Free The Second Coming by J. Fritschi

Axe’s view and made like an alligator opening and shutting its mouth, indicating that he was stuck listening to the young man, even though that wasn’t really the case. Mike was enjoying trading war stories with Axe. He just didn’t want Big Pete and Lacy to think he was ignoring them.
    Big Pete motioned with his thumb to the doorway. Mike shook him off and gave him the thumbs up. He could tell Big Pete was ready to leave, but he knew his night was just getting underway so he gave him the OK sign and waved good bye. He watched with an unexplainable feeling of melancholy as Big Pete leaned down and gave Lacy a polite kiss on the cheek as she stood on her toes and held his shoulders for support.
    Axe stopped talking when he noticed Mike was distracted. “Everything alright?” he asked as he spun around to see if he could ascertain what was distracting him.
    “Fuck yeah. I was just saying good bye to my partner.”
    “Are you leaving?”
    “I’ll tell you what, let’s finish our drinks and I’ll take you to a couple of places you’ve never been before.”
    “That sounds like a good plan.”
    “Bad news is your driving.”
    “Shit, God Damn! I’m trained for high speed driving. Crash and Bang are my middle names.”
    Mike chuckled. So far he liked this kid, but he had yet to prove himself. Now it was time to test his merit.

chapter 17

    O N THE DRIVE back to his house, Mike had Axe stop at a few of his favorite bars and introduced him to some of his drinking buddies. By the time they got to Mike’s house, they were past the point of no return. Mike was on a roll and nothing could stop him, not even him.
    Axe sat on a stool at the granite counter between the kitchen and living room. The living room had an L shaped leather couch and a rich hutch, with a flat screen TV.
    Mike poured two glasses of Bourbon and placed a glass in front of Axe with a clank. “Salute,” he said as he raised his glass and took a swallow. “Wait here,” he disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.
    When he returned, he was carrying a wood humidor with the Navy SEAL trident on the top of it. It was a gift from Gunnery Sergeant Baker. Mike sat kitty corner to Axe and set the box down like it held a great unspoken treasure. He silently lifted the lid and produced a rather large zip lock bag of white powder.
    “What’s that?”
    “Grade-A-shit my friend.”
    “Heroine?”
    “Fuck no,” Mike said firmly. “That shit will kill you. This here is pure Bolivian cocaine. Nothing quite like it in the world. It’s sure to make your toes curl.”
    “I didn’t take you as a drug user.”
    “Recreational use,” Mike retorted as he poured a small pile onto the counter and striped up two short lines. “Everything in moderation.”
    “That’s not the word on the street,” Axe chuckled as Mike pulled out a thin, silver straw.
    Mike glanced at Axe with bloodshot eyes. “What is the word on the street?” He asked as he handed him the straw.
    “Word is you are hardcore and not to be fucked with,” he said as he snorted one of the lines and handed the straw back to Mike.
    Mike held the straw to his nostril with a grin as he vacuumed up the other line. “They’re all a bunch of judgers,” he uttered as he pinched his nose and inhaled hard, sending the bitter flavor cascading down the back of his throat. God he loved that numbing feeling. He ran his forefinger over the remnants on the counter and rubbed it onto his gums. “They don’t know shit but they think they have me figured out,” he told him and then took a sip of his bourbon, the cocaine already causing his heart to race.
    Axe dipped his finger into his bourbon and stuck it up his nose as he snorted his nostril clean and then, to Mike’s delight, stuck it in his mouth and sucked it clean.
    Mike pulled out two Robusto-sized cigars and snipped the ends off, handing one to Axe as he placed the other one in his mouth. He clicked the torch-like lighter and it hissed as he