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But I didn’t get what I wanted.
He was so damn hard to understand sometimes. I practically threw myself at him. All he had to do was come in the shower with me, touch my body once, and I was all his. He would’ve felt me dripping wet, saw my hard nipples, the goosebumps on my skin. He would’ve known.
Instead, he left me angry and confused.
“We need to be careful here.” He stared out the windshield at the building. The windows were boarded up. Graffiti covered the doorways—gang tags in black and purple and green.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“No,” he said. “But my guys have been inside for a few hours already. They’ll keep an eye on things.”
“Really? They’ve been here that long?”
“Got to get in first, set the stage for things. Make sure Clifton’s not going to try anything.”
“Why does he want to talk now?” I looked out the window and slid further down the seat. “I mean, he just attacked twice. Seems like it doesn’t matter what he says at this point.”
“Clifton thinks he’s some kind of tactical genius. He probably thinks attacking without provocation was his way of knocking me off my game. Now he’ll try and negotiate for something.”
“Seems insane.”
“He’s not as smart as he thinks he is.” He opened his door. “Come on, you’re coming with me.”
I didn’t argue, even though it scared the hell out of me. I knew this was a dangerous situation no matter how much time he had to prep. Things went wrong with guys like this as I’d already found out twice now.
But I’d come this far. I was in it now, deep in it. I’d seen men killed in front of me and I was pissed off at that. Nobody had to get hurt, and yet Clifton and his stupid gang thought they were bad asses and kept attacking like morons. I wanted that shit to end so I could sell my stupid pills and move on with my life.
I followed him around the side of the building. A boarded-up doorway stood facing a field strewn with rocks, weeds, and rotting wood. He yanked a board and pried it free, revealing an opening inside.
“After you.”
I sniffed the air. It was moldy and damp. I slipped in through the gap in the wood. He came in a moment later, leaving the board slightly ajar.
“What was this place?”
“Used to store tiles and other shit here.” He walked past me down a short hallway. Several rooms lined the left side but most of the doors were shut. Black mold bloomed on the ceiling and used condoms, syringes, empty alcohol bottles, and other garbage covered the ground.
I couldn’t imagine spending any amount of time in a place like this, and yet sings of humanity were all over the place. One of the rooms had a mattress in it and a shopping cart filled with cans parked next to it.
Owain turned right at the end of the hall and pushed open a set of double doors that led into a huge, wide open space. It must’ve been the main storage area at one point. High windows let shafts of light down onto a wet floor. Stacks of rock and some old, shattered tiles were left over from the building’s original use. I didn’t see anyone around, but Owain strode into the middle of the space and spread his hands.
“Welcome,” he said, “to paradise.”
I made a face. “This is paradise?”
“Nah, it’s a shit hole.” He picked up a rock and threw it up at the broken windows. It flew through, just barely missing a bit of the leftover glass.
“Easy there,” a voice said. I jerked around as Rolan walked over with Viktor smoking on his heels.
“You see anyone?” Owain asked.
“Quiet all night.” Rolan stretched and yawned. “I hate this place. You now that, right? All this fucking mold’s bad for the lungs.”
“Definitely,” Viktor said, taking a long drag.
Owain laughed. “You two sound like such babies. Now get in position. Clifton’s going to show up soon.”
“Roger that, boss.” Rolan motioned and Viktor followed them. They disappeared through side doors.
I walked around the outside of the warehouse space and lingered down near the docking area. A big gap in the floor was cut out for trucks to pull up. I imagined men loading them up, straining to lift heavy bundles of tile. This place used to have a life, used to have a purpose, and now it was a crumbling wreck of a building, populated by the homeless and by addicts with nowhere else to go. It was filled with memory and tragedy. I wished someone would buy it and bring it back to life.
“What are you thinking about?”
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
Owain joined me near the loading bay. “Come on. You’re thinking.”
“Just about this place. All the people that used to be here. And the people that still show up.”
