Page 89 of Darcy
Initially, I was hesitant. I knew, even then, that getting involved with his kind was more serious than the petty dealing I’d done before. Slate warned me, and back then, I listened. I wasn’t yet desperate enough to accept.
“He kept pushing, even when we were released, and I kept turning him down…”
It got harder and harder each time. Emma was only six when we got out, but she’d suffered a full year without me there to look after her and make sure she was fed.
“Of course, my parents weren’t going to let me back under their roof after I’d stolen their stash from them, so I took Dodger’s offer and moved in with him. We were dirt poor, living in his mom’s old house, which we couldn’t even afford to heat properly. The building was falling apart, but we kept it clean, and I told myself I still wasn’t going to take Miguel’s money. Dodger was making just enough to cover the bills, and I was still hopeful that I could get some commissions.”
We had enough to make sure Emma had clothes and food, though we had to be sneaky in getting it to her, given how hostile my parents were. When Slate joined us, we managed to scrape together enough for some shitty second hand instruments. Neither he nor I were making as much as Dodger could on a good night, but it was a contribution.
“It wasn’t great, but I thought we were surviving okay. A year in, we even scored a lucky break and managed to buy ourselves gaming rigs with the extra money. Prophet’s dad found him a beat up old van to drive our stuff to gigs. But then I walked in on Dodger one night.”
I knew he was dancing at the club where his mother worked to pay the rent. He told us her old friend had gotten him a job there, but until then, I hadn’t realised that he was doing more than just dancing.
I know Dodge won’t care that I’m telling Darcy this. He’s never hidden his past from anyone, and he’s made it clear he doesn’t regret it or find it shameful.
“He looked me dead in the eye, and there wasnothingthere, Dark. He was fucking this vapid, giggling old bitch, and he was just checked out. How could I sit by while one of my best friends whored himself out to buy us food to eat?”
I couldn’t.
“And it wasn’t just us. His money was going to Emma as well. Feeding my baby sister where I couldn’t. For eight damnedyears, my friend was selling his body and soul to buy my sister’s survival while I failed at producing art and playing guitar and called it progress.”
I shake my head. The irony isn’t lost on me that now I play in front of thousands and my work hangs in posh galleries, but my outlook on life is almost as bleak. Or it was, until Darcy arrived.
“Miguel knew we had talent. When I called him and said I wanted a loan, he asked what it was for. Originally, I’d just planned to bribe my way into an agency and get a deal. When he said he had another plan… I was desperate enough to roll with it.”
“You signed the contract.” The knowledge is there in her eyes.
I nod, the action more a jerk of my head than a true nod. “It was a year after we met online. I brought it back and convinced the whole band to sign it. I even hid who it was from. None of them wouldeverhave touched it if they’d known. They trusted me, and I thought I was saving them.”
Look where that got them. “For a while, it was good. Miguel was friendly. He put us up in a nice place, even helped me get custody of Emma. Of course, I know now that’s because she was just more leverage he could use against me.”
Darcy’s face gives nothing away. “It clearly didn’t last.”
“We worked out why he was so eager to be involved. He wormed his way into every single aspect of our lives. A few months after our first album came out, he started taking me to parties where he knew there would be drugs. I guess he must’ve known it would be easiest to get me addicted. Dodger won’t touch the shit; Prophet and Slate won’t follow a crowd just to keep things peaceful.”
Whereas all he had to do was surround me with the right people and pile on just enough pressure until I did a line to shut them up.
Then rinse and repeat until an addict was born.
The moment the band confronted him, things got nasty.
“When we discovered he was trafficking women amongst the other roadies, we refused to perform.” I grimace. “They found Sully beaten in an alleyway to within an inch of his life the next day. Cartel enforcers started following Prophet’s nieces and nephews to kindergarten when someone overheard him telling Slate he was going to quit. It got so bad that his two middle sisters moved their families to the east coast to get away. When I first went to rehab to try to get clean, some of their goons tried to rape Emma.”
Luckily, my sister had years of living with our asshole parents under her belt. After a few run-ins with unsavoury dealers looking for money, she started carrying pepper spray everywhere and took some basic free self-defence classes at school. The incident with Miguel’s men still scared her to death.
It also made getting clean a thousand times harder, because I had to be sneaky about it.
There were days when the only thing which kept me going was the band, Emma, and Darcy’s lighthearted teasing as we gamed together. There were even more days where playing with her online was the only thing that got me out of bed.
In so many ways, I owe this woman my sanity, and all I’ve managed to give her in return is a broken heart.
Darcy’s hand has slowly risen to cover her mouth, but she lowers it when she notices.
Then, slipping off the bench, she crouches in front of me, putting her face directly in my line of sight.
“This wasn’t your fault,” she promises.
I let out a hollow chuckle. “Dark, this isallmy fault. You can’t even argue otherwise. My naiveté and good intentions got us into this mess, and my inability to stand up for myself sealed us in.”
