Overdosed on Love

Chapter 5: Under His Thumb

Max

Some people can be so ungrateful. There were a lot of things I could handle, and a lot of things I couldn't. One thing I could never stand was being accused of something I didn't do.

I'd been accused of many things, but that was mainly because I'd done them. However if someone accused me of something I'd absolutely not done, then I got furious. There was many adjectives you could add to the name of Max Griffin, but snitch was not one of them. The absolute audacity.

Walking up to my car I immediately noticed that there was something wrong with Sheila. It took a second for my brain to realize it, but then I noticed.

The driver's seat door had been pried open. Someone had broken into my car in broad daylight!

Rushing to my car I looked inside to see what had gotten stolen.

Everything was a mess—turned upside down. My belongings were scattered, but they were still there.

"They didn't ransack you, Sheila?" I patted the cabin interior feeling slightly reassured. Then I remembered.

Like a woman possessed I dove into the backseat and checked in the small crack between the two cushions for a specific envelope containing nine hundred dollars. It was missing.

"Son of a bitch!" I yelled. I punched my car's seat several times trying to resist the urge to burst into tears.

When I finally calmed down my brain was able to think, and I looked around at my messed up home.

So many objects around and the only thing that happened to be stolen was my money. My cash. Cash that I had so happened to mention I had only to one other person: Luc.

He had someone follow me—I was sure of it. And then once I'd left Sheila they'd broken in and taken my money. I was gonna kill the son of a bitch on sight.

Throwing all my belongings in an unorganized heap in the backseat I drove off with fury in my veins.

Crossing under interstate 710 I had ventured into Compton and well on my way to where I knew his den of deceit and drugs lay hidden within the neighborhood marked with the scars on an undeclared war of gangs. On top of all the strife Luc worked like a demon, tempting people on their most desperate point of life to fall into the habit of using drugs to numb the reality of the world. Earning himself the street name: Diablo. All the drugs he pumped into the surrounding neighborhoods only got there because he worked with certain gangs supplying them with any type of drug they could imagine.

I slowed down as my car meandered the streets that I knew a little too well. Groups of young men and women gathered on street corners, on front lawns. All of them eyeing me with caution, defense, and challenge in their eyes. Daring me to go on their turf and ask me where I was from. I was the minority in their world, and an enemy just because of the color of my skin. I still pressed on knowing I wasn't too far from my destination.

A small red house on Raymond Street was where Luc lived. There were all sorts of expensive cars and the SUVs on the driveway, all an indicator that Luc had guests over, but I didn't care. I knew he took my money and I was going to get it back.

Walking up the driveway I heard pulsing music and when I knocked on the metal screen door but there was no reply. I banged on the screen door even harder.

"Luc you skeezy, stealing, no-good, bastard! Open up the door and give me back my money you jackass or so help me I will go in there and kill you!" I was just saying shit at this point without caring.

The door opened and there was a woman who made me stop for a second because I felt like I'd seen her before. She tossed her thick hair over her shoulder and gave me a bored look.