SO COLD (18+) currently editing

Chapter 17

CHARACTER VIEWS DO NOT REPRESENT MY OWN. Please be civil in the comment section.

Qiang had rented out a white Volkswagen Tiguan. Shanghai was a city of skyscrapers and roads made for gods. Roads swept through the city in spirals and circles and ducked under and over other roads, like threads of an elaborate patchwork quilt, all entwined together like lovers. It appeared chaotic at first glance, I was getting ready for cars to drive into each other in an explosion that would shake the city and crumble the structure but on second glance, the highways that almost touched the sky were built with enough distance between them that would satisfy bitter and hateful ex-sweethearts. It was a maze of concrete roads and everyone knew where the exit was; we were stuck in lasting queue after queue and there was no yells or swears – not like there would be in England.

Irvin succumbed to weariness; falling asleep besides me in the backseat of the car. Transfixed with the breath-taking view of twinkling structures and entangled deep in the infrastructure of Shanghai city, I didn't pick up on the change in the atmosphere of the car – at first. I was occupied with the thought of being lost in this city by the guarding sea; and being totally fine with the idea. It was a humid night; and my clothes stuck to me like a layer of dirt I couldn't wash off. Glad that the windows were open and I had thoroughly sprayed my underarms with deodorant, I tried not to fidget. I was not used to this weather; England was haunted by fat clouds of rain and wind throughout the whole year. Getting a tan in England was the equivalent of attempting to find an honest banker – impossible.

I redirected my attention to Qiang; he clutched the steering wheel with the impression that if he let go he'd die. Straightening up seconds later, he coughed softly. He reached out to touch the radio only to retract his hand at the last second. To say he was uneasy would be an understatement. I wondered if the sweat on his forehead was because of the heat or because of Cole. The man was angled towards Qiang and while his face was slack, his hands were busy; tapping almost manically on the side of his thigh. I wondered about him. Did he have a sob story for a childhood? An abusive and drunkard father or a drug-abusing mother who slid down a pole to pay for the bills? Perhaps he was the loner child who was the target for bullies and now he's this – this ... gang leader? He showcased violent tendencies but he had a business side to him. He loved his money and he had a clear head on him – sometimes, when he wasn't acting like a little bitch. Clearly he had built his own government and police state in which he was president. Jade obviously wasn't a fan of him or any of his men yet she still got involved with him. Rather than going to the police she headed towards him with money.

She was so shady and hypocritical; berating me for copying her. I wasn't in business with them, just friends with Irvin, maybe James. Definitely not Doriano. I didn't really know Charlie or anyone else. The more I thought about them, the more I felt uneasy; why was I on the other side of the world with criminals – it was clear as day that this wasn't a holiday.

I was dumb as hell.

***

Rather than a hotel, Qiang had arranged for us to stay at an apartment. It was near the library station and near Gaoyou Road and Wu Kang Lu, according to Qiang who waited long enough to pass Cole the key and take out the suitcases from the boot of the car before backing out, narrowly missing a tree as he drove away. There were one or two people out on their bikes and other than the sound of muffled music, it was quiet.

The apartment was eccentric and small. There was a lime green sofa with scatter pillows orange scatter cushions and a coffee table with a wrapped parcel: Cole tore it open and set down a circle tray. "It's Xiaolongbao," Cole added to Irvin's look of confusion, "food, dumbass."

Xiaolongbao looked like white dough balls with a pinched look on its top. It was a dumpling with soup which Irvin eagerly ate after puncturing the dumpling wrapper and slurping the soup noisily.