Who: Dave Henderson and Allegra Lenkeit Where: The Highway When: Evening Warnings: Drug talk, drug use, language and violence.
Marijuana was either going to be really pleased with him, really pissed at him, or a combination of both. Mostly likely, a combination of both. Sure, he had access to the millions of dollars that Marijuana put under both their names, but there was a limit as to how much he could take out without asking. He had blown by that limit within the first week, siphoning money out to funnel into the drugs, buying in amounts the Highway had never seen before, selling it all and stashing the money in the basement like Marijuana would have liked. Of course, now he had to settle the books and even though Cam was helping, it was slow-going at best and probably wasn't going to turn out all that well. He could just replace the money; had already done that, but he needed to tell Marijuana about the extra profit in a way that didn't get him in trouble for making more money than his boss.
Wes wasn't much help. Dave was sitting at the counter, pale with bags under his eyes, twitchy fingers running over columns of numbers as his bodyguard leaned up against the wall behind him, smirking at Dave's panic. "Trying to prove your independence was a bad idea," Wes said in a gruff, slow voice. Dave lifted his head from the columns and blinked; Wes was actually using words instead of the series of meaning-laced grunts and tiny gestures that, to the bodyguard, were easier than speaking. Words were valuable, important and Dave just sighed slightly. "Yes, probably a bad idea. Just wanted him to see that we could make it without him." Be better without him, but that thought remained unspoken as Wes merely grunted, shrugged, hearing the unspoken words and not thinking it was worth it to challenge what Dave had said.
Dave merely focused back on the columns, eyes squinting slightly as he lit up a joint, hoping that his punishment for stepping out of line wasn't horrible and that Marijuana would be pleased for the money, hoping that Marijuana would, at the very least, ignore the fact that Dave had made an attempt at proving they would be better off without him. Because they wouldn't, Dave knew that. He couldn't explain why he had worked so hard to make more money. Maybe he was trying to work himself to death so he didn't have to actually kill himself. Maybe he just wanted to fill up his time. Dave didn't know and as he took another puff from the joint, he decided he didn't want to know.