I’d called Dex on my way to Thurrock, and he went over the details before sending the address to my phone. The meeting would take place in two hours at a storehouse ten minutes away from the scaffolds I’d climbed as a kid. With time in my favor, I sent a quick text to Adrian to meet me at the same location we’d burned the drugs after the BOGs raid, which seemed like lifetimes ago.
Adrian’s two-toned Civic idled beside the large building, and I parked beside him before opening the glove box for a cigarette. My eyes landed on Mia’s Christmas gift sitting inside, and all the muscles in my body flexed, my knee bouncing. After a few pounds of my heart, I swiped the pack, slammed the glove box shut, and joined Adrian by the barrel.
With a quick shake and pat on the back, we lit up.
It was silent between us at first, and I dragged in the smoke until the burn hit my lungs as we both stared off into the abyss of nothingness. The moon loomed overhead, the night too peaceful, too calm for what was about to go down. My thoughts had tangled into a holy mess of Mia, and if I didn’t say something now, I’d probably lose it. “Remember when we came here after the raid?”
“Yeah, mate,” Adrian threw his head back and chuckled lightly, “I thought you’d reached nutter status after burning the BOGs drugs and filthy lucre.”
I flicked the cigarette butt, and ash floated to my boot. “Besides, I didn’t.”
In my peripheral, Adrian cocked his head. “What do you mean? I watched you do it.”
Shaking my head, a thin layer of smoke seeped from my mouth and mixed with the cold air. “You only saw what I wanted you to see,” I pointed out, pulling the cigarette back to my mouth and walking the few long strides behind the station wagon.
Adrian followed, and I shoved the key inside the lock of the trunk until it clicked and popped open. Lifting the floorboard, colorful heaps of banded money rested in the cracks, and Adrian’s young features lit up with a cackle. “Are you fucking kidding me,” he turned to face me, and I lifted my hand over the top of the trunk hood and leaned in, “that has to be at least ten grand sitting there.”
“It’s thirty,” I corrected.
Which was pocket money to the hoarder in me. Mia would be all right. I’d made certain of it. I’d spent this past week going over the finances, and there was enough to where Mia would be taken care of for the rest of her life. And it was true, I never expected to be the one-hit-wonder poet, but I’d finished my second manuscript in the nightstand along with the letter. Mia would have the choice of either handing it over to Laurie to share with the world or cherish it for herself. It may even be worth more once I was a goner. Either way, it had always been the two of us who blended onto every page and word, poetically making love to her for eternity.
“I need you to do something for me, mate.” The sincerity in my voice seized his attention. “It’s important to me.”
Adrian tilted his head and crossed his arms. “Yeah, Oliver. Anything. You know I’m good for my word, and you’re my boy. I’m loyal to you, always have been.”
“I’m going to text you an address once I leave, and I need you to take the money in the black bags and deposit them on the doorstep of the house. It’s already split up.” The drop off for the Burn’s family. I wished I could do more for the family.
“What about the rest of it?”
“The rest is yours.” My arm dropped from the trunk, and I flicked the cigarette over the cracked concrete. “I had every intention of getting you out from under the Links, and it may not be enough to take care of you forever, but it’s a bloody start. You’re a good man, Adrian. And I promise, there’s so much more out there. This world is too fucking beautiful to be spending your days drowning in drugs, cheap liquor, and meaningless sex. Don’t waste it, A.”
Adrian rubbed his palm over the top of his buzzed head before gripping the back of his neck. “I don’t understand.” He shook his head, big brown eyes trying to read me. “What about you? What about Ghost?”
“It’ll be all right,” I reassured him. “I’m trusting you’ll do this for me then?”
“Yeah, of course.”
For the following five minutes, we got to work loading his car, and after finishing, I cut our goodbye short and slid into the station wagon with a few minutes left to spare. Adrian drove past me, and I shoved another cigarette in my mouth and opened the glove box to swipe Mia’s gift. My fingers shook as they creased the lines of the tattered paper, making it perfect.
Instead of pulling up to the front of the storehouse, I drove around the back. Though this was a business deal, men such as Ghost wouldn’t let anyone pass through the front doors without being patted and checked for weapons or wires. I had to find a way to get my gun inside unnoticed, and most of the exits wouldn’t open from the outside.
A harsh wind stung my eyes as I tried the last door without any luck. Only a single street lamp buzzed about a quarter of a mile away, giving me little to no light. I took a step back and glanced down the side of the building. Three doors aligned, and I could only leave my weapon out in front of one of them. If I chose wrong, this entire plan would burn.
I laid the gun flat against the brick wall at door number three, left the car behind the building, and walked back toward the front with my hands shoved deep into my pockets and anxiety at an all-time high. Earlier, I’d given Dex my own instructions on how this was going to go without Leigh. Ghost was under the impression he’d pay half now before we’d meet once more to deliver a locked-up virgin. Ghost was under the impression this was just another business deal.
But it wasn’t.
We were both dying tonight.
A few men greeted me at the entrance, and one patted me down and checked under my hoodie for wires. “I’m clean, mate,” I reassured, scanning the inside of the storehouse. Numerous storage units with bright blue doors lined the halls of the compound, a few opened, but couldn’t see what was hidden inside at this angle.
“You’re late,” he growled. “Where’s your mot?”
The beefy man’s neck was thick, blue veins popping beneath his flesh—fifty pounds of face, and probably a heavier liver. If one couldn’t tell by the blondish-red hair or icy blue eyes, the accent would’ve given him away, an Irish fellow who was a long way from home.
“You don’t bring the present to the party unless you want someone to open it,” I said with a grin. The chap narrowed his eyes, and I shook my head. “The exchange isn’t happening until I get my first payment, let’s not pretend we don’t know how this works.”
The Irish man looked over at another bloke. “The boyo’s a real chancer, ya? Let’s get on with it.” He nudged his head, and I followed him down the line of storage units to the back, his mate close behind me.
