Page 10 of Nick

He stops directly in front of Patrick and looks him in the eye as he removes his gun and shoots Deke in the hand without looking. Damn, that must hurt. Deke screams but can’t move much with the surrounding chains. “Nothing requiring hospitalization,” he says to no one in particular, as the security guys each step towards us. Fuck, this is gonna hurt.

Chapter 7

I wake the next morning with a groan. Every inch of me hurts. Fuck, this sucks. Cracking the less swollen of my two eyes open, I reach for the pills and water I left on my nightstand, and then lie still until the meds kick in. The doctor checked each of us over after the beating. I’ve got 2 black eyes, bruises and sore ribs, and my nose had to be set.

I took a shower when we got home, knowing I would feel worse this morning, and I wrapped my ribs. The others were in similar shape, except for Deke’s gunshot wound. I’ll be curious to see how Patrick responds now. If history's any indication, he'll retaliate soon.

Once the edge of the pain's been cut, I gingerly get up and dress for the day. Shuffling to the kitchen, I make toast and coffee before settling on the couch.

Patrick doesn’t surface until lunch, and he looks like shit, which I’m thoroughly enjoying. One eye swollen shut, a broken nose, and many, many bruises. After a cup of coffee, he snorts a line of coke from the dining table. “Want some? Works better than the pain meds.”

“No,” I reply.

When he takes a seat on the sofa, he complains about his treatment last night. I don’t imagine he’s used to getting the shit kicked out of him these days, and it’s the most I’ve ever heard him talk about Artur and Fitzgerald. He completely believes he’s entitled to their entire business and profits. Delusional as always.

Apparently, Artur approached him as soon as he was released from prison to join their drug operations. He was waiting for Patrick right outside the main door when he took his first steps of freedom. Offering a small crew, a bar to run, and a place to live made it a straightforward choice for Patrick. That, and access to drugs. They had someone else in his position, but he overdosed shortly before Patrick came into the picture.

I wonder how many people Fitzgerald had on the inside, or if they talked to Patrick directly while he was locked up. I can’t imagine anyone on the inside had a stellar report on his character. Then again, they weren’t looking for an upstanding citizen.

Starting a new job doing the same thing you were imprisoned for wasn’t the smartest choice, but Patrick isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer. He must’ve been ecstatic at his condo when he saw it. It's much nicer than any place we've ever lived in South Carolina. Our condo growing up was disgusting, not just because of the drugs and women, but it was ancient, dirty, and moldy.

I slept at the small club he had when I was old enough to make my way there from the condo. Patrick never paid attention to me when I was a kid unless he needed me for something, so I walked there from school every day and slept under his desk at night after he left. The building was old, but it was locked up tight at night, and there weren't any drugs, people, or trafficked women. It was peaceful there.

Next, he tells me Deke was a major part of his plans to overthrow Artur and Fitzgerald, and he’s pissed about his dominant hand being destroyed. Deke was his choice to help him kill the two, and now he’s left without a wingman. He's not altering the timeline, despite his messed-up plans.

A knock at the door has Patrick telling me to get up and answer it. Two young women with heavy makeup are waiting, and I step aside when they ask for Patrick. Seems he wanted help to feel better.

By the time I grab a water bottle from the fridge and return to the living room, one woman is giving him a blow job while the other is doing a strip dance without music.

Fuck, more mental scars. I go to my room and shut the door. Lying on my bed, I try to get some rest while Patrick enjoys himself. We won’t be going into work anytime soon.

Chapter 8

The next month involves many late night meetings disguised as parties between Patrick, his crew, and random other lowlifes at our condo. Tonight, there’s another one. I’m sure the sudden increase in condo parties has been noticed by Artur, but Patrick was never the brightest bulb.

There's a predictable pattern to these gatherings. The girls land first. Most look like teenagers with too much makeup on and not enough clothes, but they're usually all smiles when they arrive. The free drugs, I guess. They're all given a pill or a line of coke by Patrick, and then about a half hour later, his crew arrives. That's when the party starts. After Patrick chooses a girl for the night, his crew are allowed to pick from the rest.

A half hour of dicks, tits, and various forms of sex follows before the guests arrive. Patrick is always gracious and smiling, making sure they have drinks, drugs, and women, like a good host. His crew always steps back when they arrive, allowing them to take center stage, so to speak.

After the guests have the girls, drugs, and alcohol, Patrick takes them aside to talk in pairs or groups.

I’ve overheard bits and pieces of the plan while pretending to drink myself stupid, but Patrick has shared nothing directly with me. He wants to remove Artur and Fitzgerald soon. The extra random guests are important players in the local drug trade, either in sales or storage.

Following hours of drugs, talking, and public sex, Patrick shakes hands with them, appearing to have struck a deal. I’ve done my best to memorize names and faces without being obvious. Some people I’ve seen around town, but many are new.

Tonight, the shitstain tells me he's having an important party and to not fuck any of it up, whatever that means. I've never caused problems at any of his parties before. His crew arrives first, before the girls tonight. They go straight for the alcohol and drugs, but then sit around the condo, talking quietly with each other. Strange. About twenty minutes later the girls arrive, and Patrick ushers them into his room. Again, odd.

The key players I've seen at other parties begin to arrive, and Patrick greets them like old friends, situating them around the living room as his crew move to the walls or the dining room. He doesn't ask me to move, so I stay put in my usual spot. What the fuck is he up to now? Finally, once everyone has arrived, music begins from somewhere, and the girls dance down the hallway and into the middle of the living room. A few get on the coffee table while the others surround them. It's a damn strip show. Internally rolling my eyes, I sip my water, aka vodka, and wait for it to end. The guests seem to be enjoying the show, a few of them shouting at the girls to take it all off. Four of the women do. They look older than eighteen, at least. The younger ones leave their lace and thongs on. Next, the four on the coffee table make out and finger fuck each other while the rest of the girls line up along the wall beside the dining table.

I endure the sex show for the better part of an hour before the women finish. After that, they each lay out on a surface. One chooses the dining table, one the coffee table, the third bends over the arm of the couch, and the fourth gets on her knees on the chair. The guests of honor pick women first and have sex before Patrick's crew gets a turn, and it's a free for all orgy. I’m surrounded by naked women and men fucking.

Patrick pulls all the key players to the dining table to discuss business, not allowing me or any of his crew to get close. Well, I’m the only one who probably noticed the meeting because everyone is occupied or drugged, or both. Each of the men has a girl on her knees under the table giving them blowjobs despite them all having sex already. I’ve seen more dicks and sagging balls than I’ve ever wanted to. Mental scars.

I’m trying to make out what’s being said at the dining table, but a drugged-out woman in front of me is being triple teamed and screeching. Finishing my water, I get up to get a refill, which allows me to get closer to the table, but they're talking in hushed tones despite the noise in the condo.

The party winds down earlier than usual, thank fuck. Patrick shakes the hands of his guests as they leave, passing a baggie of coke to each, and then kicks the rest of the people out and goes to his room with two naked girls. I have a feeling something will go down really soon.

Chapter 9