Blood is Thicker than Rum, Chapter 2

By J-Stain - aka East Coast Hustle


Chapter Two

Cuz picks me up around 8 in his work truck. He works for an insect extermination company whose motto is “We’ll Smoke Your Roaches”. This is the first time I’ve seen him in 10 years other than once for 20 minutes when I randomly ran into him while he was in Bath visiting my uncle and I was Christmas shopping a few blocks away. Hell, last time I saw him he was a skinny little punk who always ratted me out for smoking weed behind the house, which was more funny than annoying since my mom then had to pretend that she cared because she didn’t want him to think smoking weed was OK. He turns to me.

“We’ve gotta make a few stops along the way. I gotta see a couple people.”

“You ain’t gotta lie to kick it, cuz. What you got? Anything good?”

“Yeah, but it’s too expensive. And besides, you should know I’m not gonna let you pay for shit while you’re here.”

Good to know he’s doing well for himself, anyway. After a few stops to take care of his business, we finally end up at The Old Mill, which is one of the coolest clubs in the western hemisphere, and which appears not to have changed one bit in the 10 years since I last graced it with my presence. The club has a huge parking lot split into two parts that are divided by a chickenwire fence. The lot closest to the entrance is covered in gravel – it’s where most of the customers park. The customers whose business at the club involves nothing more than having some drinks and dancing or playing pool. We park in the muddy, poorly-lit back lot. Cuz has something on his mind, but before he can say anything, I hop out and make for the entrance. I’ve got something on MY mind too, and it wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she still worked here. In fact, it would surprise me if she didn’t. I have just enough time to register the presence to my left before I feel the sharp crack across my cheek that signals the disapproval of a woman scorned.

“What the fuck are YOU doing here? You get run out of Seattle by the cops or the competitors? Huh…I take it those Frenchie boys don’t know you’re back or you wouldn’t look half that pretty. Maybe I oughtta give Darryl a call…I’m sure he’d LOVE to see you.”

“Hannah…I was, uh, hoping to find you here…” Shit. That came out even lamer than it sounded in my head.

“My shift ends at 11. You’d BETTER still fucking be here when I get off, or I’ll never talk to you again.”

Well, that answers that. Some things never change, even after 10 years, and the fact that Hannah can’t resist me in spite of hating my guts appears to be one of them. Damn, she’s even more beautiful than I remember. I’d better be careful around her…cats do stupid shit for women like that, and I can’t afford to get myself in any fucked up situations while I’m down here. Cuz comes over to introduce me to his boy Jake, who’s got the drink-slinging duties tonight.

“Jake, this is my cousin J, from the states. Get him whatever he wants and don’t even think about letting HIM pay for anything. Just put it all on my tab.”

“Sure thing, bro. J, what’s your poison?”

“I don’t know, man.” My head’s still full of Hannah’s perfume. “Gimme whatever he’s having.”

Jesus. Hennessey and Cranberry juice with a wedge of lime seems somehow morally wrong to me, but it sure tastes OK. It also tastes like I’d better be careful about how fast I drink these things.

“Hey, J! you any good at pool?”

“Nah, but I’m still better than you. Let’s do it.”

He catches me up on the last 10 years of island life while we’re playing.

I win, handily.

“Hey, we gotta split for a while, J. We gotta go to Frenchtown and meet up with some people.”

“Business or pleasure?”

“Nah, man…just meeting up with some friends. Don’t worry, bro, I’ll let you know when you need to have your shit together. Until then, just relax. Tonight’s on me.”

Did I mention that among all the things I love about St. Thomas, the legality of drinking and driving ranks high on the list? I’ll probably mention it again before we’re through here.

“We gotta be back to the Mill before 11, Cuz. Hannah will ave my balls if I’m not there when she gets off.”

“How do YOU know Hannah, man? I’ve been trying to get with that for a day, bro.”

“Scanlon used to date her older sister. She used to try to get me to pimp on her back in the day, but I was 16 and she was only 13. She didn’t look 13, but still. Last time I saw her I was 19 and she had just turned 16. I had NO problem with that, so we hooked up. Well, turns out she was a virgin, man. I didn’t even know. But you know how they get sometimes after that. Homegirl was straight sprung. Tried to get me to stay on the island instead of going home at the end of the summer, then she started talking about running away to be with me in Seattle. I should have just kept my mouth shut – she’d have realized it wasn’t happening for real soon enough, but I was dumb, and laid down the situation in terms that were, well, maybe a little TOO honest. This is the first time I’ve seen her since then. Apparently, she hasn’t forgotten what a goddamn pimp I am.”

“Damn, bro. Well, we’ll be back in time. I don’t wanna fuck that up for you, J.”

We make the turn into Frenchtown and pull up in front of Betsey’s. Damn, I don’t recognize a single person here, besides Betsey. She recognizes me too…runs over and fawns over me for a few minutes, which she has every right to do seeing as how she’s known me since I was 4 or 5 years old. Cuz leads me over to a corner table full of people and introduces me to the posse. Drew, Scott, Jake, Tim, Eric, and Toby. I might remember half of those five minutes from now…less if one of the pair of drinks in my cousin’s hands is for me. We stay long enough to get everyone together, and for Cuz to take a walk around back with a couple people (after all, when you’re in the Game, it’s always business), then it’s back to the Mill, which should be just starting to go off right about now. After all, when the bars that bother to close don’t do so until 4am, showing up to the party before midnight is not only pointless, but downright counterproductive.

It’s 11:15. Hannah is sitting at the bar, talking to Bartender Jake, and she looks pissed. I try to sneak around to the side bar, make it look like I’ve been there all along and she just didn’t see me, but she fixes me with a glare before I can slink behind the stage area to my left.

“So, thought you could sneak out on me again, huh?”

“Uhh…” Before I can get any farther, she’s cramming her tongue in my mouth. That was easy.

“God damn it, Justin. How long are you here for?”

“A week. And don’t get any crazy ideas this time. I have a business to get back to. A legitimate business.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to be so bitchy when you came in….sometimes things just stay with you, you know?”

Yeah, I know, but this isn’t a conversation I want to have with her right now. Jake saves me by bringing me another drink. He motions for me to come within whispering distance.

“You look like you could use a little something. Here. Be careful. It’s a little better than what you’re probably used to in the states. Oh, and take Hannah with you. That’ll seal the deal for you, though it looks like you’ve probably got that one in the bag anyway. My treat, Welcome back, man. We’ve all heard a lot about you, you know.”

I grab Hannah and head towards the bathrooms. We grab an empty stall and lock the door as she digs out a car key from her purse.

“Here, just take a little bit on the end of this. Trust me, you won’t need much.”

I’ve never been one to listen to reason, especially when it comes to recreational drug use. Ordinarily, coke isn’t my cup of tea, but I am on vacation, and I do have a ridiculously hot girl in a bathroom stall with me who’s all over me and the bag of blow. I scoop a good half-gram onto the car key and take it like a champ. Mistake. Miraculously, I manage to keep from puking, but I’m definitely holding onto the sides of the stall for support and sweating like a whore in church. Hannah has a peculiar mix of amusement and concern on her face, like a mother who has just watched her toddler skin his knee badly enough to cry about it while executing some clumsy playground ninja maneuver.

“You gonna be OK, there, stud?”

“Never been better. Holy fuckballs!”

She moves towards me with a look on her face that leaves no doubts as to her intentions.

“Hold on there, babe. I’m glad to see you too, but I’d like to wait to express my appreciation of your presence until we’re in a more appropriate venue than a bathroom stall.”

This is a lie. I could care less where we are, but there are other things on my agenda that need to be taken care of first, and I know for a fact that I can take care of Hannah any time I want to. She doesn’t even look the slightest bit disappointed. She likes it when I play hard to get.

“If you say so, champ, but you better not fade out on me before the night is through. I’ve been waiting a LONG time for this.”

“Don’t you worry. The LAST thing I want to do is leave you hanging.”

She doesn’t get the joke, which is good because it’s a cruel one. Coke always did turn me into an asshole. Well, more of an asshole.

As we exit the bathroom, I hear the sound of sirens and of vehicles sliding to a stop in the parking lot. I also hear the sound of a girl screaming. Scott runs by me, asks me if I know where Cuz is. I don’t.

“We gotta find him. Ashley’s out in the parking lot and she’s going psycho. She just beat the shit out of his truck. We gotta get shit outta there before the cops get too involved.”

“You go find him. I’ll take care of the truck. Hannah, you got a car here?”

“Yeah…”

“Go get it started and pull around to the back lot. Meet me there. Scott, you get Cuz. Tell him I’ve got his shit safe with me and to meet us at the Greenhouse. Run. Hannah, we have to GO.”

I give the yayo back to Bartender Jake and toss him a tip for my drinks.

“We’ll be at the Greenhouse. Come by later and I’ll get you back for the bumps. I’ve gotta go get Cuz out of some shit right now.”

“Alright…we’ll meet up with you there. Be safe, bro.”

Good advice indeed…too bad I’m not gonna end up heeding it. I run out to the parking lot. The cops are still up by the entrance, talking to Eric and Ashley. I run over to the back lot, and while Hannah’s turning her car around, I quickly go in through the obscured passenger side of the truck and grab what I need from under the seat, as well as a loaded 9mm that the cops probably don’t need to find out about. I don’t even wait to find out if they saw me go into the truck or not. I dive into Hannah’s car and she floors it and we’re out like a boner in sweatpants, headed down the hill into town.

“Damn, baby…I’m glad you’re not psycho like that.”

A look – one raised eyebrow.

“You don’t know that.”


Chapter 3
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