Chapter 19 - Part 2

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 This was it. I quickly tuned out the blasting music and ignored the sweaty bodies I had countlessly bumped into as I slowly walked towards the stairs. As the last dark figure disappeared into a familiar corner, I headed up the stairs. I hoped dearly that the thumping bass would drown any sound of footsteps. My heart raced uncontrollably in my chest, for I was uncertain of what to expect. Upon reaching the top of the staircase I surveyed the area. Empty. Hesitantly, I headed towards the door by the end of the hall. I was certain this was it. I stared at it for a moment, feeling my heart plunge deep into my stomach and my hand shake. Do it, I demanded to myself. I took a deep breath, before knocking the same patterned knock I once heard the last I was here.  

Silence.  

As I began to lose hope, the door opened slightly. I stared at the dark tall man that peeked down at me. I was frightened, yet I willed myself to look back at him with a straight face. I had to look confident, like I knew what I was doing.  

"What do you want?" He hissed, voice demanding and cold.  

I inhaled deeply, as I felt my jaw begin to tremble. "I want to speak with Powell." My voice sounded emotionless, flat. Perfect.  

He did not respond, staring long and hard at me. When he began to realize that I was not going anywhere until I had spoken with Powell, he opened the door and gripped my arm painfully. "Come in," he barked, dragging me with force before shutting the door.  

It was though the room had been on pause. As soon as the men saw me they stopped what they had been doing immediately. Some stared with bewilderment; some with curiosity; and some with amusement. My eyes scanned the entire room, searching for but one man.  

"Well, well. What do we have here? Looking for me?" I heard a familiar voice say.  

I turned my head towards the right side of the room immediately, responding almost as if it had been instinct. There he was, in the darkest corner of the room. Powell. I willed myself to remain the composure I had kept upon coming up here. I could not afford to show even a hint of fright nor anxiety. I cleared my throat as I began to feel a distinct lump form. "Yes, actually. I have some...information," I lied.  

"Interesting. Why don't you tell us, Alice?" Another voice responded coldly.  

I shifted my glare towards the man's direction. Gordon. That bitch.  

I grunted in annoyance. "I said I wanted to speak with Powell. Not you. If you want the information, well, you're going to  have to trust your little friend here," I retorted, twice as cold. I refused to let my glare falter, as I challenged Gordon.  

Gordon shifted his gaze towards Powell, beginning to look suspicious. "Fine, you have five minutes with Powell. If the information received by him is deemed insignificant, expect the worst. Do I make myself clear, Ms. Denvar?" He smirked towards me, before crossing his arms across his chest in triumph.  

I remained silent for a moment. Had I trusted Powell? No, I could not. There was no guarantee that he was to be trusted. Yet Drew had trusted him. I gritted my teeth. I needed to hang on to the knowledge that Drew trusted him. I barely knew Powell yet Drew had known him for the longest time. More importantly, I trusted Drew and needed to be with him now. "Crystal," I responded.  

"She's yours, Powell," Gordon announced, smug.  

Powell nodded, before heading towards me. He stared at me for a moment, before speaking. "After you." He motioned towards the door.  

I turned to face the door and then back at him, before following through.  

Powell led me to the room farthest from the men. "What are you doing? Are you trying to blow my cover? This better be good, Alice, or I swear..." He breathed heavily, voice kept at a low. He crossed his arms, staring down upon me.  

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