I will always be ready for you.
It had taken a while to get there, but I was confident enough in myself and in him to know that this was true.
Chapter 16
Nassir
I was trying really hard not to touch anything or to brush up against any of the kids filling the dingy little club. I was used to dark and dank places. I was used to filth and grime, but there was something about all these kids milling about with unwashed bodies and spiked-up hair, when they all clearly originated from the suburbs, that somehow made the environment of the dive bar seem extra revolting. On top of the dirty bodies and the suspicious looks that kept getting cast my way, the blast of angry guitars and wailing from the emaciated-looking singer on the tiny stage were enough to have my ears bleeding. I distracted myself by texting Key and was annoyed even further by her lack of response. With the club closed so we could dry it out and repair the pipes, I knew she was at the house and couldn’t figure out why she was ignoring me unless it was just to be contrary. She didn’t love it that I refused to give her a play-by-play of my actions or that it had to be that way for her own good and my peace of mind.
I could think of a hundred and one places I would rather be, and just as I was about to give up thinking that maybe Noe’s information had been dated and that maybe the elusive Squirrel had hopped a train out of town, I caught sight of a young man coming out of the bathroom at the back of the bar. He was rubbing the back of his hand across his face and the way his nose was twitching not only told me that he was probably high as a kite from doing rails in the bathroom, but made him look even more like the animal he was nicknamed after. The kid had dreadlocks and a vest covered in rivets and studs, making him look like a caricature of a punk rocker, and he was oblivious to my approach as I wound my way through thrashing bodies and tried to tune out the antiestablishment battle cry coming from the stage.
I was getting hard, side-eyed looks and I heard the words “cop” and “narc” whispered loudly by more than one clueless child. I don’t know how anyone, even the young and innocent, could ever mistake me for one of the good guys, but as long as they moved out of my way and let me get at my target, I didn’t bother to correct them.
When I reached Squirrel he was wildly bobbing his head up and down to a beat that had nothing to do with the noise coming from the band. His pupils were dilated so big that his eyes looked like shiny, black doll eyes and his mouth was twitching excitedly like he couldn’t control it. He was waving his hands in the air over his head and I think maybe he was trying to sing along with the band, but really it just amounted to him screaming nonsense at the top of his lungs.
I fought down the urge to smack him across the face for his sheer silliness and instead put a hand in the center of his chest and pushed him backward. He was so messed up that he lost his balance and tipped over onto his backside on the dirty bar floor.
“Hey!” His outrage was given fuel by the drugs in his system and a couple of the other grungy, crazy-haired kids stopped their partying to take offense at the fact that one of their own was being pushed around.
I heard muttering and felt the attention shift to what was happening between me and the gutter punk, so I reached out a hand, which the kid took, to help him to his feet.
Stupid.
Once I had his wrist clasped in my hand, I yanked it around the front of his body, spinning him around so that his back was to my front and my hand wrapped fully and firmly around his throat. I moved the kid toward the doors that led to the back alley off the side of the bar. I heard him wheezing and saw the edge of his very puffy cheeks already starting to turn bright red from a lack of oxygen.
“If you struggle it just makes things worse. I just want to talk to you.” I had my fingers tight enough to feel the air trapped in his lungs. Fingers clawed at my hand but I just kept moving the kid through the doors, and once we were outside, I backed him into the brick wall and held him there. I narrowed my eyes and told him, “Listen Squirrel, I have questions and you have the answers. You tell me what I want to know and I go away and you can go back to doing blow and acting like an idiot. Sound like a plan?”
I released his throat, which had him folded over and coughing dramatically. I curled my lip up in distaste and crossed my arms over my chest. First a disgusting club and now a repugnant and grotesque back alley. I was really glad I had left the designer duds at home for this outing. As if to validate that thought, at that moment a big, well-fed rat ran right between me and the kid with a squeak of alarm.
“You a cop?” The kid gasped the word out and his chubby cheeks started to fill as he struggled to suck in air.
Impatient, I snapped, “Do I look like a fucking cop?”
The kid let his head roll against the wall behind him and lifted filthy fingers to stroke at the circle of red marks I left around his neck.
“What do you want, dude?”
Dude? Was this kid for real? No one called me dude. I took a step closer to him. “I’m looking for a friend of yours. A kid named Tyler, and I need to find him tonight.”
Even as hyped up on drugs as he was, I saw the recognition flash in the kid’s blown-out gaze. His mouth started twitching and he began trying to slide along the wall like I wouldn’t notice him moving away from me. The metal studs on his vest scraped noisily as he shifted and I didn’t even bother to negotiate or barter.
I pulled my fist back and clocked the young man right in the nose. With the wall of the building behind him, his head didn’t have anywhere to go, so his skull bounced off the bricks as his eyes crossed and his nose started to bleed from the blow. I didn’t hit him hard enough to break anything, but if he didn’t get it together in the next minute or so, that would change.