Two months.
Two months since I've heard from her.
Maybe I shouldn't have kissed her that day, I'd been drinking, and now I regret it, but I can't do anything about it.
Now this Blake has arrived, and I'm not feeling it at all.
I've got to find out more, I can't let Joséphine get carried away with a guy she hardly knows. So I spent all night searching the Internet. I typed his name into the search bar, but there was nothing convincing on his Instagram profile, just subscriptions. So I searched Shawn's profile, then Jared's, and that's when I started finding interesting stuff. Blake is subscribed to some not-so-clean-looking people. I clicked on one of these guys' profiles at random, and hallucinated when I saw a photo of Blake with them, looking super comfortable, like they were old buddies. These guys are all hiding under weird aliases, and it really doesn't look good. I'm sure they don't really call each other by such stupid names.
Today, I'm going to hit all the bars in town within a radius where this famous photo was seen. I know it sounds a bit crazy and weird, but I don't want to lose Joséphine, let alone let her hang out with shady guys. She probably has no idea that her boyfriend, Blake, frequents these weird places.
I get up, get dressed in last night's clothes, grab my hat and head out of my hotel room.
I'm worried about what I'll find when I search these bars, or maybe I won't find anything at all. But then, a guy like Blake hanging out with fifty-somethings, I don't really get it, it just seems weird.
I'm in front of the first bar, it's a pretty busy place, but I don't think I'll find what I'm looking for there. Still, I figure you never know, so I take a good look at the front. It doesn't look like the right place. It's in the middle of town, there are only young people inside, not a single fifty-year-old. I quickly cross this place off my list.
I head for the second one, with a small glimmer of hope, but likewise, it's not the right one. I don't want to go into too much detail, I think I'll have to give up on this one.
The third one, too quiet, too pink, is definitely not the bar for me. I'd be surprised if Blake hung out in such a girly place.
The fourth, on the other hand, could really stick. It's in a small, deserted alley, a place that looks a bit seedy. I jump on my bike and head for this bar, my heart racing. When I get there, there's no doubt this is the place. The storefront is in total disrepair, with a neon sign flickering half-heartedly, almost on the verge of falling over. The dark, gloomy atmosphere is just what I'd imagined. I put my sweater back on to hide my face a little, and push my hat up to my nose. I really don't want to be noticed. I feel like an undercover spy in an unsavory place. I open the door to the bar, a hot flush coming over me. It smells of cigarettes and alcohol. It's definitely this one, I'm convinced. There are pole-dancing bars hanging from the ceiling, a badly aged wooden bar, and the stage looks like it's about to collapse. The sofas look comfortable, but I prefer to sit on one of the bar stools.
There's a heavy silence as I sit down, everyone staring at me. I'm sure they don't often see a guy covered from head to toe like me. I'm sure they've seen stranger things in their lives, but I'm still a little embarrassed. I order a drink, trying to look the part, not to seem too suspicious. I don't want to draw attention to myself, I just want to find out things discreetly. I listen discreetly to the surrounding conversations, but for the moment, there's nothing suspicious. Mostly it's about chicks and rock bands performing on stage tonight.
Nothing that can help me right now.
I'm holding my phone in my hand, pretending to type things, just so I don't look like a weirdo searching the place with my eyes. I cast a few discreet glances at the people arriving, just to see if there are any familiar faces. I'm startled when I come face to face with a big guy, the kind of guy who might be involved in some not-so-legal business.
"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.