Keep Driving [h.s]

two

"You sure you can handle this tonight?"

Zayn sits next to me in the driver's seat, a hand resting on the wheel as we drive through the city to make it to our destination.

"I'm fine. Completely sober." That's half true. Today was a hectic day and I may have snorted a little too much after work. Clearly, I'm fine though. It's wearing off.

"Sure. Just don't take any shit tonight." He's not pissed at me, he's simply worried I'll overdo it. It happened a few times before but it never got out of hand. I was just knocked out longer.

I know what my body can handle and I'm still on my feet. Nothing bad's gonna happen.

When the car comes to a stop, I open my door and slip out of the vehicle. The fresh air does wonders to my spinning head as I inhale it deeply.

Zayn gets out after me, tucking his gun into his waistband as he makes his way over to my side. I'm already armed but it's not like there's a time I'm not. I'm always armed. You can never be too careful.

"Don't make a scene, yeah? It is a club but the locals don't know it's going to be full of men like us." His honey eyes stare into mine, adding to the intensity of what he's trying to tell me.

Tonight is an event of many. It happens often that we gather together and negotiate. You would imagine we have a secret spot somewhere in the middle of nowhere where all of us leaders sit down in tight slacks and discuss whatever business we have with each other.

That's not the case. We opt for something more civilian and blend in with ordinary people. Whoever has business with someone can talk in one of the back rooms.

There are only three rules, and they must not be broken.

Rule number one: Don't make a scene.

It's safe to say that sometimes business doesn't work out between people or they disagree on something. You can handle it in a low-key manner and deal with it somewhere away from the public.

Rule number two: No civils get hurt.

It happened too many times before the laws were set into stone that someone who was just trying to have a night out and let loose got killed or injured because of business. They were either in the wrong place at the wrong time or a mass fight broke out and they got involved in it. Now we're very cautious not to let things like such happen.

Rule number three: Never use the same location twice.

It's as simple as that. We don't go to the same place twice to have our meetups. It's easier to sniff around if they see the same shady-looking people every now and then together at the same club.

With that said, Zayn and I walk through the double doors once security nods their head toward us. They know better than to stop me. They were trained to know who I am.

Loud, blaring music courses through my veins as the colourful light flares on my skin. The air is heavy with booze, weed, sweat and desire.

Plenty of people are dancing close to each other on the dance floor, their bodies moulding together. From the warmth of so many bodies cramped up together, I already feel sweat forming at the back of my neck.

Descending on the stairs that lead us down to the dance floor, I'm slow with my movements, taking my time to analyze the room.

Immediately my eyes lock with Beau, the Frenchman who has a big hand in this line of work. Our business almost goes hand in hand so it's inevitable for us to meet.

I see Andrew and his crew from the Canadian border, then Jackson and his son from California. All of these men here are from different parts of the country or different places around the world.