Page 2 of Blaze & Ajax
“Thanks.” I took it from his offered hand and pulled a drag from it, holding in the smoke for several seconds before blowing it out and handing the blunt back to him.
“He pay what we asked for?”
“Yep.” I counted out Storm’s share on the coffee table. “One thousand, four hundred, and forty.”
“Dope. I’ve got someAdderallandXanaxfor next week. Come on by on Wednesday night.”
“I’ll be here.”
He took another drag off the blunt, looking at me with creamy brown eyes. “Have you tried to reach out to your mom? To, you know, live a life of luxury again, instead of selling for me? It’s been years, man. Maybe she’s forgiven you. She could at least give you your ID back.”
“I tried once, two years ago. She made it clear she wanted nothing to do with me and didn’t let me get a fucking word in edgewise. It’s been five years, man. There’s no reconciling.”
Only Storm knew of my story because I’d gone to him when Mom kicked me out of the house. He’d still been living at home with his family, and they let me stay for a couple of days before I was on my own.
Storm also knew what I’d done to get the boot, and he still stuck it out with me. But over the years, we sort of drifted apart, not as close as we once were after we became more supplier and seller than friends. Now it was more of a professional relationship.
“You can hang if you want,” he said as I stood.
Since dealing, I’d kept my walls up when I was around Storm. I couldn’t explain why. I had walls for everyone I met, but it shouldn’t have been like that for Storm. He really did try to reach me, but I kept pulling away.
“Can’t. Gonna meet up with a friend. We’ll hang next weekend. There’s a club I wanna check out,” I said, but we both knew I wouldn’t reach out.
“Sounds good.”
We slapped hands, shook, then fist-bumped.
“Later,” I said.
My pocket felt heavy with almost a thousand in cash, giving me a sense of warmth and security that I could pay my bills this month, especially with rent due in eight days.
When I left the apartment building, I hopped onto the bus again, which would take me closer to Old Town Mall, where I would meet Cueball and Stone, who were skating.
Fifteen minutes later, I reluctantly left the warmth of the bus and stepped out into the cold again. I shivered and shoved my cold hands into my jeans pockets as I walked toward the abandoned outdoor shopping mall. It’d been neglected since the 1980s, falling to ruin as the plant life tried to take over, turning it literally into a concrete jungle. It was like right out of some dystopian movie.
Years ago, some skaters gutted a couple of buildings and turned them into a place where people could skate inside to get out of the cold or snow.
I was the only one out of all of us who hated to skate. Give me a motorcycle or a sports car, driving fast on the highway or windy road any day over trying to balance on a narrow piece of fucking wood on tiny wheels.
I pined over myFord Mustang Shelby. It had been royal blue and gorgeous. When I got kicked out, I wasn’t allowed to take it with me, either. All I was allowed to take were the clothes on my back since Mom had paid for everything, not that she gave me any time to grab shit.
When I stepped inside the abandoned and gutted store, filled with graffiti and skating ramps, blaring with some punk rock, I looked around to find my friends. My eyes landed on the ever-familiar bald head of Cueball.
I’d met Marco Maldonado, who we called Cueball, after living on the streets for a couple of months. He’d seen something in me and started chatting me up back when I was still panhandling. Each day, he’d find me, give me some cash, and soon we became friends. I had no idea what he saw in me or why he even cared, but I never questioned it, desperate for a friend and ally.
I’d been so fucking bitter and angry. Fuck, I was still bitter and angry, but Cueball put up with my ass. I needed him more than he would ever know. He probably did know because he seemed to know everything about everyone, especially me. All my protective walls were nothing to him.
Whenever I felt like my mental state was spiraling, he’d bring me back using this control I desperately needed.
I stopped for a moment, closing my eyes as I was suddenly hit with an unwanted memory. I tried shoving it away, but it was fucking insistent beast. These thoughts hit especially hard when I felt like my life was heading out of control.
I sit on my knees, naked, with a swollen cock and hands tied behind my back as I look up at the older man.
“Open your mouth, my blaze, my fire.”
His words warm my already heated skin. I love it when he calls me that. I instantly obey. I have no idea how he knows how much I crave to be controlled and told what to do. Like my life has been in complete chaos, and he just understands how to stabilize me and feed me a sense of calmness, like righting my upside-down world. Even more, he gives me the attention I’m starving for.
He looks down at me with firm but kind blue eyes. They are always kind when I obey. If I didn’t, they would turn hard, and he would punish me. I love to be punished as much as I love to be rewarded and praised.