Tell Them This When I Die

The Best Hiding Place For Ten Pounds of Cocaine

The moonlight shines in the roadside puddles as Eris makes her way across the abandoned lot. Her heels—the new ones she bought on the walk home—click softly in the night.

The Maserati is silent and ominous, alone in the lot. The summery air is smooth on Eris' skin as she approaches the car. She looks around the structure once. She can see the rubber the cars laid down. He switched from his unmarked car to the marked car right in front of the abandoned Maserati. All he had to do was lean out his window and pry open the trunk.

She pulls the keys from her pocket and presses down on the button.

The trunk of the Maserati lifts slowly, the car flashing once.

Eris takes a step closer to the car, peering into the limited space the Maserati offers as storage. The boxes blend into the black leather as she leans into the car and pushes one of them to the side, beginning to count.

Twelve boxes, just like when she loaded them up that morning. All full, all packaged.

She glances behind her once more as she shuts the trunk. Closer and closer calls.

She starts up the car and backs it out. The city lights are blurry in the humid air, the roadside signs lighting up fluorescent colours. One billboard near city center costs a lot of money, and Eris wants that massive one on the Celestial Tower to advertise Nyx. But they quoted the price at five hundred thousand dollars, which she would never pay out of her own pocket.

Nyx, the multi-faceted establishment that Eris owns, lies halfway down Carlton Street. She despises the name Carlton, so she's slightly amused to see the construction crews packing up for the day after replacing the street signs and officially renaming the road Nephele Avenue. It's almost as if Eris picked out the name herself. A Greek street name, for the Greek company, for the Greek owner.

Nyx has valet services, but Eris doesn't let anyone touch the Maserati. Not this one, not the one Adam crushed today, and not the seven others that are hidden around the city.

Eris spins the keys in her hand as she leaves the Maserati safe in her personal parking spot. Nikolas is on her the minute she shuts the car door.

"You went to pay fines at the police station with that shit in your car?" he whispers, tapping the trunk to get her to open it.

Eris presses the button again, and the trunk opens. Nikolas leans over just as she had, his dark hair curling into his eyes as he counts the boxes.

"There is not a less statistically likely place for ten pounds of cocaine to be hiding, Niky," Eris points out.

"You're reckless," he snaps back.

Eris points a long finger at him. "You're uptight."

Nikolas follows her as she flicks her fingers towards the man at the door, silently telling him to unload the car.

"You could've gone city-center during that chase," Nikolas presses, watching her give her coat to the next man. "You did the U-turn specifically to play with him."

Eris walks down the hallway to the bar with ease. "Playing with Adam is one of my favourite pastimes," she says.

"That, and suing the cops, apparently. Listen, Eris, you're playing with more than Hughes with these constant lawsuits. One of these times, you're going to get a judge you can't bribe. A loophole you can't find."

Eris turns around abruptly, and Nikolas' chin nocks into her forehead. He sighs in frustration, then looks down at her.

Eris searches his eyes, and he starts to feel slightly uncomfortable. He'll happily do a numerous range of activities in close range with her, but he avoids sharing her gaze for too long.