Tap Out (13 page)

The walk wasn't as bad as I thought. Moving that much seems to have helped my rib. My face is still busted to fuck,
but I didn't expect that to change. Big O was prowling the halls when I slipped in. I made sure to go the opposite direction and kept my eye out. Did the same with Rob, who was definitely looking for me. It was like he'd lost a pet. I'm surprised he wasn't calling my name and whistling. At least he cared, though. Shit may not be that bad when I talk to him. Then again, he may just drop me in the middle of the hall when we do meet up. For now I'm good, rolling through the morning, done with history and math. Cleaning duty now. Maybe Big O will be waiting?

The wall-eyed janitors aren't in front of the TV, aren't around anywhere that I can see, but the big fuck is. “Good. I was hoping you wouldn't bail on me.” He steps out of the office.

“I haven't missed once.”

“Yeah, but it's homecoming. Planning on more fun like last year?”

The fuck is this dick talking about? He doesn't know me.

“Didn't know I knew, huh? Getting high. Getting in that fight.” He laughs. “If you call
that
fighting.”

I feel like turning around, walking out and checking to see that I'm in the right fucking place, because this feels like I'm in Big O's office. “What are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Please, don't play stupid. I see and hear everything around here. Just letting you know where you stand.”

“All right.”

“And Big O and I go way back.”

I try to play it cool, but my eyes pop.

“Yeah. I know that's what you call 'im. So did we. Back in the day.”

This is just weird. Period. Maybe I'm sleeping in Sagehorn's and the bell's gonna ring and I'll wake up.

“So he gives me the dirt on the riff-raff he sends me. Like you.” Franks puts his hands on his hips and looks like the Jolly Green Giant.

I don't understand why he's telling me this or why it matters. So him and Big O used to be friends, or are friends, or whatever. What the fuck does that have to do with me? “All right. What's your point?”

Franks crosses his arms over his chest and looks at me with his hard-ass stare. Yeah, I can see how the Big O and him could get along. “My. Point. Is that the best indicator of future behavior is past performance.” He lets that hang in the air, like he's some teacher or shit, waiting for me to have some fucking “lightbulb” moment. Haven't had one of those in years. I shrug.

“You don't get it do you? You're not like the rest. You've got that edge, but, no, something's different. Even though you're trying to be a bad-ass with your MMA crap, you don't have the heart to be completely lost. Or you're too scared to be.”

“You don't know me, and I don't know what the hell you're trying to do here, so just give me a damn broom or I am ditching. I don't need to take this from you.”

Franks pops off the wall. “Hmm. Maybe I'm wrong.” He grabs the sweeper and hands it over to me. I take it and rush out before he has a chance to say anything else.

I sweep the hall, thinking about what Franks said. That motherfucker.
Trying to be bad-ass.
He's got no fucking clue.
Or you're too scared to be.
Like he has any idea what I've had to face. Of course I'm scared. If I wasn't I'd be stupid. And as much as it's done jack shit for me, I know I'm not stupid. The fucking opposite.

I slam the sweeper against the wall, leave a pile and walk past lockers all decorated for the athletes:
Go Jake #65. Slay
the Cougars, Jeremy!
I feel like ripping them off, but don't. Franks would know. I just sense it. That fuck's got me weirded out. How's he know all that shit? Big O really tell him? They really got it on camera? Thought that was typical bullshit. And who the fuck told him I'm a fighter? I'm not. I can't be. Not after what I did. Does Franks know about that?

I finish and return to the office. But no one's around, so I put the sweeper back and bolt. I hit the hall and make my way toward the main entrance, toward the buses for Vo-Tec. Now I've got nowhere to hide.

They're all there, bunched into a pack like they've got an inside joke. Amy looks like she's gained at least ten pounds. She's eating her nerves calm because Charity still isn't back. Must be nice to get away. I roll up just short of them.

Amy and Rob look over but I don't give them a chance to speak. The bus pulls up and I hop on, sit up front and look out the window. Rob stops. “This how it is? You ain't talking?”

I refuse to turn. Not talking? No, more like needing a fucking conference room for the two of us to figure this out.

It sounds like he goes to say more, but doesn't, just shuffles to the back.

That hurts more than the collection of my wounds.

“All right, gentlemen, today you should be one-third of the way through the project.” Kids groan and take out packets and slap them on the wooden tables. I lost mine. “I'm glad to see that you're catching on. I don't even have to ask.” I turn from Greyson, and Rob's staring at the table. I have no idea what he's thinking, but I'll bet he's got no clue that I'm on to him. If what Dave said is true.

Greyson continues on about the project and shit. I look through the windows cut into the garage doors. There's just a couple of clunkers and Greyson's SUV and a . . . what the fuck? I sit up straight and look harder. Can't be. But it's the same make and model, and there's the window sticker for the gym. I turn. Rob's watching me.

“All right.” Greyson claps. “Get cracking.” Kids get up and get laptops or check out the clunkers. Rob picks up his packet and sets it down in front of me.

“You saw?”

“Yeah. How?”

“Shit, you actually talkin' again?”

I look away.

“Oh, did I hurt your feelings? So sorry.” He picks up his packet and stands. “You
are
a fucking bitch.”

My heart pounds. He's right, but he doesn't get to say that shit to me. Not now. “The fuck you say?”

“You fucking heard me.”

I've seen this face so many times before he fights, his sneer. He rolls up on a kid, gets his shoulders pinned, and his fucking lip creeps up his face. It's weird being on the other side. Weird, but it also pisses me off. I'm a pussy, but not with Rob. “The fuck's that supposed to mean?”

“Really? You're the smart one. Don't need me to tell you.” He juts his chin toward the garage. “We had a fucking deal and you bailed.”

I look over at Greyson, who's across the room looking at some kid's laptop. “Coach Dan had no right to fucking call me out.”

“His gym. He can do what the fuck he wants.”

Fuck, what I'd like to say. Even more, what I'd like to do—drop an elbow into his face, but he'd just fucking deflect
it, then pin me. “So you just agree with whatever he says? And
I'm
the bitch?”

“Fuck you, Tone!” His face beats red, and he loses the sneer. “Least I take care of my shit. You had a deal to stay. But because someone wanted to know shit about you, it was too much. Coach Dan would've helped you. Don't you get that?” He steps to me, and I can feel the anger pouring off him. “Did you take care of Cameron? Get him out of your life? Is that why you don't need the help? Or is he still beating your mom?” He pauses. “And you?”

I shove him as hard as I fucking can. His words fall away, and all I can hear is the thudding in my head. That and Dave's words from last night. Rob trips on a stool and goes down. Greyson flashes in front of me, on his way to Rob.

“Tony? What's going on?”

His words seep through, but I can't say anything.

“It's cool. We were just messing.” Rob laughs and stands. “Tone forgot his packet, and I was dissin' him. My bad.”

The thudding softens, but I'm still amped, still ready to break my hand against Rob's fucking face if I have to. Greyson shrugs. “Well, at least you've got the truck here. Work on that. I'll get your packet on Monday.” He eyeballs me and then smiles. “Relax, Tony.” He walks past and pats my shoulder. I jump but feel my head clear.

“I know, Rob. I know about you and Dave.”

He stares at me but says nothing.

“So it's true? You're dealing?”

He lowers his head and steps closer to me. “One, it ain't that simple. Two, we can't have this conversation here. Let's go out to the truck.”

I have to swallow my anger first, but I say, “All right.”

The truck's a piece of shit through and through. That
much is obvious in the light, as are the rust spots and chipped panel. The engine and transmission are solid, though. “How'd you get it here?” The question just pops out, and I'm pissed at myself for not staying focused.

Rob shakes his head. “The bikers.”

“What?”

“It's not what you think. Last night, I stayed after, talked to Coach Dan—he wants to talk to you about shit, too. Anyway, I stayed to look at the truck, and that's when the Front rolled up.”

This makes no sense. “Why were they there? Nothing but the gym is open this time of year.” Then it hits me. “Or are you bullshitting me and they were there for you?”

Rob closes his eyes and breathes one deep breath. It's like he's calming himself before giving a presentation. “I dealt for them
once
. That's it. One time. I'm not like Dave.”

I believe him. I just do. But still. “Why?”

He turns away. “Why else? I needed the cash. It's not like I wanted to, but some shit's fucked up, and I don't have the kind of scratch I need to cover it.”

“What the fuck's up?”

“Don't worry about it. I got it under control.” Rob looks me over. “How'd you find out?”

“Dave.”

“Huh.” Rob looks down at the engine. “Last night, they asked if I'd seen Dave.”

“He was at my place, waiting.”

“He bring Marcus?”

“Yeah.”

Rob nods and some of my anger fades. Shit, if they put him in the same position as me . . . but, no, he said he needed cash. Did he go to them?

“Anyway, I told them I didn't know where Dave was and they started asking about the truck and we got talking.” He pauses and laughs. “They asked if I knew you. Called you Vo-Tec.”

I shrug just because I want to hear what else happened.

“I told 'em I did, and they said they owed you a favor. What the fuck'd you do?”

I shake my head. “Nuthin', just helped with an empty gas tank.”

“What?”

“Isn't worth it. Go on.”

“Well, they thought it was, cuz Char's dad called somebody, and in like ten minutes the tow truck was there.”

I stare at the truck, this beat-up piece of shit that we're somehow supposed to get up and running. How the fuck are we going to do that? How the fuck am I even going to make through tonight? But, shit, if Chaz had the truck towed here, maybe I don't owe him anymore? No, they've got me regardless.

“There's a deal going down tonight. Bet that's why they were there. Dave was recruiting me.”

“Fuck, tonight? You in?”

“Like I have a choice?”

Rob tries to look at me but turns to the floor. “You don't.” He sighs and shakes his head. “How much?”

“Huh?”

“How much they paying you?”

“Dave said a grand.”

Rob whistles and his eyes bug. “Fuck, Tone.”

“I know. That's a lot of cash.”

“Not what I meant. I only got five hundred.”

My stomach drops, and I grip the hood of the truck to keep steady. “The fuck does that mean?”

“Wish I knew.”

Behind us the door opens, and Greyson calls out, “You boys all right in here?”

Rob says, “Yeah,” but I don't know how.