Page 18 of The Money Shot
The only one who stayed behind was Nessa. She marched over, hands on her hips, eyes flashing with fury. “Would someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”
As Detective Bryant and his officers fanned out, I watched Bradley edging toward the front door, eyes darting around the apartment like he was ready to make a run for it. He was almost there, too, until one of the detectives noticed and intercepted him, blocking his escape.
Just then, another officer came out of Bradley’s room, holding a stack of hollowed-out books. “Detective Bryant,” he called, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Look what I found in these.”
The officer opened a book, and several little baggies filled with white powder spilled out onto the floor.
The silence in the room was deafening. Bradley froze, his face contorting between fear and panic, and then, like he just couldn’t help himself, he bolted again.
This time, one of the officers drew his gun, holding it low but ready. “Freeze!” he commanded. Bradley put his hands up, defeated, as two officers moved in to cuff him.
As they read him his Miranda rights, Nessa turned on Liam and me, her face red with fury. “Are you boys dealing drugs in my fucking building?!”
“No!” I shot back immediately, horrified she’d even think that. “Nessa, we had no idea.”
Just then, Bradley looked over at us as they led him out, his face streaked with tears. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice choked. “I’m so sorry. Jack, Liam…they knew nothing. This is all on me.”
We sat there in the wreckage of our apartment, the three of us slumped on the couch, staring at the disaster the cops had left behind. Cabinets yanked open, cushions overturned, every inch of our place inspected and dumped back like it was trash. Eventhe bag of flour in the kitchen hadn’t escaped—who knew that’s where Bradley had been stashing drugs?
The drugs they found in his bathroom alone would have been bad enough, but the baggies of white powder they uncovered in random spots around the apartment made it feel worse somehow, like we’d been living in the middle of a lie we never signed up for.
Nessa was sitting between me and Liam, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, shaking her head. She’d gone from yelling at us to gently patting Liam’s shoulder, to now rubbing her temples like this was all too much to deal with.
She sighed, finally breaking the silence. “Look, I know you boys aren’t the bad guys. How could you have known that your roommate was a drug dealer?”
I looked over at Liam, who sat hunched, staring blankly at the mess. “We didn’t,” he mumbled. “Bradley was our friend. We’ve known him since freshman year.” His voice wavered, and he shook his head. “Or, I thought we did.”
“Yeah,” I added, feeling the anger creep back in. “Turns out everything he ever told us was a lie. From his name to…to everything he did behind our backs. All this time, he’s been selling drugs, living this second life, and we were just…” I swallowed, clenching my fists. “We were just collateral to him. Extras in his fucking movie.”
I punched the pillow beside me, wanting to hit something harder. I felt Nessa’s hand on my shoulder, calming me down, and I took a deep breath, trying to let the rage out.
She yawned, stretching, and gave us a gentle, sympathetic smile. “Well, it’s been a hell of a night, that’s for sure.” She leaned in, planting a quick peck on my cheek, then on Liam’s. “You two get some sleep. You’ll need your heads clear to deal with whatever mess this drags you into next.”
With that, she stood, waved, and headed toward the door, leaving Liam and me alone in the wreckage of our place, with only each other and the mess.
I turned to him, and he looked back at me, his face blank but his eyes wide, like he was barely processing any of it.
I exhaled, feeling the weight of it all drop on my shoulders. “What the hell are we going to do now?”
Chapter Eleven
Jack
The apartment looked like a tornado had hit it, and not a small one. There were shards of the disco ball glittering like cheap jewelry all over the floor, furniture upturned, drawers dumped, cushions everywhere. I couldn’t look at it without feeling my blood pressure climb. Every mess, every broken piece of our place felt like another slap in the face. Liam and I spent the entire morning trying to get things back in some sort of order, but it was hard to know where to begin.
And the worst part? The cops hadn’t stopped with Bradley’s room. No, they’d turned my room and Liam’s room upside down, too. We’d been treated like suspects in our own home, left with this wreckage as if we were guilty for Bradley’s mess. For the hundredth time, Liam muttered something about how lucky we were not to get tangled up in Bradley’s arrest.
“Yeah,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. “Lucky’s one word for it.”
Liam stopped what he was doing, dust rag in hand. “Jack, I mean it. This could’ve easily been us, in jail. The cops found nothing in our rooms, so we’re clear. But man, we dodged a bullet.”
He was right. But it didn’t make it any easier to accept that someone we’d known for years, someone we’d trusted, had a secret life right under our noses. God, we were such idiots.
I pulled the stepladder out of the pantry and dragged it into the living room, eyeing the disco ball that had seemed like such a fun addition yesterday and now felt like a symbol of how completely duped we’d been. I climbed up, unscrewing the mount. Finally, it came loose, and the thing slipped out of my hands, hitting the floor with a crash and splintering everywhere.
“Goddammit!” I shouted, kicking a piece across the room. Liam rushed over and, without a word, pulled me into a hug. I didn’t want to give in at first, but eventually I let myself lean into him, breathing out the frustration that was choking me.
We stayed like that for a minute, and then there was a knock at the door.