That was messed up, I chuckle to myself.
I could feel her heart rate accelerating, the sweat beading off of her neck, and the rapid breaths exuding from her chest.
She was drunk. I'm drunk. And in that moment, I made her feel vulnerable. Miss perfect always keeps her walls up, but for a fleeting moment, I had knocked them down. Peeled the layers away until there was nothing left but the girl who lived beneath them.
She had froze like deer in headlights when I told her I liked what I saw. And hell, that tight black dress and those ocean blue eyes were enough to send me over the edge if, and I mean if, she wasn't who she was.
So I'm not going to lie and say it wasn't fun to rile her up a little bit. To finally gain control over the situation, when she has beaten me at my own game so many times before.
I'm vaguely aware of the blonde laying next to me, her hand underneath my pants. What usually turned me on, however, was turning me off.
I quickly rise, buttoning and zipping up my jeans, throwing my shirt back on.
"Get dressed," I bark.
The blonde starts to complain but one look and she quickly gets up, putting her sorry excuse for a shirt back onto her head.
I can't forget why I came in here in the first place. I received a text from an unknown number. I know it was from the gang. Every text we get ends with a code, in this case, a series of numbers. The code changes every week, and only a handful of guys in charge gives them out in person. That way, we know if we we're being framed by the cops.
The text instructed me to go into the homeowner's room and find a wad of cash. I've been to this guy's house before and I immediately knew it was Derek. Apparently this asshole is quite the user but took off with a large sum of cash before paying for his share of the drugs.
Now I'm the guy who needs to come and seek out retribution. Lucky me.
"It's time to go," I put my arm around Raquel's waist, or Rachel, or whatever this chick's name is, and usher her to the door.
She begins to whine, but I quickly shut the door in her face when she's on the other side and lock it. I need to do this quickly and efficiently.
If I was hiding a wad of cash in my room, where would it be? I look under the mattress and inspect it for any holes. Placing money in your mattress is too by the book, I decide. He knows better than to do that. What about the air conditioning vent? I flash the light from my phone into the dark tunnel but it's not there either.
Come on. Come on. I don't have a lot of time.
I check the drawers of his desk and dresser but it's not there either. I slam them shut.
Fuck.
Suddenly, the door handle begins to rattle. It's difficult to make out who it is, what with the music shaking the foundation of the house and drowning out all of the other noise from the other side of that door.
Quickly, I hide under the bed. If that's Derek, he has a key, and I can't risk him finding out what I'm doing. Not only would that cause a scene, but it would also give me away. And I've already been told what happens to gang members that are ratted out. Let's just say I wasn't going to do anything to risk that.
Besides, who knows if this guys gotta gun. If he's using drugs and stashing away this much money, I wouldn't put it beyond him.
The door opens a crack, a sliver of light making its way into the room, and someone steps inside, slowly clicking it shut. I can hear the click of high heels as someone began methodically hitting their heel against the wooden slabs on the floor. After a minute or so, one of them sounds hollow.
What the hell are they doing? I lift the blanket on the side of the bed, willing myself to see what is going on. Obviously, there's a girl in here, and I don't need to be a genius to know she's looking for something.
I can see three-inch black stilettos and what appears to be a black dress, as a girl is bending over, using a wrench to lift the wood right up out of place. Her breathing is steady and she seems to be calm and collected. She reaches her hand into the gaping hole and pulls out... cash?
Quickly, I scramble out from beneath the bed, the girl falling backward in the process. The side of her dress rips from the fall, exposing her pink panties and the side of her stomach.
"What the fuck!" We exclaim at the same time.
"What are you doing here?" Barbie's breaths are labored now, her eyes wide, manic.
"What are you doing here?" I demand, glancing between her and the bag where she was stashing the money.
Her eyes follow my gaze and she quickly throws the rest of the money into the bag.
"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" I grab her wrist, pinning it to her side.
"Let go of my arm and leave. Now," she barks.
Oh, hell no. Nobody tells me what to do, especially this blonde bimbo right here. And she is a bimbo for thinking she could get away with this serious cash in tow.
I need to collect myself. I have absolutely no idea what's going on. Is she Derek's girl? Did he send her to act on his behalf? To take the money before someone else had the chance to do it?
So he has girls doing his bidding now?
Well, I'll send him a little message.
"Can't," I shrug.
"Look, I know Derek is Captain of the football team and that he does a little bit of street racing, but he's not worth the trouble. Even if he does take you for a good ride. Trust me," I wink.
Her face turns bright red as she grits her teeth, glaring at me with those intense blue eyes. That only confirms my suspicion. I laugh.
"I need that bag. Now," I reach for the bag, intending to snatch it out of her hands, but she pulls it out of reach.
This is not how this was supposed to go, and I'm not sure if this chick is going to gossip to her friends after this is all over. But something tells me I can use that to my advantage. Maybe if I make her mad enough that's all she'll talk about, or she'll get up and leave. Besides, what's she going to say to her friends? I tried getting my boyfriend's drug money but Asher beat me to it? I don't think so.
Anything to protect that precious image of hers.
"So you're not a lesbian after all. What a shame. I would have loved to-"
"Why?"
Her eyebrows draw together in confusion as she looks down at the ground, clearly contemplating something.
"Why what? Why aren't you lesbian? That's something only you can answer. Although if you really wanna find out it wouldn't hurt to play-"
She seems annoyed now, as she slams the slab of wood back into place and stands up, bag of cash in tow. My eyes instinctively move on their own accord, glancing at the rip in the seem of her dress, before eyeing the bag.
"Why do you need this money? Answer me now," she asks slowly, gritting her teeth.
If she was drunk earlier, she certainly isn't now.
"The less you know the better," I sigh, holding my hand out for the bag. "Now are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?"
She closes her eyes for a second and sighs. My response seems to be enough for her as she silently hands over the bag.
She quickly strides over to the door, no emotion elicited from her face. I follow her but she puts her hand up.
"Don't follow me. Count to 100. Then go."
With that she opens the door, slides out, and clicks it shut.
I have no idea why I'm listening to barbie but I begin to count to 100.
After what feels like an hour of counting, I open the door and briskly make my way out.
I make my way to the front door, carefully making my way through a sea of drunk teenagers as I go. The less people that notice this bag, the better. Once I get to the front porch, I take the stairs two at a time until I reach the landing, stepping over piles of trash. As I step onto the sidewalk, a black tinted Escalade pulls up. Nobody said anything about that but I have enough common sense to assume that that's my ride.
I pull open the door and jump in, the cash in tow, and turn toward the guy sitting next to me. I've never seen him before. He has short light brown hair and hardened dark brown eyes. He's not smiling, but I swear I see a gleam in his eyes.
"So you're Asher, huh." He doesn't ask but rather tells me.
"Who are you?" I question, watching his face carefully.
The side of his mouth quivers. He looks amused.
"That's not important. What's important is that the job has been taken care of. You got the money, right?"
He eyes the bag and I nod.
"Good."
We sit in silence for a couple of seconds before he barks out in laughter.
"It was only a matter of time, man," his eyes crinkle. But he doesn't appear to be happy at all. He looks pissed off. His eyes don't match his demeanor.
"I kept telling him. You're letting your stupid little crush get in the way. She's weak and she's going to be the end of you. But he didn't listen."
His mouth drops into a thin line and his eyes harden in angst.
"He didn't listen," he says menacingly. His hands clench against the steering wheel, causing them to turn red.
I have absolutely no idea what he's talking or who he's referring to. I just want this night to be over with. I want to drop off the money and go home, not be stuck in a car with a very pissed off guy I don't even know but could probably get away with killing me if he wanted to.
Suddenly, his face becomes neutral once again and he loosens his grip on the wheel.
"We're here," he says.
We pull up outside of what appears to be a warehouse. I've lived in this town my entire life and not once have I ever seen this before, let alone knew it existed.
I guess that's why they've been able to stay under the radar for so long.
"Follow me," the guy orders as he gets out of the car.
Hesitantly, I do as I'm told and follow him through the large metal doors into darkness. I notice a few guys holding lighters, but that seems to be the only source of light in here.
Some of the guys look me up and down, but that's as far as the acknowledgment goes.
I have absolutely no idea why I'm here. Tonight has certainly been filled with firsts. The first time I've put a gun to somebody's head. The first time I've threatened a room full of witnesses. The first time I've met anyone this high up in the gang before. The first time I've been here.
Maybe they want to dispose of me once they get the money. I literally have no idea. The thought frightens me, but I tuck it away at the back of my mind. There's no way in hell I'm going out without a fight. But this guy didn't even appear to be pissed at me. He seemed like he loathed somebody else. I feel sorry for them. There's no telling what's coming their way.
"Black," somebody greets me.
It's extremely dark so I can barely make out his facial features but I'm certain I've never seen this guy in my life. He has curly hair and stands with confidence and authority. He looks me over a few times and sighs.
"Seeing as how someone let me down tonight, it's your lucky day."
I have no idea what he's getting at but somehow, I don't feel so lucky.
"You've been promoted."
The guy next to me throws him the bag of money. He catches it with ease.
"Don't let me down."
With that, he walks away.