The next chapter of Tim and Trish 's relationship is over on her POV: 'Have What He Will', chapter two. Tim won't be analyzing it.
This is a little introduction to a certain member of the gang, for those who read my Evie fics and wondered why Tim would take in someone connected to the enemy... And if you don't read that, quick reminder - Buzz Richardson was the boyfriend of the girl (back in chapter 12) who two timed both him and Tim, with the leader of the River Kings, resulting in all three of them hating each other.
I'm half way up the stairs when I realize why the kid looks familiar. It ain't what I was thinking, that he's been here before, for one of Curly's 'poker nights' - which look more like 'Go Fish', the way those little losers play, four or five of 'em round our kitchen table, stinking up the place with their Kools and their joints and their funky fifteen year old armpits.
I walk past 'em, telling Curly to keep the freaking noise down 'cause I only came home to grab a few hours shut eye and I'll be swinging for the first lousy pissant who wakes me up, but then, on the stairs, I hear one of them complain,
"Richardson, you lousy cheat!"
And now I realize why I know that one.
Standing in the doorway, I'm sure. A bit older than Curly. Eyes like Sylvia. Built like his brother – which means big. Apparently he ain't inherited the skill with cards though and the kid who complained is still bitching that he cheated.
"Piss off." I point at the three on the other side of the table. "You, you an' you. Beat it!" They don't need telling twice, although Curly ain't exactly happy. Baby Richardson starts to get up too. I fix my eye on him. "Did I say 'you'?" He sits back down. I nod, then turn my attention to Curly. "A word, Curl."
In the front room I round on him, ask him what the hell he's thinking, bringing that in the house. Don't he know who that is?
"Yeah. Dallas is banging his sister, so what? He wants..."
I clip Curly round the head. "You think I give a shit who Dallas is banging? His brother tried to work me over, you remember that?"
Curly is rubbing his ear like a sulky kid. "Trey hates him, that's what I was tryin' to tell ya. He wants to talk to you about his brother's gear –"
I leave Curly standing and march back to Baby Richardson. "You know why your brother an' me got bad blood?"
"You banged his broad. So what?" He sniffs disgustingly.
"So, whatever, I don't think he's gonna be too happy, you hanging 'round here."
"Who gives a fuck if he's happy, or not!" the kid explodes. "He ain't never bothered with me, so why should I care?"
This is one angry little man, sitting at my kitchen table.
He sniffs again. "He's a dick. He had a good thing goin' an' he got careless. Got himself hauled in last week an' now we're gonna be sitting in the freaking dark for a month, 'cause my old lady can't make the rent and the electric, with both Buzz and Dad inside." For a split second, it looks like his lip is wobbling, but he gets himself under control. He stares at me, defiant as all hell. "I know where he hides his stash. Can you take care of it, if'n I give you his contacts?"
I want to laugh out loud.
Buzz will kill him. I would kill Curly if he did that to me. I am more than slightly suspicious.
"Why don't you make the deals, you got all the gear?"
He shrugs, wipes the back of his hand across his nose. "I tried. I went to one of the places. They took the stuff and kicked me out."
Poor baby, the nasty drug dealer was mean to you? Now I'm having a real hard time keeping a straight face. I ask him what cut he wants. He don't know what to say. I offer him seventy - thirty in my favor, tell him I'm being generous. He don't factor in the ownership of the merchandise, or the contacts, which I won't exactly be able to forget, once he's told me.
He asks me if his cut will be enough to cover an electric bill.
I ain't never left Curly and Angel in trouble like that, not that I've been that unlucky when it comes to jail time. And I guess I have to acknowledge that ol' Ron is a stay-at-home kind of drunk, most of the time. It wouldn't hurt Dallas to get his hands on some dough, to get the lights on at his broad's house, but that won't occur to him. So it's down to this kid to do for his family now.
I tell Baby Richardson it depends on how much stuff Buzz left and he offers to go get it right away and show me.
No. It can wait, I tell him. I want to watch him a while, make sure he's on the level. Tempting as it is, I'll put my own feelers out first, see who's missing their supplier – Frankie will know a couple of guys who know a couple of guys – make sure that what Trey is feeding me is kosher.
In the meantime, I tell him, he can go on a run with my boys. I got that liquor, that Dallas hooked me up with, to dispose of and I want to see how this kid performs on a job.
This can only get sweeter with time; much as I like the idea of getting a quick one over Buzz, the thought of recruiting his kid brother long term is even more appealing.
Curly is still looking at me resentfully. Like I didn't just save him from losing all his dough. I saw his hand, he was on a hiding to nothing.
For such a smart guy, Tim has a blind spot when it comes to Curly...
