PewDieCry: Shy

Chapter 16

Cry’s P.O.V

Pewds and Ken had disappeared into a building nearby, a large black building with large flashing lights and a long line of people queuing to get in. It reminded me of Pewds’ club so much, but there was something different. If I’d followed Pewds to this club back when I first moved here, I’d never have gone inside.

“How long has it been now?” Minx asked as she sat cross-legged beside me.

“Nearly an hour.”

Another long pause filled the air before either one of us spoke.

“Are you worried about them?”

I looked up at her and noticed the concern that had set onto her face. She’s been working at the club since it opened. She’d known Pewds and Ken a lot longer than I have and the fact that she was worried about this made me nervous as fuck.

“Not at all,” I lied, hoping I’d douse down my own worry in the process. Ken and Pewds can look after themselves...they’ve been doing this for years, running a club and dealing with people.

“I am.” Minx fixed her gaze onto the building before us as she spoke; her eyes filled with anxiety until she turned to me and leaned closer. “This club...it belongs to Joe.”

“Joe?”

“...Pewds never told you about Joe?”

“No.”

“Oh...” she murmured and must have noticed the curiosity in my eyes as she continued, “Joe used to work for them, back when the club was just starting out. They...the three of them, you should have seen them, Cry, they were inseparable, like brothers.”

“What happened?” I found myself asking but I was only half listening, my brain focused mostly on the three, long black cars that had pulled up outside the club.

“He disappeared one day, along with a huge chunk of Pewds and Kens money. They nearly had to close the club down...I have no idea how they managed to save it.”

A group of expensively dressed men stepped out of the cars before walking round to the back and pulling a briefcase out of the boot.

My heart stopped.

Another man appeared from the entrance of the club. A man in a black, oversized hoodie covering his face, with his hands in his pockets...but he glanced up for a moment, revealing a familiar white mask.

“Minx,” I whispered, grabbing her arm and pointing at the man. She watched with me, watched as the masked man was handed a small card, watched as he studied it carefully and pulled a small phone from his pocket.

“Is that your old mask?”

“Yeah,” I replied slowly and reached under the front seat, pulling my own poker face from the floor and pulling it around my head.