnoticeable until it was gone.

“So, ya wanna deal for me?” He finally addressed Trent, but his voice didn't have the raw element it had possessed before. Trent's surprise must have shown because Crazy Pete smiled widely at his confusion.

All of it was an act. Lex had told him once that Crazy Pete wasn't as crazy as he seemed, but Trent had thought his friend was simply too close to him to see it clearly. The dealer was just a damn good actor. A little too good if anyone asked Trent.

“Yeah. I need the money.”

Crazy Pete nodded, “It's a lucrative business. With Lex vouchin' for ya, I'd take ya on if you'd walked in here with a badge pinned to your shirt.” Crazy Pete snorted at his own joke and looked at Lex, who still looked sick to his stomach about even being there. “You don't want him doin' this, do ya? Knowin' how ya feel, I'm a little surprised you were willin' to bring him. Couldn't talk him out of it, huh?” Crazy Pete smiled at Lex's failure to keep someone out of crime. Trent thought it had the sound of an old point of contention between them.

“You know I don't want anyone I like dealin'. Nothin' I can say is gonna stop him, though. Just like you. So, here we are. If he's gonna deal, I want him dealin' under you instead of those dumbasses outta the Clans.”

Crazy Pete nodded. “So, your little principles aren't as strong as they once were, I guess. There was a time when you wouldn't bend on something like this.” He said it smugly. “Just a few years back, it never woulda happened. Yet, here we are. Funny how things roll around.” The dealer was extremely pleased by the development. Trent hadn't been aware the two of them were so close. He had never seen Lex around the guy, after all, but he thought he would have known if his best friend and one of the biggest gangsters around were such good pals. Especially when the two of them talked as if they often hung around and discussed the metaphysics of the universe over tea.

Trent watched in confusion as Lex looked toward him, and then away again quickly. “Look, Pete, I'm here. I know ya wanna rub it in. But, if you remember anything we've talked about, you'd know I don't want this kinda s**t for Trent. He won't be talked out of it. Period. So, he'll have to learn for himself what happens when you play this game. It's on him.”

Crazy Pete chuckled. Trent's presence at the table was completely forgotten, and worse, Trent's glass of liquor sat untouched by Pete's elbow. “Yeah. But I figure if you're willin' to go back on that little belief...” He paused, a wicked gleam in his eyes, as if he was playing a joke on a victim that didn't have a prayer of getting away, “Would you be willin' to go back on others?”

Lex shook his head in disbelief. “You've gotta be kiddin' me...Hell. No.”

Crazy Pete laughed loudly and smacked the table, upsetting Trent's glass and spilling alcohol across the surface of the table. “Oh!” He looked to Trent as if only just recalling he was there. Crazy Pete refilled the glass as the first drink dripped to the floor. Then his gaze grew sly again, and he adjusted himself to stare at Trent. “You're good at talkin' Lex inta s**t he don't wanna do. Why not talk him into comin' back to work? I'll make it worth your while.”

Lex growled, Crazy Pete laughed, and the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Trent's eyes rushed to his friend's face, but he found he had known all along. Lex had nothing but disdain for drug dealers, and now it was obvious why: He had been one.

“Wait! Wait, wait, wait,” Crazy Pete looked from one to the other, “You didn't know?” He leaned on the table toward Trent, excited to make such a discovery. “Hell, Lex and I started out together, man. If he'd wanted to, he woulda been as high as me. In the food chain, that is.” He laughed at his little joke. “Problem is, he got popped and spent a coupla years in the can.” He looked at Lex appreciatively, “Never gave anyone up, either. If I had more people like Lex around, I could take over the whole damn city.”

“Now you know why I don't want you to do this?” Trent could read the fear in Lex's eyes, but Trent couldn't figure out why he should be scared. Sure, he'd been in prison, what of it? No one they knew was anything like a legal citizen. Lex had kept it secret too long to just let it come out, though. “I've seen what happens tryin' to get a few bucks, and goin' to prison is too high a price. Money means nothin' when it's held up against your life.”

Crazy Pete cut him off with a loud laugh. “We disagree with him, don't we, Trent?” His voice made it sound like it was some kind of battle, but the prize was something Trent didn't understand. What did either of them gain by getting his agreement?

Trent just stared at his best friend, unable to believe Lex would hate him for what came next.

“Yeah, Pete. Money's too important, and I can spare a few years. Time ain't done nothin' for me so far.” He looked away from his friend, and toward his new boss.

“That's what I like to hear.” Crazy Pete smiled. “You're hired.” His smug smile was directed at Lex as he said it.