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“This is our warehouse. We keep most of our weapon supply here. The rifles and pistols we sell come through here before being distributed to our buyers.”
I listen as he talks and walks at the same time, dragging me along behind him.
“We don’t sell to anyone here in town, with the exception of Emil. Our guns get sent all over the world. People in Mexico, Ireland, even China buy them. Cedric knew people from all walks of life. He traveled the globe going to car shows, meeting new people, and pitching them offers they couldn’t refuse. He had a knack for being able to pick out criminals in a room.” He laughs, then walks us through the door.
The inside doesn’t seem nearly as big as the outside. Steel beams run across the ceiling, metal walls encase us, and wooden cedar boxes sit stacked messily all over the floor, some with Chinese or Japanese markings on them in bold red font.
My eyes bounce around the entire warehouse, taking in every detail. The bank didn’t really get to me. I mean, it’s money. Who is bothered by money? But this… this is most definitely illegal. I should feel wrong or have a sense to tell someone, but I don’t. I feel at peace, relaxed, and it kind of scares me.
This, and everything I have with Teddy, is the polar opposite of how my dad raised me. Or maybe, this is exactly why he raised me the way he did. Not his stellar moral code, or his intense desire for the right kind of justice, but the way he taught me to defend myself, and ultimately kill. Maybe he knew I would end up in the same web he did and wanted me to be prepared.
I close my eyes and breathe in the air that is mixed with cedar, unburnt gunpowder, and Teddy’s scent, letting my shoulders relax even further. “I feel at home.” I open my eyes and look at Teddy. His head is lowered as he stares at me with complete admiration, and it hits me.
I would walk through the depths of hell for him and let the flames eat me alive with a smile on my face. This. This is where I belong.
