Our fallen souls [EN] (High Enough) : VOLUME 1

48 - Joey

"What?" I ask, irritated.

"Who are you?"

Panicked, I quickly look for an excuse. "A friend of Shawn's. Mike, nice to meet you," I say, holding out my hand.

Mike? Why did I choose that name?

He squeezes my hand with all his might, and for a moment I feel like he wants to crush me. "John. You don't come here often, do you?"

John... I repeat his name mentally to remind myself.

"Uh, no, not really."

John, the guy in the photo with the shady guys! That's the guy!

"Why don't you join us?" he asks calmly, giving me a gentle tap on the shoulder.

"Join you? Work here?"

He bursts out laughing. "Did Shawn tell you we were in a gang? What a jerk."

I beg your pardon? A gang?

"A gang?" I ask, laughing slightly to mask my curiosity.

"He didn't even tell you we were just playing cards?"

"Yes, he told me you were a group of gamblers, or something like that."

He laughs again, then gets serious. "Listen, mate, if you're not too cold, and you need some easy cash, come and see me again."

He stands up and pulls up his torn denim pants. When my gaze falls on a weapon, a Glock to be precise, I freeze.

The worst is about to happen.

These are criminals, killers perhaps. And the smell of weed... I wouldn't be surprised if they were drug dealers too.

Joséphine, what have you gotten yourself into?

I'm about to leave, but a voice stops me dead in my tracks and pins me to the stool. "Hi, John. We're going to have a meeting tonight. Shawn and Jared have been acting up lately. We're barely making any money anymore."

Blake.

That's him, I'm one hundred percent sure. His voice is imposing and strong when he addresses the others. My suspicions are confirmed: he really is one of those crazy people. I hide further so he doesn't notice me.

"Fine, I'll call the others."

Fuck, Joséphine must be revising for her second test while her boyfriend goes off to sell drugs. Just the thought that I can't even ask her how the first one went a week ago twists me.

A draft behind me signals that he's gone. I take the opportunity to pay and get out of the bar as quickly as possible. In my head, everything is getting confused, and I have to think calmly.

Is he a real danger to Joséphine? I'm not sure. Maybe he's really in love with her...? No, that's impossible. Guys like that don't fall in love.

Determined to find out more, I take a tour of the establishment. I've got to find out what's going on. Eventually, I find a door at the back of the bar, hidden behind a faded curtain. It opens with ease, creaking slightly. I slip discreetly inside, trying to remain invisible to spy on their "meeting". The room is lit by a small lamp hanging from the ceiling. It's a sort of basic kitchen, with worn utensils and chipped cups arranged on mismatched shelves. A large corkboard hangs on the wall, covered with photos and pinned notes. My eye is drawn to a photo of Blake pinned to the center of the board. This photo is connected to another spot by a red thread, as if it were a meticulously elaborate plan. The painting then shows several faces, all linked to different places by threads of various colors. Next to each photo are scribbled notes, indicating dates and times of deliveries. I recognize Shawn and Jared in one of the photos, confirming my suspicions.

A husky, muffled voice echoes through the building's dilapidated walls from the adjacent room. My survival instinct compels me to hide, and without thinking, I slip into the narrow space of a nearby storage locker. My breath becomes lighter, almost inaudible, as I try to master the fear that's creeping up on me.

I hold my breath, praying they don't notice my presence.

"Tonight, we have a big delivery to make. Five hundred grams of cocaine, outside Seattle. Jared and Shawn will oversee the exchange. John will take care of the details, and I'll make the delivery. We should be home by twenty-one, tops."

"And why not more?" asks a woman.

No voice answers.

"I knew it, you're going out with that other slut. Why are we acting like it's normal for our boss to date a chick who's got nothing to do with us? This is not going to end well, Blake!"

"Speak better of her, and it's not your problem."

The speed with which Blake defended him left me on my ass.

"Bollocks! It's all our problem!" replies the woman.

"If she finds out, you know what'll happen," adds a voice that sounds like John.

It's out of the question for Joséphine to join your... group.

"That's what you're waiting for, for her to find out, just so you can do your show and turn her fucking life upside down," Blake replies bitterly.

What the hell is he talking about?

"In any case, when she finds out, we'll have to act accordingly," adds the woman before a door slams shut.

"It's out of the question for her to join us, it's far too dangerous," Blake finally concludes, before another door slams shut.

The room fell dead silent.

Taking advantage of the lull, I discreetly slip out of the building. The words exchanged have left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Blake seems to care about Joséphine more than I thought. But what's this really about? Damn it, Joséphine, if you only knew...

I realize I can't tell Joséphine anything, she wouldn't believe me. She doesn't trust me anymore, and that would destroy her.