Toxic Bad Boy(33)

“Get high, watch South Park, eat a giant burrito. Wanna join me?”

“The burrito part sounds good, but I can’t get in trouble again. The judge will throw my ass back in juvie until I turn eighteen.”

“Alright, man. I just need to stop by Ruben’s apartment.”

I turned at the next left, heading in the direction of Ruben’s apartment. I hadn’t seen the guy in over a year. Marijuana might be legal in Colorado, but it was still illegal to buy for anyone underage. The area of Denver he lived in was worse than I’d remembered. His apartment was one of four on this side of the building.

I parked my car on the street and followed Dante up the stairs to knock on the door. Music blasted from inside but turned off when Dante kicked the door several times.

The chick who answered was almost as tall as me and Dante, but way skinnier. The bags under her glazed eyes told me she was strung out, probably had been for days. “Who are you?” she slurred. Stringy brown hair hung to her shoulders and she wore no bra under her bright orange tube top.

“Is Ruben here?” Dante asked. “I texted him I was coming.”

“Damon?” she asked, recognition briefly lighting her eyes.

Dante stepped inside as she backed up, holding the door open for us. “Actually it’s Dante, and this is Caleb.”

“I’ll go get him,” She smiled, her teeth yellowed from unhealthy habits.

As she disappeared down the hallway, I murmured to my friend, “Sure you still want to get high?”

He grunted, taking a seat on the edge of a dingy couch. “I don’t want whatever she’s on.”

The apartment smelled of pot smoke and canned raviolis. A fantasy video game was paused on a enormous television and two ashtrays filled with cigarette butts decorated a scuffed coffee table. This dump made me fill dirty. Avoiding the stained couch, I leaned against a wall painted dark red.

Ruben came out wearing only basketball shorts and sagging socks, his scrawny chest covered in more tattoos than the last time I’d seen him. Unlike the chick, his grin showcased remarkably white teeth for his lifestyle. “Caleb, Dante! Haven’t seen you two in forever. What can I do for you?”

I stayed where I was as Dante stood to shake Ruben’s hand and receive a pat on the shoulder. “Just need a gram.”

Ruben’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s it?” He likely didn’t sell much of the stuff nowadays, with his venture into harder drugs and the legalization of marijuana.

“Need to relax tonight,” Dante answered vaguely. He didn’t smoke much anymore and knowing Cece’s ambitious personality, she wouldn’t approve. But my friend wasn’t the troublemaker I was and he did well in school. His mom was too strict for him to mess up much.

“Alright,” Ruben said, sauntering into the kitchen area to open a drawer. Knives, forks, weed, I guessed. If I ever entered Julie’s house again, it’d be funny to slip some weed into her cookie jar for her find at a later time. Odds were, Chance would be the one to find it, so maybe Julie’s panty drawer would be a better idea.

My dad spent time with Chance sometimes, picking him up for dinner or to see the latest superhero movie. Maybe I’d tag along next time so I could see the kid.

Dante had cash in hand, switching it for the baggie from Ruben. A pounding on the door interrupted whatever Ruben had been about to say. Dante got back to his feet when a deep voiced someone began shouting threats through the door.

Great, probably some junkie with no money.

Ruben ran a hand over his mouth, his eyes darkening with apprehension. “Fuck.”

“Who is it?” I asked, beginning to sense it was more than a junkie desperate for his next hit.

Ruben paced the small living room. Through the door a new voice yelled, “Open the fuckin’ door, Ruben, or we’ll break it down!”

The girl from earlier came out of the bedroom, her eyes now more alert. “Is it Sammy?”

“I gotta open it,” he said, his hand on the deadbolt.

Dante snatched my arm and I let him yank me further from the door. The door flew open the moment Ruben turned the deadbolt. Four scary motherfuckers barged in, one of them immediately pushing Ruben against the wall with a gun under his chin. “I want my money, shithead.”

Another of the intruders grabbed a hold of the druggie chick, making her yelp as he pushed her onto the couch and towered over her.

The eyes of the other two guys zeroed in on me and Dante. One of them pointed a gun at us, sneering. “Who the hell are you two?”

I felt Dante bristle next to me. Before he could shoot off his mouth, I answered for us. “Just customers of Ruben’s. Happy to mind our own business and leave.”