Tap Out (31 page)

“Yeah, but still . . .”

I don't let him finish. “Fuck, never mind what I said. Shit. I need to tell you about what Cam said. About the shit I'm in for tonight.”

Rob closes his mouth and I tell him. He takes it well, the punch that I know it is, and sighs. “I never thought of it that way. Like we got no choice. We're fucking trapped, huh?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“And who the fuck is Johnny B?”

“This shit's way bigger than just the bikers.”

Rob closes his eyes. “All I wanted was a fucking chance. Why can't I have that?”

I feel his pain, through and through. But I don't have an answer that will take it away. “I don't know. But shit, let's
just see how it all plays out. Who knows what could happen?” I realize that's one hell of a loaded statement considering what Mom just asked, but maybe, just maybe there is a way out of this.

“Right, right.”

Rob's words are as empty as I feel. We walk on to the gym without another word.

“Hey, it's the prodigal son.”

I wish I weren't standing behind Rob, because I'd like to see how wide he's smiling. Coach walks to him and wraps him up in a hug. He pats Rob's back and then holds him at arm's length.

“Good to see you again. All we've had is your protégé.” Coach Dan juts his chin toward me. “And, you know, he pales in comparison.”

Rob's ears flush red.

“Aww, Coach, you're gonna make him cry.” Amir crosses the room and pounds fists with Rob. “Long time, man.”

“Yeah, shit's been crazy.” Rob finally speaks and ducks his head.

“Crazy's how we live. You know?” Phil walks over and he clasps Rob as Coach did. Then the entire room welcomes Rob back and he goes to each. I slide off my shoes and join Phil and Amir on the mat.

“So what's the deal? How'd you get him back?” Phil arches his back and pins his head to his shoulder blades.

“Some shit's changed, so . . .” I don't know how else to explain without giving the details.

Amir and Phil nod, though. They get it. It's nice to have that.

We roll and Rob's panting about halfway through. By the end he's whipped and lying in a pool of sweat, but he smiles up at me. “Thanks, Tone.”

“For kicking your ass?” I help him up.

“For getting me back.”

“It's what you needed.”

He nods, looks around the gym and appears as if he's seeing it for the first time.

“Rob, Tony, nice work.” Coach Dan walks over while the rest are packing up.

“Thanks, Coach,” we say in unison.

He claps our shoulders. “Now don't be strangers, especially you.” He leans close to Rob. “We've got some work to do.”

Rob nods and shoots me a look. It's painful to see because I know what he's thinking:
What's the point?
Wish I knew.

“Yo, is that Dave's car?” Amir asks the room and everyone crowds the window, including Coach. My mind wipes clean, because if he's right, I'm fucked. Rob shoots me another look and we join the rest.

Sure enough, Dave's black Mustang is parked across the street. “That little dick motherfucker.” Amir charges out the door. We all follow, but Coach catches him and grabs his arm. He says something and Amir nods. Then Coach Dan enters the street.

We gather on the sidewalk and steam billows up from our heads. Coach walks with his shoulders pinned, and Dave rolls down the window. Music spills out. “Well, well, Military Dan, himself.”

Coach continues to Dave's car as if he hasn't heard the insult and tilts his body so that he is level with Dave's face.

Dave's laughter punctuates the air and Dan stiffens. He looks over his shoulder, toward us and my heart drops. Next to
me, Rob shifts his weight from foot to foot. His eyes are bugging. Coach turns back to Dave, says something, and all I can see is the edge of Dave's head nodding. He's either confirming what Coach is saying or agreeing with his orders. Based on Dave, I'm sure it's the first. Dan walks away from the car and doesn't take his eyes off me the entire time he crosses the street.

He hits the sidewalk, and the crew shoots questions. “What's up Coach?”

“You want us to go fuck 'em up?”

I swallow and prepare to take the beating.

Coach stands before me, and as much as I want to look him in the eye, I can't. Even now, when I know what's coming, I pussy out.

“Do you want to tell me what's going on, Tony? Or do you want me to repeat what Dave just said?”

I stare at the ground and watch Rob's feet turn inward, like a child's.

“Okay, since you won't talk . . .” Coach takes a deep breath. “Gentlemen, apparently Dave is here for Tony.” The statement hangs in the air and I feel the guys edge toward me. Someone murmurs, “What?”

“It seems as if they are
working
together. I'm not positive what that means, but I'm not stupid and can draw my own conclusions based on what I know of Dave.”

Rob twists a toe. Fuck, I hope he's not going to say shit. So far, he's in the clear. I'll keep it that way. No need for us to both get thrown under the bus.

“We are, Coach. Dave isn't lying.” I look from him to the guys. “I need the money, that's all. Not like he and I are boys.” I catch Amir's eye and he winces before looking away. Coach's face is stone, completely unreadable. He uncrosses his arms from his chest.

“So, you're dealing? That's how you decided to make money? Not by getting a job, doing something honest? You've got mechanic skills! Come on, Tony!” Coach's face is a scowl.

“You don't understand. It's not like I could do that. Not with my mom and her boyfriend and their shit.”

Coach waves a dismissive hand in my face. “I don't want to hear your excuses. Here I thought you were learning something from me. This place isn't just about rolling and striking. It's about pride.” Coach looks up at the sky and the sadness I feel is as black. “This is how you repay me?”

My faces flushes. I'm pissed at him for not understanding, and embarrassed at getting called out in front of everyone. But mostly I'm angry because this isn't my fucking fault. Dave shouldn't have showed up. And everything I said, those aren't fucking excuses. I'd like to see Coach do any better with my piece of shit life. Who the fuck is he to say shit about what I know? Pride? I can't afford any. “I never asked you for anything.”

Coach Dan's face hardens. “No, you didn't. Ostrander and Rob did.” He looks over at Rob and so do I. He's on the verge of spilling, I can see it. He knows now that Dave didn't leak his name, just mine, but he knows that I could drop him in this hole with me. And his pride would make him jump before I got the chance. But I'm not like that. “You're right, Coach.”

“So this is how you repay a friend, by selling drugs with the only kid I ever threw out of my gym?”

I can't argue. “Yes.”

The guys murmur, but some words are clear. “Muthafucka.” “Take his ass out.”

Coach sighs. “There's only one option then, Tony.” He pauses, looks back at Dave's car. “And I'm afraid I know what you're going to decide.” He frowns but I say nothing.
“Your choice, us or Dave. Because now that I know what you're up to, I can't trust you unless you sever ties with him.”

I knew he was going to make this request, and I don't blame him. Fuck, I don't blame any of the crew for wanting to beat my ass. I'm not some MMA fighter, and not some kid who goes off to college.

I look at those who will meet my eyes and say, “I'm sorry. This isn't how I wanted it to go.” I swallow and look at Rob. “I'm out.” I step around the group and into the street. No one tries to stop me. No one even yells my name.

Dave grins. “'Bout fucking time.”

I get in and refuse to look over, and I don't look back once we've driven away.

J
ohnny B's isn't visible from the road, and Dave has to slow to a crawl to find the entrance. We turn down the driveway that's carved through the trees, and it feels like we're being swallowed. I squeeze the door handle, but the trees end and the property comes into view. The house is enormous, set on top of a hill out in the middle of farm country. “Damn.”

“Exactly,” Dave says, “this place is the
tits
.”

He parks and I look at the cars next to us: Mercedes and a Jag. Unreal.

Dave's spraying on cologne. “Want some?”

I know I probably reek, but masking the smell isn't going make me any more appealing. But who the fuck do I need to be attractive for? “Why the fuck you need that?”

“We do our job and then party.” He juts his chin toward the house and through the floor to ceiling windows are men in suits and women wearing next to nothing. A few don't even have tops on. One guy grabs a woman around the arm and pulls her close. He speaks into her ear and she shakes her head, tries to pull her arm back, but he looks at it and laughs. He lets go, but as she turns, he smacks her on the ass.

And then it clicks. This is the home of Johnny B, the Front's supplier. The same man who Charity was turned over
to by her father. I'm about to walk into a whorehouse.

Dave tosses his cologne into the middle console and pops his collar. “Stay with the ugly chicks, they won't say no.” He reaches back and opens the compartment in his trunk, pulls out a black bag and says, “Not like they have a choice.”

It takes every shred of willpower I possess to join him, because I feel lower than I ever have. Living in the trailer sucks. Having my mom and no father blows. Losing my chance at a scholarship and getting tossed from the gym are terrible. But if I go with Dave, I'm one of them, a fucking dirtbag dealer, white trash to the bone. If I held any shred of doubt, this will tear it away. Dave crosses the car and I watch him. Fuck, I wish the truth hurt more because it might help, might give me a way out. But another fact remains: I've got nothing to lose.

I step out and follow Dave.

We cross to the front door and Dave turns to me. “Actually, your gym gear is good. It helps. You need to look as bad-ass as you can. Stare down every fucker you see, just not Johnny. You represent the Agnostics now.”

A butler opens the door and takes Dave's coat, but Dave tells him he's keeping the bag. The butler just frowns at me. People swivel to get a look and I immediately look at the floor, embarrassed by my appearance. It was one thing to see it all from outside, but up close and personal, I look downright homeless by comparison. How's that bad-ass?

“Do your fucking job, Antioch.”

We move toward a bar in the corner and I pin back my shoulders, force myself to stare down every man that looks my way. A few begin to smile, but as I draw closer their lips pull into lines. They acknowledge Dave with a head nod and look away from me. Feels pretty fucking powerful.

“What you drinking, Dave?” The bartender grabs a glass and waits.

“Vodka tonic.”

“All right. And for you, sir?”

It takes me a second to realize he's calling me
Sir
, but I manage to say, “The same.”

The bartender nods, makes the drinks, and hands them over. Dave stuffs a twenty into his tip jar. I bite the straw in my drink and take in the crowd.

“Some hot ass here, huh?”

I can't disagree with him. The women are hot, but I can't shake loose what they really are. And I can't fathom Charity ever doing this. I look away and see Christmas decorations. How the fuck did I miss them on the way in? White lights and ribbons are draped along the bar and ceiling. Trees are propped in each corner, decorated in gold and white. It's like I'm standing in the pages of one of those magazines, except, of course, for the middle-aged men and prostitutes. Everyone's talking and touching and looking toward the stairs.

“Which one's Johnny?”

Dave takes a long swallow. “He likes to stay upstairs.”

I go to ask why, but see that Dave is staring at a guy who hasn't moved from the foot of the stairs. He touches his watch and then thrusts a thumb over his shoulder. Dave smiles. “Right on time.” He turns to me and again his eyes are hard. “Remember you are supposed to be my protection, so even though I could snap you with one fucking hand, you need to be one tough motherfucker.”

I should just tell him to go fuck himself and let him do his business with Johnny B alone. But he'd either break me like he just said he could or leave me here and I'd have to
walk home. Home. There's nothing there, either. All right, let's see how tough I can be.