The Truth

I slammed the pitcher down on the counter with a loud curse at my hands that were shaking so bad I couldn't even pour myself a glass of water. I'd come home a little early from the show, too amped up to sit around and act normal. Phil was keeping his eye on Pete, making sure that he didn't run off to who knows where after the show. I'd had a couple of beers to calm myself down, but they didn't work and possibly just made me more edgy. Well, that or the fact that Pete showed up with two black eyes. He didn't want to talk about it -- in fact, very clearly ignored it and made it clear he wanted us to ignore them as well. But the fact that he still showed up was so unusual that even Kathleen looked thrown off. Part of me felt bruised myself just looking at his beautiful eyes surrounded by swollen, purple flesh. But part of me felt some kind of confirmation that now was the time to confront Pete. John had smiled when Pete walked in and whispered, "God's with us tonight, G." And while I wasn't totally convinced of that, everything did seem to be falling into place.
I finally got some water in my glass without making a huge mess and heard cars pull up outside. Without really thinking about it I started pulling chips and pretzels and other munchies out of the pantry; Tod was always starving after a show. Everyone began filing into the house, grabbing the food out of my hands as they went by. Tod grinned at me. "Tonight I don't know if it's post-show munchies or nervous munchies," he murmured. "But either way...thanks."
The chatter began to die out as everyone sprawled in the living room. After a few minutes the only sounds were crinkling foil and crunching junk food. I was trying to catch Phil's eye -- we'd all agreed Phil should start things off -- when Pete shocked us.
"I know what's going on," he said, his voice low and husky. "I know why we're all sitting in here sweating and avoiding eye contact. I know you all aren't blind or stupid."
Maria crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Pete. "Te queremos mi hermano" She said. They hugged for a long moment before Maria sat down on the floor next to him; he gripped her hand like a lifeline. We waited.
"It's bad, guys." He said. "It's going to sound like I'm making it up, but I assure you, I'm not. I've been gambling, which you may have guessed. There have been a few instances with drugs, but mostly just the gambling. It started out with just some guys I met on the job. But I kept getting in with more serious games, bigger stakes...bigger players." He paused.
"Organized?" Kathleen asked, her voice surprisingly gentle.
Pete nodded. "Asian. A small-time group, relatively speaking. But big enough to pack a devastating punch...no pun intended."
"How deep are you in," John asked.
"Two and a half million."
My heart stopped and it's safe to say everyone else's did as well. Grant turned green.
"Pete," he said. "Dude...that's...." There were no words.
"I know."
John looked thoughtfully at Pete. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that your forthrightness was somewhat motivated by a deadline."
Pete nodded. "Yeah," he admitted, his voice cracking. "I've got two days."
Silence.
I couldn't stand it.
"And then what." I cursed my squeaky and panicked voice. "Then what?"
Pete exchanged a look with John and I could hear Maria start to cry as she realized what refused to.
Pete turned toward me, his swollen eyes full of pain and regret and something I'd never seen before -- tears.
"Then I don't come back." he told me.

what are friends for

"So, basically, I think we need to do something."
It had been two weeks since I'd gone to the bank with Phil and he'd told me his new theories about Pete. We'd both been watching him closely since then -- what there was to watch. Phil's gambling theory fit, and after Pete came home last night with what looked like two-day bags under his eyes, a fat lip and a bruise on his cheekbone, I'd decided that just sitting by wasn't an option anymore. Everyone was sitting in my living room, digesting what Phil and I had told them.
"Like an intervention?" Kathleen rolled her eyes. "Come on, Gia. Do you really think that's going to do anything. He'll probably lie to us -- IF anything is going on -- and then laugh himself out the door. And try getting him to come back after that. You know Pete."
"Actually, Kathleen," Maria chimed in. Her normally laughing and sparkling dark eyes were serious. "We do know Pete. And this isn't him. There is a stranger living in that house, and I agree with Gia. It's time to find Pete again."
I looked around the room, and saw determination staring back at me. I wasn't worried about Kathleen. We'd already figured she'd be the dissenting opinion, but we knew Phil could make her see reason.
"We thought we'd talk to him this weekend," I said. As I anticipated, everyone got a nervous look on their face. "I know it's soon," I said, "but the sooner the better, I think. He should show up for the show Saturday night, so we're going to keep him around and talk to him on Sunday. And John, we really want you there too," I looked at our new friend, who looked surprised.
"Pete really respects you, and I have a feeling you'll have a calming influence."
He nodded. "I know this seems drastic, and like the last thing you want to be doing," he said gently. "But if we're truly Pete's friends -- if we truly care about him -- we have to try and make him confront the truth and get some help. Otherwise it's like watching him walk blindfolded toward the edge of the Grand Canyon and not reach out to take off the blindfold."
I felt drained just thinking about confronting Pete, and I could see the tension in everyone else as well. It was going to be a long weekend.