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DUST
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Grumbling as I woke up, I reached over for my ringing phone that sat on the coffee table in front of me. The generic ringtone was fucking annoying, but it was better than the other options that sounded like some corny ass jingle. Stretching out my stiff limbs, because of the small lumpy couch I had to sleep on, I blinked a few times so I could see clearly and then checked the caller ID. When I saw whose name was flashing on the screen, a wave of panic rushed over me.

Fuck.

"Shai!" I quickly answered, sitting up straight in reflex to who was on the other end of the call. "Listen, man, I can explain-"

"Shut the fuck up, kid," his sharp voice snarled. Immediately, I stopped talking. "You know my rules. I don't like late lackies. Matter o' fact, I fuckin' hate 'em. You sell my product, you drop off my profit. It's as easy as motha'fuckin' A. B. C. That's the way my system works."

"I know, I know."

"Oh, you know? He knows. Guys, little Dusty over here says he knows," he chuckled, no doubt laughing it up with his goons around him. Clearing his throat abruptly, Shai then shouted, "THEN WHY THE FUCK DON'T I HAVE MY DAMN MONEY!"

Wincing at the volume, I pulled the phone away but forgot to hold in my temper. This situation was not my choice, and dealing with it was taking its toll on my self-control, which lately was at a shit poor excuse of barely existing. One of these days, that was going to earn me a fucking bullet, which I really wanted to avoid. Especially if I made it a habit of going off on Shiloh "Shai" Nuñez.

I already wasn't doing myself any favors when I yelled back, "Because! I was being followed by a pig in blue! Didn't think you wanted me to risk the law finding out about your 'system'," I mocked at the end.

Silence. Nothing but silence was what I heard from the other end, and it soon had my ass sweating. When he still had yet to respond, I attempted to do damage control.

"Listen, Shai, I-"

"You little shit," he cut me off, sounding rather agitated. "I should fuckin' kill ya' for that, like I did your old man, but I won't. Not yet, at least." Asshole. "Mainly because you have no kid for me to pass the debt onto."

The mention of my father had me clenching my fists so hard my knuckles turned white. The hope that one day I may somehow get out of this shit show was the only thing that kept me going at times.

"Good to know," I replied tensely.

"You made a good call, not following through last night," he added flippantly. But, like the prick he was, that wasn't all he had to say. "However, that don't change a damn thing. Bottom line is it's Friday, you're late, and in case you've forgotten, that ain't a good place to be."

"Well, what do you want me to do?" I  asked, hiding my anger well considering the situation.

"Nothing, for now," he sighed, and I could hear him lighting something up in the background before he brought whatever he was smoking to his lips.

It was probably a cigar, since he thought those things made him look like tough shit. It'd probably be laughable, if he looked like Danny Devito and couldn't hurt a fly, but the man was a cold-blooded killer and had proven that to me on multiple occassions.

When he finally continued, he said, "If what you say is true, you should lay low. They could be watching you."

"Right, okay," I bitterly agreed.

"But, Dustin?"

"Yeah?"

"BRING ME MY FUCKING MONEY!" And with that, the bastard hung up.

Groaning in frustration, I threw my phone at the couch and stood up, pacing to calm myself down. I'd never felt more trapped in my entire life than the day Shai showed up at my parents' house, looking for me. He showed me a picture of my Pops, and what he'd done to him. Fuck, just seeing my old man like that messed me up. I threw up the second my eyes caught a glimpse of him, and then Shai told me how my life would be from then on. Three years later and I'd barely made a dent in the debt passed on to me.

I wanted to break something. Fuck that, I needed to break something.

Break Shai.

But, he knew where my Moms lived, and I couldn't risk her life. I wouldn't.

"Well shit, that sounded intense."

Startled by his voice, I turned around and saw Micky, fully dressed, standing in the archway that led to his outdated kitchen. The entire house was old, and in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint, but his late aunt left it to him, so it was better than renting another place. 

"You piss Shai off again?" he asked, spooning cereal into his mouth and crunching loudly.

"You know how he is. Unreasonable and always mad over shit I can't control," I complained, walking past him to make myself a bowl as well. "It's like he's got a fucking stick up his ass and the only relief he gets is when he fucks up somebody else's life."

"Mmhm, just don't do anythin' stupid, bro. I'd hate to have to kick you out, but I got a kid, and anotha' on the way. Can't have you bringin' any heat down on me, y'know?"

Nodding my head, I let him know that I did, in fact, know all too well what he meant. If I rubbed Shai too much the wrong way, he'd track me down and put a bullet in anything that was in his line of fire. I didn't want that for Micky, his daughter, or his lady who was a few months pregnant.

"Alright, then," he smiled, patting my back as he walked away. "I'll be back later tonight. Don't forget to lock up."

Waving him off, I focused on eating, but my mind was subconsciously making plans. Plans to get out.