The Evil That Men Do | $UICIDEBOY$ | $CRIM

1: Withdrawal

Winnie's POV

I woke up with my head on the kitchen counter and my laptop dead beside me. I blinked a few times before I looked around. The stools weren't necessarily a comfortable place to fall asleep at. There was a tense crick in my neck  so I had to hold it at a slight angle.

Okay. Guess that's what I get for passing out in the kitchen bar.

I plugged in my laptop and stood from the stool and proceeded into kitchen to brew my coffee. My father left the house to me and my brother to share. It was a nicer, smaller house. We lived in a smaller town on the outskirts of New Orleans in a decently forested area.

"How's the deal coming along?" I jumped, my brother's word's taking me by surprise. Gavin was the most quiet person I've ever met. Voice, footsteps, everything. Dead silent. So the fact he was in the kitchen for I don't know how long scared me. But I'm used to it now.

I sighed. "It's nearly closed. It's a matter of meeting the fuckers. They're a much bigger gang than normal, so they're a lot more cautious." I watched the coffee drip. "I don't blame them, but I'm not trying to get taken advantage of, yknow." The roasting beans filled the room with a delicious aroma.

Gavin shrugged. "I wouldn't think too much on it, to be honest. You're just like Dad when it comes to the communication side of things, I think it'll be alright." I nodded slightly, but sighed still. I was just a little nervous. I've always feared being fucked over since I am a woman. It was a men's dominated business, and it wasn't uncommon for abducting. Petrifying.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm over thinking it. I'll be fine." I nodded at Gavin, but the sinking feeling lingered. He proceeded to raid the kitchen, making an assortment of items for breakfast including eggs, bacon, oatmeal, toast, and orange juice. I took a couple slices of bacon and he slapped my hands both times, but I didn't care. It was funny.

I went to my room and got dressed. I couldn't help but worry about the deal in the process though. The man who I spoke with was named Ruby, or that's his alias, anyway. He sounded polite, a little too friendly if you asked me. That's what threw me off my game. It's not like every buyer is the same.

I shouldn't be worried.

"Hey, by the way, I have to leave for Greece tomorrow." I stopped in my tracks as I came back into the kitchen and stared at him.

"Huh? Since when?"

"Since big boss in Athens called about 30 minutes ago." I nodded, but fuck, was that sudden. Our clients were priority to our bosses—though we were higher up from dealers, we still had bosses—so we did as they told. We got to do other lower jobs, like deals with other gangs, and whatnot, for mid-amounts of drugs or arms. It was easy money for us. But we always had bigger jobs coming our way. Like transport, large cartel purchases, etc. This was one of them.

"What's the gang's name?" Gavin questioned, coming around to the dining room, where I stood.

"Grey59," I replied, blinking myself back into reality. "I've never met them, or heard of them. Upcoming and big, says word on the street. They have a decent reputation, credibility, and plenty of needs. I figured why not."

Gavin shrugged, glancing at me for a moment. "Be careful though. It's easy to be deceived." I stared at him as he walked back to his room to pack. I stood there dumbfounded, insulted, yet thankful at the same time. Really? Motherfucker just told me not to worry about it.

Well, he's right, in a way.

I sighed before going back to my laptop to secure it and make the deal of the week.