AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s your job. I’m a guest here, yes? Now you handle it. Okay, fine, we discussed the ugly bits. Where did we leave off during our last meeting?”
“I believe we were discussing transportation.”
I sit back and listen as Peter and Reina talk about how they’re going to collect the goods, pack them, and move them from Marseille to Athens. They go over shipping lanes, friendly boat captains and container companies, but eventually rule it out. “The Greeks love to levy taxes on their imports,” Peter says and drums his fingers on the table.
“What about overland?” I ask looking between them.
Reina stares at me like I’m a giant talking parrot.
“Have you looked at a map of Europe lately?” Peter sounds patient but I can tell he’s annoyed I spoke out of turn. “There are at least six countries between Greece and France.”
“More, depending on how you go.” Reina taps a finger against her coffee cup. She’s constantly in motion, either lighting a cigarette, taking a drag, touching the table, fidgeting all around. The pent-up energy rolling off her is almost contagious and I find my leg jostling up and down. “Which means six governments to bribe and who knows how many other gangs to pay off. No, it has to be ships.”
“Marseille to Crete. We have friendly ports in Crete.” Peter frowns deeply. “I’ll have to run it past Balaska. We’ll need to find Greek captains though. Men that know the locals and won’t be checked.”
“Fine, Greek captains, but we want final approval on anyone you pick. And we will inspect the fucking ships when they show up on our docks, oui?”
“Oui,” Peter says, grinning.
Reina is not amused. “What’s next?”
I do my best to stay engaged but it’s difficult. As it turns out, running a drug smuggling operation between two major European countries isn’t simple, and the sheer amount of detail that goes into every little thing, from how much cash is needed to pay off the ship inspectors, to the guaranteed quality of the product moving both ways, to everything in between is overwhelming, and I suddenly understand why Peter needs an extra pair of hands.
It feels like they’re nowhere near finished when they agree to end for the morning and to reconvene in a few days. “I want the ships prepared by then,” Reina says, lingering outside of the cafe. “That is your job. Get me the captains and the ships so I can go back to my employers with something concrete.”
“I’ll get it done.”
Reina nods to him, turns on her heel, and walks off. She disappears into the crowd in a plume of smoke like she’s lumbering off to war. My sister walks with a loping gait, fast and broad, arms swinging.
“She doesn’t like me very much,” I say once she’s out of earshot.
“She doesn’t like anyone. Come on.” He starts walking in the opposite direction.
“Will this work? You seemed to think the ships were a bad idea at first.”
“They are a bad idea, but I can’t think of anything better. Greece takes their shipping seriously and cargo gets close scrutiny, but it might be better if it comes into Crete. We’ll be able to bring it into Athens in smaller batches from there which will be easier to hide.” I’m impressed by the way Peter’s already working out the details. “The hard part is finding reliable and corrupt captains that don’t mind risking their lives.”
“Sounds easy to me. We’ll drive on down to the captain store and ask around.”
“Funny. But here’s the thing. The Filo family controls most of the shipping in and out of Crete. Balaska has more power in Athens, which is good and bad. If we want to bring product through Crete though, we’ll have to get Filo on board, which means more bribes and more exposure.”
“It’s all a house of cards.”
“At least until the money starts flowing. Once everyone’s greased up with cash, the wheels will spin on their own. Until then, gravity can pull it all down.” He stops walking in the shade of some trees and faces me. I stand a few steps back from him, not willing to get too close.
The kiss is still fresh in my mind. The way he touches me, his low voice, his powerful hands, and that tongue, those lips. He tasted like grass and whiskey and I loved the way he bit me just hard enough to hurt. A thrill still sits in my core like it’s waiting for him to break down my barriers, and some crazy part of me wants to throw myself at him right now.
That’s a problem. A real, stupid problem.
“This is your chance,” he says quietly and I’m forced to move closer. I wonder if he’s doing that on purpose. If he wants me to get close. “There’s a line, Adrienne. It’s invisible and hard to define, but it separates us from them.” He gestures at the people milling about heading into cafes, talking on their phones, laughing with their friends. Average people living their average lives, the center of their own stories—banal, plain, everyday stories. “You haven’t crossed it yet, but you will, and there’s no turning back once you do.”
“What, I haven’t gone far enough? Watching you shoot a man and listening to you and my sister discuss how you’re going to smuggle drugs into this country isn’t over the line?”
“You don’t know enough to be a problem yet, but you will soon. If we keep going, we won’t be able to turn back. I want to give you the choice I was never given.” He stares at me hard and my pulse races. I understand this is important, but how important I can’t guess. What does it mean to turn back now? What it would mean for myself, for what I want? For the person I want to be?
I look at my hands. Soft hands, gentle hands. “Do you remember what I said last night, about teaching me?”
“I remember.”
