An Injured Conscience

Chapter 24

Trent's rage was obvious as he stalked by the frowning guard on Crazy Pete's first door. The vibration of the enormous speakers hit Trent a little softer than it had before; he was getting used to them. On the walk back to Crazy Pete's HQ dawn had broken, and Trent wondered whether the ravers would disappear into whatever hole they slept in until the next night. He scoffed at the dancers still spinning in exhausted delirium as he waded through them toward the stairs at the opposite end of the dance floor. His mood was recognizable even to the partiers; they gave him wide berth and never once tried to pull him into the crowd.

Kevin tried to follow, but his status as one of Crazy Pete's closest friends hindered his progress. Everyone who wanted to be anyone stopped him so they could be seen greeting him, and the girls with nowhere to go for the night struggled to make sure they would be the one he took to bed.

Trent looked back once to see how his 'bodyguard' fared. Kevin's face begged for a rescue, but Trent's anger left him incapable of helping anyone. He turned and continued up the stairs without acknowledging the man that had stood with him through the dark night. The junkies on the next floor literally leaned away from the look on his face as he stomped past. It was a heady feeling to have people be nervous around him for once.

He knocked at the penthouse door, slamming his palm against the steel door as if he could push it down, then jumped past the guard without a greeting. He hit the top of the stairs and stopped, glaring around and looking for the man he worked for. Crazy Pete sat at the head of a cluster of people at a table that hadn't been there when he left. Unlike the other two times, the girls were absent, and the men all looked at Trent as if he had lost his mind. Something serious was going on.

Without anyone saying a word he walked toward the group and sat down in one of the empty chairs. He nodded to Crazy Pete in the silence.

The crazy boss wore a small smile, but it was anyone's guess why. Maybe just Trent's audacity at joining the group, or even something as normal as being happy to see his newest employee back in one piece. The streets weren't all that nice, even with someone like Kevin standing guard. Crazy Pete glanced at his lieutenants with a look that made it clear Trent could sit in if he wanted.

“So, the Clans are tryin' to move in over them two blocks. I want people on those streets at all times, makin' sure they don't get the idea we're just gonna roll over if they try and come in. If ya see 'em poaching, take 'em on immediately. I don't want any damn excuses about there bein' too many of them like last time. I don't give a s**t, we kill every one of the b******s that tries stealing from us.” He grinned and cackled softly. A few of the lieutenants blanched at the sound. Obviously new guys, and obviously nervous about murder. They wouldn't last long in Crazy Pete's employ, but Trent's anger kept him from reacting in the same way.

He began rifling through his pockets and taking out the rolls of money contained inside. Crazy Pete's lieutenants were discussing exactly how they would settle the Clans, but Trent stopped listening.

He made $800 through six hours standing on the corner. An impressive amount of money, considering a month at Charlie's never brought him that much. He broke it up in two stacks of $400 and set one on the table in front of Crazy Pete. The kingpin glared at him with all the fury of someone that was unhinged. This time Trent had done something wrong. He got away with sitting down, but setting the money on the table was a mistake.

“I ain't doin' business right now! We're talkin' somethin' serious, not some damn little bit of money!” He stared hard at Trent, and Trent reflexively opened his mouth to snap back. The thought didn't last long with the madman's eyes on him.

The others in the little group alternatively looked at the floor between their feet and the ceiling. Trent broke eye contact first, not wanting to challenge Crazy Pete in his own domain. Or really wanting to challenge him anywhere. A few of the lieutenants looked pleased at the boss setting down the guy that had presumed to sit down at their table.

Trent stood to leave, and Crazy Pete snapped again. “Where the hell you goin'?! Put the money in the back room and then get the hell outta here.” Crazy Pete didn't glance at him. The boss went right back on with his discussion.

“Now there ain't much we can do against these b******s while they have the numbers on us. But I want you guys to start thinkin' of ways we can get at them without causin' too many fingers to be pointed back at us. We aren't ready for a war, so don't start one. But I wanna hurt 'em as bad as I can before the lead starts flyin'.”

Trent crossed the room and entered the back hallway, so he missed the rest of the conversation. It wasn't anything more than the business of running a gang, and Trent didn't need to know anything about it. He didn't consider himself part of the gang, in all honesty. His new affiliation wouldn't change anything about the way he ran his life.

For lack of a better place to put it, Trent set the money down in the center of the table. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do with the final three bags of heroin in his pocket. Crazy Pete had said he could keep whatever he didn't need to pay back, though. So, the drugs left with him.

He wondered for a moment how Crazy Pete made so much money off of drugs when he allowed his dealers to keep so much. The numbers just didn't add up. There had to be something more going on, and for a moment Trent thought about trying to learn what it was. Then he remembered that he wouldn't be involved with these people long, and he didn't want to get in so deep that he couldn't keep his head above water.

He looked around again after setting the money down. The only interesting object was the large map on the wall. He walked up to it after glancing around like someone on a covert mission. He could see the area Crazy Pete was talking about having to fight for. There were red and green tacks all around it, but Trent had no idea what the colors meant. Christmas colors, they didn't make any sense to him.

He didn't want to get caught studying the map, though. Regardless of his having been vouched for, no one was likely to overlook a lowly dealer taking note of battle plans. He turned and smoothly walked out of the room before anyone walked in on him. One of the guys had left the meeting while he was in the room. Probably to take care of some business or other. They really took their gangster status seriously. If they only spent half the time they spent finding ways to break the law on something constructive, they could have been anything they wanted.

Trent strolled out of the room, the anger that had grown on the streets having faded at the confrontation with the more dangerous anger of Crazy Pete. Now he wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep. He had money in his pocket for once; enough to pay his rent and maybe even get some food. After his argument with Penny, the way Lex was acting, and his being cut off from Erin, Trent would have to buy his own food. No one else at Charlie's would give him anything without one of those three saying so. Even California would refuse to help out to avoid upsetting them.

He absentmindedly nodded toward the group of people sitting with Crazy Pete when he registered that they were looking at him, but he didn't really see them, and he exited the penthouse without a word. The guard at the steel door nodded respectfully, but didn't say anything after seeing the preoccupied look on his face.

The junkies all seemed to be a little more awake than usual. They had run out of whatever money they had swindled the day before, and now it was time to come up with a few bucks to support the habit one more day. The w****s in the corner were passed out in their places, except for one girl in a plaid mini-skirt and white tank top who stood looking toward the door that led down to the dance floor.

It was the first time Trent had seen any of them away from the safety of their circle. He stopped in the middle of the room and stared at her over the waist high walls that separated them. For some reason a moment of clarity hit him, and he saw the entire picture as if he was someone else.

The old cardboard boxes and trash that littered the demolished rooms and hallways gave the scene a junk yard air. Garbage stacked knee high in places, oftentimes hiding a sleeping junkie.

The girl had short blond hair that looked to have been hacked off with a butcher knife, and the slim build of someone that either didn't eat enough or was dealing with a drug problem. Or both.

She turned toward Trent and he inadvertently smiled at her. She was absolutely livid about something. Whoever she was staring after had upset her. Even the mask she assumed at the sight of a prospective client couldn't hide the rage that contorted her features a heartbeat before.

The blond sashayed toward him, attempting, and failing, to make herself appear to have more curves beneath the checkers of her miniskirt than she did. When she was within arms reach she halted and whispered breathily, “You lookin' fer some fun after a long, hard night?” The whisper wasn't what sent shivers up his spine, it was the anger that still simmered just below the surface.

Trent's mind flew to Sandy and the fact that she was back at his apartment. Waiting for him. Then he wondered why he had to consider her. The girl was giving lap dances to dozens of guys each night. What could she say? More importantly, why did she have to know? Would she even care, with her job being what it was?

The little voice in the back of his head insisted Sandy would care. And because she would care Trent knew very well that he wouldn't tell her. She was a human being, just like the girl in front of him. He slapped the voice down and smiled.

“Where?”

A flash of disgust swept across her face, and Trent lost his smile. Was he right to do this? Normally the girls were much better at masking their emotions. That one display nearly talked him out of it, and if she hadn't roughly grabbed his wrist and pulled him after her, chances are he wouldn't have followed.

Trent knew that neither of them would find any enjoyment in what came next, but the girl's anger had drawn him in, and now he was stuck.

Author's Note

reviews always welcome