Markie smirked at the guy. “You just want nine and a half, hon? I could give you ten or eleven.”
“Try to refrain from soliciting young men for sex in public bathrooms,” Harley said, thinking they’d be lucky to make it to Miami. Before the day was done, there would be cops involved. He could already feel it in his bones.
Draegan turned away from stoner and company. He jabbed his finger at Markie’s chest. “I’ll remember this, Markie.”
“You always do, sugar,” Markie said, studying the pothead rolling a joint on the vanity. Prancing over to the fellow in Markie style, he used the sink for a bench and swung his legs back and forth. “Sugar, I’d love to partake. Most of the time, however, I make it my motto to abide by common man’s law.”
“Common man’s law? What the hell?” Mac shook his head in disbelief.
“Markie is a legend in his own mind,” Harley reminded him. “I thought you and everyone else knew.”
“We didn’t offer to spot you anyway, dude,” the cool one said.
“Where ya from, sweet thang?” Markie asked, fluttering his eyelashes.
“Would someone tell him to mind his own business?” Draegan walked passed them and went to the urinals.
Dude was suddenly anything but slurred and stoned. He hissed at Markie like a snake might. “Get lost, nark.”
“Nark?” Markie waved his forefinger in the young fellow’s face. “Is that any way to talk to your elders?”
The ring leader of the trio gave Markie a good stare down. “What are you? Like two years older than me?” The other potheads laughed.
“Come on. Let’s go Markie,” Mac said.
“Just a second, Mac,” Markie drawled, working a lone digit in front of the punk’s face. “For your information? I’m not a nark. And I’m approaching thirty. You’re nothin’ more than a kid and I was trying to save you since you don’t have the good sense to save yourself.
“I’m betting you’re from California. Most of those fellas have a brain or two in their heads but apparently you missed out on smarts because you were in the other line buying dope, which is illegal here in the state of Georgia.”
“He walked on the plane with it,” Harley pointed out.
“Which means it’s none of our business, Markie,” Mac said, tapping his shoulder.
&
nbsp; “Excuse me?” Markie drawled, giving Mac a pointed look. “I’ll let you know when I’m done here, thank you very much.” He returned to his original focus—swindling dope. “What do you mean by going and frying your brain on something as cheap as pot?”
“This stuff ain’t cheap, man. It’s the same shit you get down at Back of the House in Miami.”
“Back of the House? Never heard of the place. And as for that stuff, it looks and smells cheap because it’s skunk weed which gives new meaning to common grass. I could smoke my lawn and get a better buzz.”
“I see where this is headed,” Allister said, leaving the restroom as soon as he entered.
“Me, too,” Mac muttered, not budging.
“I wouldn’t take or give ten dollars either way for it,” Markie said.
“Pay attention to what he said, boys,” Mac said.
“Markie,” Harley muttered, pulling his phone free from his pocket. “We’ll be boarding in a few minutes.”
“Then board without me,” Markie said, painting on a smile.
“You know what, that’s an excellent idea,” Harley said, releasing a grunt and motioning for Mac. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.” Curt, Gabe, Bradley, Ryan, and Derek entered the restroom then. “He’s in good hands.”
“If they’re here, then no one stayed with the girls.” Mac looked frantic. “Let’s go.”
“Tell you what, I’ll take it off your hands for a buck and a half.” Markie was still wheeling and dealing for weed.