Maladaptation Read online

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  More Titles / Free Books

  Maladaptation

  Second Edition

  By Adan Ramie

  Copyright 2015 Adan Ramie

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, places, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only, and may not be resold or lent to other people. If you would like to share this book, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite e-book retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author!

  CHAPTER 1

  The club was dark when the dancer stepped on stage. The first few chords of a trashy hair metal song echoed through the dark parlor, and the platform lit up. She slung her hair in a cascade of fuchsia and electric pink, and strutted toward the pole in front of the crowd. Her tawny hips gyrated to the beat of the music over catcalls and grunts. Just before her customers started to complain, she popped the buttons off her vest and threw it into the audience.

  Lee Barsten looked on through hooded eyes with disinterest. Her drink sat forgotten in a puddle of its own condensation on the grimy table, and her cigarette had burned down to the filter and hovered precariously on the edge of the full ashtray. She flicked the butt into the tray with one bitten fingernail, then brought her hand up to push a straggly coil of brown hair off her forehead.

  "Can I get you another drink, Lee?" The raccoon-eyed waitress smiled, her lips cracked under fire engine red lipstick.

  Lee feigned a smile and stretched in the rickety bar stool. “Nah, I don’t think so, Sunny. Sitting here is killing my back.”

  Sunny frowned and leaned down. Her freckled cleavage struggled against the bonds of her ivory and hunter green bodice, and she pushed a braid of ginger hair laced with fake green vines behind one ear. "What's wrong with you today?" She grinned and nudged Lee’s shoulder. “Did that girl from last night wear you out?”

  “You don’t know the half of it. She was a freaking nightmare, and I’m just glad she doesn’t know where I live.” She slipped off the bar stool and onto the floor. Her boots stuck to the grimy surface, and she made a face. “I’m gonna get some air, and maybe make a run.”

  “Be careful, okay?” Sunny plead, looking down at Lee, who met her worried eyes. “People are getting rolled hard out there. A fix isn’t worth your life.”

  “I’ll be all right. I’ve got Josie.” She pulled on a dark jacket faded at the elbows, and glanced at the door as it shut behind a group of stumbling, vocal, college boys. “Besides, what the hell kind of a life do I have to protect? They might be doing me a favor.”

  The waitress put her hands on her hips. “That’s a pretty screwed up thing to say, Lee.” She tapped a green, lace-up stiletto on the floor and pursed her lips. “I hope you’re coming to my show later. I’m going on break at six, but I’ll be on at nine.”

  “Raincheck,” Lee said, handing her a folded twenty. “Keep the change.”

  Lee walked out of the strip club feeling bored and lonely. She passed by stores advertising cheap liquor, guns without background checks, and hypoallergenic fetish toys. The streets darkened, and a sheen of sweat, urine and mold seemed to gradually cover everything around her. Her hand lingered on the knife in her pocket.

  “Hey, beautiful.” A tall, broad-shouldered man leaned against the sticky, graffiti-covered wall, his midriff bared, and a smile painted on his weary face. “Looking for a good time?”

  Lee made a gagging noise in her throat. “Josie, you’re going to get yourself killed or arrested just calling out to people like that.”

  He sidled over and grabbed her in a bear hug. She complied, then pushed him away and straightened her jacket. He leaned back against a post, and gave her a once-over punctuated with a disapproving click of his tongue that reminded her of a grade-school teacher. “Girl, you don’t look so good.”

  She gave him a dirty look. “You’re one to talk. You look like you’ve been ridden hard and put up wet.” She leaned against the opposite side of the post, and shot him a sideways glance. “How’s trade?”

  “Same scene, different day; nobody plays unless they pay.” He chewed at the chipped black polish on one of his fingernails. “Not many are up for play lately. I’m starting to think I’m going to have to get a 9-to-5 just to make it.”

  “I can’t say I could see you as a cashier.” She looked away to hide her grin.

  “Oh, please, like I’d be a register jockey. You know I’d do something with hair or makeup.” He primped his slick blonde hair and made a kissy face in an imaginary mirror. “Bitch would be getting paid to look fabulous and make over ugly straight girls.”

  Lee turned around to look him in the face. “I don’t know why you don’t do that. You could leave this all behind.”

  “Oh my God,” he said, and pulled up to his full height. He towered over her, a linebacker dressed in half drag, and looked equal halves offended and amused. “You know no one is ready for all this.” He slid a hand down his thick midsection and popped one rounded hip. “Besides, I can’t make enough in a day to support myself in a normal job. Not without this on the side.”

  “I think I’m going to look for a real job. Get a life, a better place, and a girl. Be normal.” She slouched back against the pole.

  Josie laughed down at her. “You couldn’t be normal. It isn’t in you.” He turned and started to walk in the opposite direction from whence she came. “You coming? I need a little recreational break.”

  Lee pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her pocket and tapped two out. She lit them both with a lighter she pulled from her front pocket, then jogged to catch up and handed him one. He winked his thanks.

  “So, who are we visiting today?”

  “You’ll see,” he said, and took a drag off his cigarette.

  She had to jog now and again to match his long stride, but she kept up the pace and soon they stopped at a house she had only been in once before. It was a two-story affair painted stark white, with a black gable roof, black shutters, and a red door. All the windows were covered from the inside with thick, white curtains. Four cars clogged the driveway, and Lee assumed the three-car garage was full, as well.

  “I don’t know why you deal with him,” she whispered from the side of her mouth as they stood on the stoop in front of the door.

  “It’s primo, and he’s close.” He rapped on the door three times in quick succession, then twice more after a pause. “And he’s hot.”

  Lee snorted, then
stubbed out her cigarette on the stoop. “Yeah, if you think a dude who walks around thinking he’s the next American Gangster is hot.”

  He clapped her on the shoulder. “I always have.” He cleared his throat. “And because I had a little falling out with Eddie.”

  Lee whipped her head up to look at him. “What do you mean, falling out? What did you do?”

  He smiled, but his face was tight, and she could see too many of his teeth. Lee knew the look, and she knew that whatever happened, it was not as simple as he let on. “It’s nothing,” he said.

  The door in front of them creaked open, and the two went quiet. A stooped old woman poked her head out and squinted up at them. “Who’s that? What do you want?” she squawked in a thick accent.

  “I need to see Chinh,” Josie said.

  The old woman looked up at him through sparse, black eyebrows with disdain; her old, hollow eyes bored into his, then flicked her gaze to Lee. “And what do you want, cô bé?”

  “I’m the money.”

  The door opened, and they walked inside. The old woman snapped the door shut almost soundlessly behind them, then shuffled away. “You know where to go,” she threw over her shoulder.

  Josie walked to a door beside the staircase and rapped on it twice. He waited until he heard heavy footfalls on steps to knock again, twice more. He stepped aside just as the door opened out.

  “Who’s that?” a teenaged girl asked through a mouthful of bubblegum, her eyes narrowed. She popped a bubble at Josie, then turned her dark eyes to Lee. She sucked her gum back into her mouth with a grin and held out a hand to shake. “Or should I say, who’s this?”

  “You remember me, I’m Josie,” he said. The girl didn’t even acknowledge him.

  “What’s your name, beautiful?” She circled Lee like a predator, looking her over. She stopped behind her, mouth near Lee’s ear, and whispered, “Baby, you know I love white girls. You are succulent.”

  Lee turned her head so that she could see the girl out of her peripheral vision. “My name is Lee. Girls like you usually end up screaming it sooner or later.”

  The girl grinned and turned to Josie. “I like this little white girl. You should bring her by more often.” She motioned for him to head downstairs, then patted Lee on the back pocket. “You stay close, Dandelion. It’s no place for a girl like you down there.”

  “I can handle myself.” Lee kept on Josie’s heels as he walked down into the darkness of the cellar.

  It took her eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness, and just as they did, a single bulb clicked on. A group of large, dark men stood in a semicircle around one smaller, Vietnamese man. For every three feet of space in the small room, there was one guard, and all of them stood tall, their arms crossed in front of them, as if waiting for an attack.

  “Chinh, thank you for seeing me,” Josie said, and walked forward with a hand extended. One of the guards stepped in front of him, but Chinh motioned him back. He held out a hand and took Josie’s as if he regarded him almost a friend.

  “Joseph, I hope you’re well.”

  “Can’t complain,” Josie said, and winked. “I just need a little recreation after a long, exhausting day.”

  Chinh nodded and signaled to the guard farthest from them. The man retreated, and Lee focused her eyes on the leader of the group. He was small but muscular, with skin the color of milky coffee and eyes that looked like pure black dots. His suit was tailored, finely made in a rich brown, with a mustard-colored tie. His movements were deliberate and slow, and he seemed to be looking at both Josie and Lee at the same time.

  “You’ve brought a guest,” Chinh said to Josie, but he was looking straight into Lee’s eyes. “I trust that you know the rules.”

  “The rules are the same here as anywhere else,” she replied, and he raised one eyebrow at her. “Don’t be stupid, don’t be rude, and don’t get caught.”

  Chinh turned to Josie just as the guard came back with a handful of tiny paper satchels. “Please, choose your parcels. The price is always the same.”

  Josie picked two from the bunch, and cleared his throat to get Lee’s attention. “Sixty,” he murmured.

  She pulled out her wallet and peeled three twenties out. She stepped forward and placed them into Chinh’s waiting hand. It surprised her, at first, by being so dry, and so soft. It surprised her again by clasping hers. “You should always have your money ready. Never bring out your lot in front of men who would take it from you.”

  “Men would take everything I have.” She pulled her hand from his grasp. She tucked her wallet back into her jeans, then met his eyes again. “But I won’t let them.”

  One of the guards grunted and she shot him a dirty look. Chinh frowned at him, then looked back to Lee. “You would be wise to not advertise your abilities. Those of us who are slight of frame are easily underestimated. That can be your greatest strength.” He bowed his head, but kept his eyes on both of his guests.

  She bowed her head, then followed Josie up the steps. They left the house without meeting any more of Chinh’s relatives. Outside, she wrenched him by the arm and spun him around. “What was that?”

  He looked at her with an innocent pout. “What? We made it, right?” She glared at him. “You’re okay, I’m okay, and we have what we came for. What’s the problem?” He pulled his arm away and started walking.

  “The problem is that you know it isn’t safe going there.” He snorted and walked faster, and she struggled to keep up. “Josie, I’m serious!”

  He whirled on her and she stopped short and bumped into his large chest. “Nothing I do is safe. I live my life the way I choose. If someone wants to beat me to death, I hope they get a good dose of my disease when I bleed all over them.”

  He turned and started walking again. She jogged to catch up, then kept time with him. They walked a few blocks, up a rickety flight of stairs, and into their apartment. He didn’t bother to lock the door behind him, and flung himself onto a weary sofa.

  “Listen, Josie,” she said.

  He held up a hand for silence, then tossed one of the bags to her. He pulled two trays from under the sofa, handed one to her, and kept the other for himself. She dumped the bag out onto the tray and began pulling stems out of the fragrant, dark green buds while he chopped white lumps into powder.

  “Something you should already know about me, girl, is that I don’t care.” He tapped the razor blade on the little glass and examined the lines he had created. “When I do start to give a fuck again, I make sure to squash that feeling.” He leaned down and snorted a line of it through a straw, then wiped at his nostril with a tissue.

  He held out a clean straw and she scooted closer to him on the sofa. She sucked in one after another at his suggestion, then sat back and let the drug pump through her.

  “Don’t you ever want something more?” she whispered.

  He laughed, but it sounded more intoxicated than genuine. “I can’t have anything else. It’s over for me. For you, maybe there’s something else.” He picked up the joint she had rolled and felt around for a lighter in his pockets, but came up empty.

  She held out her lighter. He lit the joint, sucked in a deep breath, and then held it as he watched the smoke rise in milky white tendrils. He took another puff before he handed it over to her.

  Lee pulled herself mostly upright, and took a long, deep hit. She grimaced as the smoke hit her lungs and they protested. She handed it back, then let the smoke out slowly to stave off a cough.

  “I don’t know what to do. I’m stuck. I have a shitty, under-the-table job. I smoke too much. I drink too much. And I sure as hell snort too much.” She took the joint as it was offered and took another hit. “I don’t know how the hell to get out.”

  “You’ll get your chance, Lee,” Josie answered, and sucked another line into his angry, red nostril. His phone vibrated and he picked it up.

  “Got a job?” she asked.

  He groaned at the phone. “Fuck.”

&n
bsp; Lee sat up straight. “What’s up, man?” She tried to see the message, but he turned the screen away before she could read it. “What’s going on?”

  He tapped out a message and flipped the phone closed. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he said. She knew better than to push it.

  They sat and smoked another half hour before Josie’s phone buzzed again. He frowned, but didn’t check the message.

  “Do you need to get that?” she asked.

  “I can handle my own business,” he said with a pointed look.

  She rolled her eyes. “Hey, it’s your funeral.”

  He snapped his head toward her with a defensive scowl. “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Nothing,” she said, and pushed herself off the sofa. “Listen, I’m gonna go out for a while. I might head back up to Wet to watch Sunny’s show, so if you need me...” He glared up at her, and she shrugged. “I’m just saying, if you need me to grab some food or something while I’m out, text me.”

  “Sure, I’ll text you if I feel like eating deep fried pig fat and mayonnaise.”

  She chuckled. “That is sick, man.”

  He dropped the half-smoked joint into the ashtray to smolder out. “So is your diet.”

  “Hey, we can’t all live off protein shots,” she said, and mimed giving a blow job. He tossed a shoe at her, and she dodged out of the way. “Good night, Josie.”

  She turned to walk to the door, but a loud knock stopped her mid-stride. She twisted around to stare at Josie, who stood up and put a finger over his lips. He slipped his bare, size 12 feet into running shoes as a cold feeling pooled in the bottom of Lee’s stomach. She grabbed her knife and shoved it into one back pocket.

  “Open the door, faggot!”

  Lee would recognize the voice anywhere. The man behind it was short, but full of the wiry strength of the red fox he resembled. Josie closed his eyes and sucked in the lightest breath his large lungs would accept. He peeked out the peephole, then stepped back toward Lee.

  “I know you’re in there, and I want my money!”

  Lee flinched as the assault on the door continued anew. Josie leaned toward her; when his lips brushed her ear, he whispered, “We have to go out the window.”