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eyes
darted to Brent; he was pulling out three handguns from inside the
glove compartment, one for himself, one for Calvin, and one for
me.
    This was what my brother meant when he said to have
his back.
    Calvin took his with ease, and then Brent handed one
over the seat to me. I tried not to hesitate in taking it from his
fingers. This was no time to show weakness and we had no time to
waste. The longer we sat in the car, the more paranoid the Tweakers
inside became.
    I wrapped my fingers firmly around it. It felt cold
and heavy in my hot hand. I swallowed hard as fear uncoiled in my
mind. I tucked it into the waistband of my shorts against my back
and pulled down my t-shirt.
    My heart pounded inside my chest as I gripped the
door handle. I stepped out into the blazing hot sun to walk behind
my brother and his friend into, what felt like, the mouth of
hell.
    We walked up the steps to the porch. It was moldy and
in places completely rotted. There were t-shirts, tank-tops, and
even a sock draped over the railing that had been sitting in the
same spot for so long they were discolored and stiff looking.
    Calvin knocked; one slow, three fast, and then two
slow. Heavy footsteps from inside started towards the door. My
stomach twisted into painful knots and I stared out into the
unmowed yard, not wanting to make eye contact with whoever opened
the door this time. It wouldn’t be dope man, he never answered his
own door; instead he always sent one of his druggie goons to answer
for him.
    The door swung open.
    “Calvin, what’s up?” A low male voice greeted my
brother.
    “Nothing much, man. How’s it going?” Calvin
chit-chatted as he walked inside.
    I glanced up to see who had answered the door this
time, it was a red-headed guy named Justin I’d met the last time I
came here, which was about three weeks ago. If I remembered
correctly, he was still wearing the same clothes.
    I walked through the door last, but didn’t close it
behind me because Justin seemed to be waiting for us to get inside.
Once I crossed the threshold, I noticed him give a quick glance
around outside before closing the door.
    The trailer smelled musky and was clouded with smoke,
and not just cigarette smoke; a heavy scent of burning meth clung
to the air. The inside of my mouth became coated, which made my
heart pound even faster as remembered memories and want gripped me.
I licked my lips and swallowed hard while glancing around the room.
Five others sat inside besides Justin and us, we’d walked into a
party.
    Justin flopped down on a love seat beside a
brown-haired girl so skinny it almost made me sick to look at her.
Dope Man was perched in the middle of his couch beside his girl of
the week; a pale red-head with dark circles under her eyes, skimpy
clothes, and bruised up legs. Two other guys sat in the back corner
across from each other at a small dining room table playing cards.
A silver tray rested in the center of the coffee table with short
clipped straws, a small glass tube coated in white, and a few
baggies of meth laying across it.
    The room fell completely silent the moment we walked
in. I could feel everyone’s eyes skimming over me, Dope Man’s in
particular. My eyes flicked to his and a twisted smile came on his
face.
    He was one creepy looking dude; medium height, but
extremely stocky, with tattoos covering every inch of his exposed
skin I could see. He definitely didn’t dip into his personal stash
too often; he was too muscular and well-built for that. From the
looks of his company, his stash was his way of controlling
them.
    A manipulator of the worst kind. Those were the drug
dealers who always seemed to thrive.
    “Boys,” he said, nodding to Brent and I.
“Calvin.”
    We all nodded in return.
    “You got my money?”
    “Sure do,” Calvin answered in an I’m-a-kiss-ass tone
while he dug in the front pocket of his backpack. He found the wad
of cash and handed it to him. Dope Man didn’t even bother to count
it, he set it in