I don’t know how he knew that I wanted to pull back, but he did. It was the second time he had mentioned this. It was as if he was sure that if he kept on pressing me about it, I would crack.
He might not be wrong. If it were my ass on the line, I would have given in to him, telling him I had my doubts in this business, but I knew that I wouldn’t be better off without the crew. If it were just me, I would have kissed his ass even if I hated it, but it wasn’t just me to think about, and I couldn’t risk any of his paranoia on Ava, Micah, or Grayson.
The rest of the ride was quiet and suffocating. We made it all the way to an industrial section where many factories were stationed. There were a few turns, deliberately making this feel like a labyrinth.
By the time we parked, I wouldn’t have been able to tell you how to get to the exact parking lot. Maybe it should have been something I prioritized, but it was too late now.
Our instructions were simple: we had to take the crates into the warehouse. The place looked like it had been abandoned a couple of years back, with some of the machinery left behind. It looked like it had belonged to a printing press. Sheets of paper that now looked more black than white littered the floors, along with old printing presses.
“So, we just drop them off in the middle, and that’s it?” I asked skeptically.
“Yeah, that’s what those quacks wanted. Who are we to judge?”
That was true.
Big Dog had stayed outside by the car. He was too important to be doing this grunt work, and he wanted to be ready in case something went wrong. He would get to escape, while the rest of us got fucked over.
He wondered why his crew didn’t respect him. That was why. He only thought about himself, and it was going to bite him in the ass eventually.
“What do you think is in there?” I asked no one in particular. I just didn’t like that we were blindly carrying these crates with no idea of what they contained.
One of the guys scrunched his nose.
“I don’t know, but one of them was a bit lifted, and it smelled like a dead animal.”
The rest of us looked at the crates with disgust but didn’t make another comment.
“Let’s get out of here…this place gives me the chills,” I told them.
Anything abandoned never gave a good vibe; it felt like the spirits from the past were watching you.
I could feel Ricky watching me as I walked back to the car. I wished I could have changed cars, but that would just give me away.
“Are we going to be little errand boys for the church from now on?” I asked as I got in the back seat.
Big Dog turned around and gave me a dirty look. It was late, I was annoyed, and I refused to back down. I needed to prove to him that he didn’t get to control all of me. So instead, I raised an eyebrow, meeting his stare head-on.
“As long as you get your cut, you shouldn’t worry where the money comes from.”
I had to fight the urge to snort.
If the crazy cult enthusiasts fucked us over, it wasourasses who would be fucked over, while Ricky fell back and let us get the blame, but, of course, I couldn’t go ahead and say that.
“How’d you even get in contact with them?” I asked, not expecting him to give me an actual answer, but I was still hell-bent on proving that he didn’t scare me.
“I didn’t get in contact with them…they contacted me.”
I got the impression I shouldn’t press for more information, so I kept my mouth shut, but Jose didn’t get the memo, and what he said had piqued my interest.
“Doesn’t the pastor of that church own one of those fancy houses on the shore of Blackwell Lake?”
This was new information to me.
Big Dog was quiet…a little too quiet, maybe like he wanted the conversation to end. At this point, I was probably too paranoid.
“Doeshe now?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Yeah,” Jose kept going. “Has to have been there forever. No one wants to move out of those properties. And if they do, they ask for a whole lotta stacks.”
