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I laugh as I light a joint. “No fucking way. This is your problem now. I got it here, you fucking handle it.” I step closer to him and offer him the joint. He gives me a disgusted look and I laugh, shrugging my shoulders. “It’ll help you relax.”
“I have nothing to worry about,” he says.
“Whatever you say, agent asshole. I’m not sad to say this is where we part ways. I wish you all the bad luck life has to offer,” I say, pulling out my phone.
He laughs and I look up at him. “We’re far from done, Mr. Giddens.”
I lunge at him and pin him against his car. I’ve had enough of this shit. I get in his face and my heavy breathing is blowing across it. “What the fuck do you want? I’ve killed a man and smuggled drugs for your piece of shit pathetic ass. What’s your fucking game?” I growl.
The rage I’m feeling forces me to keep him pressed against the car. If I let him go I’ll beat him to death.
“You’ll continue to do what I ask of you unless you want me to rip up those papers and arrest Gillian right now,” he says, trying to push me off him.
He can try all he wants but my anger is far greater than anything he’s feeling. He’ll never budge me. He keeps using Gillian’s arrest and I want to call his fucking bluff, but I promised her. I gave her my word that she was taken care of.
“What now?” I hiss.
“Get the fuck off me.”
I’m shaking with rage as my eyes bounce between his. “I’m known for reacting before thinking. You’re fucking lucky I’m thinking shit through right now because putting a fucking bullet in your head is what I really want to do.”
“You’re smart to think things through. Killing me will only put you away for the rest of your life,” he says, a bit nervous.
“Why do I doubt that? I have a feeling no one would be missing your pathetic ass,” I growl.
For the first time I see fear in his eyes, but he tries to hide it with his words. “So kill me and find out.”
We stare at each other and when I know damn well I’m not going to do shit, I back away. I run my hands through my hair and shake my head. What the fuck is his game? None of this makes any sense.
He pulls an envelope out of his pocket and hands it to me. “Deliver this to the address written on it.”
I look inside and my eyes widen. “What the fuck? How much money is this?”
“I need this dropped off made immediately,” he says, pulling his phone out. “Time is ticking.”
“For what?” I shout.
He lifts his head away from his phone and smiles. “Be here tomorrow at eight in the morning.”
I walk away, worrying more than ever that maybe I’ve gotten into something bigger than I can handle. I don’t even have a ride home and there’s only one person who can know I’m here.
I push the phone to my ear and hope she doesn’t ignore me.
“Riley?”
Thank fuck. “Hey, baby girl.”
Her voice immediately relaxes me and the rage I was feeling is gone.
“What’s wrong?”
“I need a ride home and if I call anyone else they’re gonna ask questions. I hate asking f
or your help, but just this once, can you pick me up?”
I don’t want her to know about the warehouses, so I walk two blocks over asking her to meet me there. I can hear the uncertainty in her voice and it fucking breaks me. She still doesn’t think she can trust me.
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
