Highway from Hell
Chapter Seven
A hand reached through the kitchen and grabbed the hand holding the knife before Joe's skin was broken. "Cool off Dawson," Trey warned softly, removing the knife from Dawson's hand.
"He's Hardy's kid!" Dawson complained in outrage.
"Not anymore," Trey stated. "Now, he's mine. As far as the Hardy's are concerned, Joe died of an overdose while in rehab."
"Huh?" Dawson demanded, looking at Joe in confusion. A few of the other party goers were also demanding an explanation. Joe looked at Trey, swaying a bit.
Trey picked up something and handed it to Joe who snatched it from Trey's hand, then swaggered back to the bedroom and closed the door, leaving Trey to deal with his guests.
Joe sat on the bed and looked at the specially formed "cigarette." It looked incredibly messy and he screwed up his nose as he thought about how much trouble he had gotten into. He sighed miserably as he considered sneaking out and going home. He was never going to be able to keep up the charade. He stood up, but fell back down immediately and reached for the waste can. As he retched, he realized that for the time being, he was stuck. A few minutes later, he took his fix and headed into the bathroom, where he wrapped it in toilet paper and flushed it down the toilet.
The next morning, Joe awoke feeling much better. He got out of bed and put on his clothes. When he went into the living room, he saw Trey already awake and lifting weights in the corner. When he saw Joe, he eased the weights back up onto their bar and sat up. "How you feeling?" he asked.
"Better," Joe replied, standing still and looking at Trey warily.
"Go grab some cereal," Trey told him. "I'll see about getting you some fresh clothes. After you've had a shower, I'll take you out and introduce you around. No one will try what Dawson did after today," he promised Joe.
Joe nodded and walked into the kitchen. On the counter were two boxes of cereal and some bananas. Joe scrounged around for a bowl and spoon then poured some flakes into the bowl. He cut a banana into pieces with his spoon, then went to the refrigerator
and took out some milk and a carton of orange juice. He poured the milk over his cereal and grabbed a glass and filled it with OJ before returning the milk and rest of the OJ to the fridge. He ate his breakfast and dropped the empty bowl, spoon and glass into the sink, then went back into the living room.
Trey handed Joe a box as he sat down. "That should be enough to last you a week," he told Joe, who opened the box and saw a bag of powder, some foil and a small glass vial. "Do you know how to prepare it for smoking?" Trey asked. Joe nodded.
"Okay then," Trey said. "Go take care of yourself. We'll leave in an hour and a half," he added, looking at his watch. "I put some clean clothes on your bed," he added.
Joe stood up and started toward the bedroom, but paused in mid-step and turned around to look at Trey. "Ken mentioned me working for you," Joe said. "What do I have to do?"
"We'll discuss it tomorrow, Kiddo," Trey said, smiling patiently. "Today, you just get the feel of the neighborhood." Joe looked at Trey uncertainly, but finally nodded his agreement before turning around and leaving the living room.
Joe closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. He closed his eyes, fear and doubt crowding his mind once again. He heaved a worried sigh and opened his eyes, looking at the cigar box in his hand which held the source of his present problem. Knowing Trey would probably be spying on him and checking to see that he really was as pathetic as he seemed to be, he opened the box and put a bit of powder into the glass vial. He laid a piece of foil on the chest and held the vial up, shaking it to even the powder out. Then he took the lighter and flicked it on, holding the glass vial over the flame.
The door opened and Trey walked in, two towels on his arm. He smiled as he saw Joe preparing his fix. "Sorry," Trey said. "I forgot your towels." He set them on the bed and left, closing the door firmly behind him.
Joe smiled, relaxing a bit, sure his first trial of the day had passed. He finished heating the mixture, careful not to let the mixture turn to liquid. He poured the gelatinous mixture on the foil and looked at his first blob. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and picked up the foil.
Snatching up the towels, he walked into the bathroom and put the towels on the hamper. He rolled the ends of the foil together, wrapped it in toilet paper and dropped it in the toilet. He slowly undressed after first closing and locking the bathroom door, then flushed the toilet. He brushed his teeth, then turned on the water in the shower and stepped into the spray. Several minutes later, he turned off the water, got out and toweled off. He returned to the bedroom and started putting on the clothes Trey had left.
He pulled the blue jeans on but they were so tight, he ended up lying back on the bed and sucking in his gut before he could get the zipper pulled up and the button closed. He sat up and picked up a yellow tee shirt and pulled it on. Looking down he saw he was wearing a smiley face which had been printed with a sardonic expression. Joe smirked because he actually liked the shirt, wishing he had one at home like it.
He retrieved his sunglasses from the nightstand and put them on then went into the living room where Trey was waiting. Once there, Trey handed him a pair of shoes and socks. Joe sat down on the sofa and put them on and then they were ready to leave.
They left the apartment, going downstairs, passing a large red headed, freckled youth going up the stairs, carrying a box of clothes and puffing heavily. A few feet behind him was a brown-headed young man wearing a black muscle tee and sporting a healthy tan. He nodded curtly to Trey and Joe as they passed, and continued his climb up the stairs, toting a nineteen inch television.
Trey led Joe outside and into the first building on their right. "We're going to work our way all the way around the street," Trey informed Joe, putting a hand on his shoulder as they entered the building.
The place turned out to be a diner. There were nine customers in the place and two waitresses. A bearded, balding man could be seen over the counter, frying up burgers.
All talking stopped when they went inside. Although in a bad part of town, they were still in Bayport where Joe and Frank were well known as detectives in their own right.
One of the customers stood up. He was a sleazy looking individual with oily black hair and a black mustache. His brown eyes were full of suspicion as they looked at Joe. He picked up his half empty cup of coffee and spit into it, his mouth black from chewing tobacco. "What's he doing here?" he demanded of Trey, his eyes never leaving Joe.
"I'd like you to meet my new," he paused, searching for a word which would imply hands off, "companion. Joe, this is Danny. The guy at the first table is Billy and the guys at the next table, left to right, are Tony, Jeff, Peter and Mike. At the last table is Steve, Kurt, and Matt. Jenny and Stacey are the waitresses and Ludo is the cook."
Ludo lifted a spatula in greeting, not even turning to look at Joe. "Jenny, Stacey," Trey spoke to the girls, "anything Joe wants goes on my tab."
"Sure thing," Jenny said, coming over to them. "Hi Joe. Welcome to the neighborhood." Joe nodded at her.
"Are you all crazy?" Danny demanded angrily. "He's a dick! Give him half a chance and he'll stick us all behind bars," he added, glaring at Trey for bringing Joe into the diner.
"Chill," Trey ordered. "Joe has," he paused for effect, "changed. He's working for me now. Spread the word," he added to everyone. "Joe gets left alone."
"But..." Danny started, but his mouth snapped shut, his eyes widening as Trey pulled out his automatic and placed the barrel between Danny's eyes.
"But?" Trey asked calmly.
Danny swallowed nervously. "But welcome to Gragg Street," he whispered to Joe. Joe stared at Danny from behind his shades, his expression having never altered since his entrance into the diner.
Trey put his gun back in his holster and pulled his windbreaker together at the front. "We've got other places to go," Trey said, looking down into Jenny's green eyes and smiling tenderly. He took a hand and touched her cheek, kissing her lips before pulling back and taking Joe's arm in his hand.
"Let's go Kiddo," Trey said. Trey and Joe spent the entire morning going from one place to the next. The reception they received varied little from the one they had gotten at the diner. Joe caught Danny staring at him a couple of times. Danny had gone outside to lean against the building. Joe didn't think Danny would try anything in front of Trey, he and most of Gragg Street seemed to be afraid of him, but Joe had no doubt that if Danny got the chance, he would kill him in a heartbeat.
By two o'clock, they were back where they had started. They had lunch in the diner and Trey took off with Jenny, who had just finished her shift, after he had finished eating.
Joe left the diner alone and went back to the apartment complex. He was starting up the stairs when a strong arm attached itself to the back of Joe's neck and another latched onto the upper part of Joe's right arm. "Keep going," a rough voice whispered in Joe's ear.
Chapter Seven
A hand reached through the kitchen and grabbed the hand holding the knife before Joe's skin was broken. "Cool off Dawson," Trey warned softly, removing the knife from Dawson's hand.
"He's Hardy's kid!" Dawson complained in outrage.
"Not anymore," Trey stated. "Now, he's mine. As far as the Hardy's are concerned, Joe died of an overdose while in rehab."
"Huh?" Dawson demanded, looking at Joe in confusion. A few of the other party goers were also demanding an explanation. Joe looked at Trey, swaying a bit.
Trey picked up something and handed it to Joe who snatched it from Trey's hand, then swaggered back to the bedroom and closed the door, leaving Trey to deal with his guests.
Joe sat on the bed and looked at the specially formed "cigarette." It looked incredibly messy and he screwed up his nose as he thought about how much trouble he had gotten into. He sighed miserably as he considered sneaking out and going home. He was never going to be able to keep up the charade. He stood up, but fell back down immediately and reached for the waste can. As he retched, he realized that for the time being, he was stuck. A few minutes later, he took his fix and headed into the bathroom, where he wrapped it in toilet paper and flushed it down the toilet.
The next morning, Joe awoke feeling much better. He got out of bed and put on his clothes. When he went into the living room, he saw Trey already awake and lifting weights in the corner. When he saw Joe, he eased the weights back up onto their bar and sat up. "How you feeling?" he asked.
"Better," Joe replied, standing still and looking at Trey warily.
"Go grab some cereal," Trey told him. "I'll see about getting you some fresh clothes. After you've had a shower, I'll take you out and introduce you around. No one will try what Dawson did after today," he promised Joe.
Joe nodded and walked into the kitchen. On the counter were two boxes of cereal and some bananas. Joe scrounged around for a bowl and spoon then poured some flakes into the bowl. He cut a banana into pieces with his spoon, then went to the refrigerator
and took out some milk and a carton of orange juice. He poured the milk over his cereal and grabbed a glass and filled it with OJ before returning the milk and rest of the OJ to the fridge. He ate his breakfast and dropped the empty bowl, spoon and glass into the sink, then went back into the living room.
Trey handed Joe a box as he sat down. "That should be enough to last you a week," he told Joe, who opened the box and saw a bag of powder, some foil and a small glass vial. "Do you know how to prepare it for smoking?" Trey asked. Joe nodded.
"Okay then," Trey said. "Go take care of yourself. We'll leave in an hour and a half," he added, looking at his watch. "I put some clean clothes on your bed," he added.
Joe stood up and started toward the bedroom, but paused in mid-step and turned around to look at Trey. "Ken mentioned me working for you," Joe said. "What do I have to do?"
"We'll discuss it tomorrow, Kiddo," Trey said, smiling patiently. "Today, you just get the feel of the neighborhood." Joe looked at Trey uncertainly, but finally nodded his agreement before turning around and leaving the living room.
Joe closed the bedroom door and leaned against it. He closed his eyes, fear and doubt crowding his mind once again. He heaved a worried sigh and opened his eyes, looking at the cigar box in his hand which held the source of his present problem. Knowing Trey would probably be spying on him and checking to see that he really was as pathetic as he seemed to be, he opened the box and put a bit of powder into the glass vial. He laid a piece of foil on the chest and held the vial up, shaking it to even the powder out. Then he took the lighter and flicked it on, holding the glass vial over the flame.
The door opened and Trey walked in, two towels on his arm. He smiled as he saw Joe preparing his fix. "Sorry," Trey said. "I forgot your towels." He set them on the bed and left, closing the door firmly behind him.
Joe smiled, relaxing a bit, sure his first trial of the day had passed. He finished heating the mixture, careful not to let the mixture turn to liquid. He poured the gelatinous mixture on the foil and looked at his first blob. He wrinkled his nose in distaste and picked up the foil.
Snatching up the towels, he walked into the bathroom and put the towels on the hamper. He rolled the ends of the foil together, wrapped it in toilet paper and dropped it in the toilet. He slowly undressed after first closing and locking the bathroom door, then flushed the toilet. He brushed his teeth, then turned on the water in the shower and stepped into the spray. Several minutes later, he turned off the water, got out and toweled off. He returned to the bedroom and started putting on the clothes Trey had left.
He pulled the blue jeans on but they were so tight, he ended up lying back on the bed and sucking in his gut before he could get the zipper pulled up and the button closed. He sat up and picked up a yellow tee shirt and pulled it on. Looking down he saw he was wearing a smiley face which had been printed with a sardonic expression. Joe smirked because he actually liked the shirt, wishing he had one at home like it.
He retrieved his sunglasses from the nightstand and put them on then went into the living room where Trey was waiting. Once there, Trey handed him a pair of shoes and socks. Joe sat down on the sofa and put them on and then they were ready to leave.
They left the apartment, going downstairs, passing a large red headed, freckled youth going up the stairs, carrying a box of clothes and puffing heavily. A few feet behind him was a brown-headed young man wearing a black muscle tee and sporting a healthy tan. He nodded curtly to Trey and Joe as they passed, and continued his climb up the stairs, toting a nineteen inch television.
Trey led Joe outside and into the first building on their right. "We're going to work our way all the way around the street," Trey informed Joe, putting a hand on his shoulder as they entered the building.
The place turned out to be a diner. There were nine customers in the place and two waitresses. A bearded, balding man could be seen over the counter, frying up burgers.
All talking stopped when they went inside. Although in a bad part of town, they were still in Bayport where Joe and Frank were well known as detectives in their own right.
One of the customers stood up. He was a sleazy looking individual with oily black hair and a black mustache. His brown eyes were full of suspicion as they looked at Joe. He picked up his half empty cup of coffee and spit into it, his mouth black from chewing tobacco. "What's he doing here?" he demanded of Trey, his eyes never leaving Joe.
"I'd like you to meet my new," he paused, searching for a word which would imply hands off, "companion. Joe, this is Danny. The guy at the first table is Billy and the guys at the next table, left to right, are Tony, Jeff, Peter and Mike. At the last table is Steve, Kurt, and Matt. Jenny and Stacey are the waitresses and Ludo is the cook."
Ludo lifted a spatula in greeting, not even turning to look at Joe. "Jenny, Stacey," Trey spoke to the girls, "anything Joe wants goes on my tab."
"Sure thing," Jenny said, coming over to them. "Hi Joe. Welcome to the neighborhood." Joe nodded at her.
"Are you all crazy?" Danny demanded angrily. "He's a dick! Give him half a chance and he'll stick us all behind bars," he added, glaring at Trey for bringing Joe into the diner.
"Chill," Trey ordered. "Joe has," he paused for effect, "changed. He's working for me now. Spread the word," he added to everyone. "Joe gets left alone."
"But..." Danny started, but his mouth snapped shut, his eyes widening as Trey pulled out his automatic and placed the barrel between Danny's eyes.
"But?" Trey asked calmly.
Danny swallowed nervously. "But welcome to Gragg Street," he whispered to Joe. Joe stared at Danny from behind his shades, his expression having never altered since his entrance into the diner.
Trey put his gun back in his holster and pulled his windbreaker together at the front. "We've got other places to go," Trey said, looking down into Jenny's green eyes and smiling tenderly. He took a hand and touched her cheek, kissing her lips before pulling back and taking Joe's arm in his hand.
"Let's go Kiddo," Trey said. Trey and Joe spent the entire morning going from one place to the next. The reception they received varied little from the one they had gotten at the diner. Joe caught Danny staring at him a couple of times. Danny had gone outside to lean against the building. Joe didn't think Danny would try anything in front of Trey, he and most of Gragg Street seemed to be afraid of him, but Joe had no doubt that if Danny got the chance, he would kill him in a heartbeat.
By two o'clock, they were back where they had started. They had lunch in the diner and Trey took off with Jenny, who had just finished her shift, after he had finished eating.
Joe left the diner alone and went back to the apartment complex. He was starting up the stairs when a strong arm attached itself to the back of Joe's neck and another latched onto the upper part of Joe's right arm. "Keep going," a rough voice whispered in Joe's ear.