Elizabeth was a no-one. She lived in a small house, with her son who she could barely take care of, and a cat who wouldn't go near her. She wasn't a lawyer like her sister or the doctor her aunt wanted. She sold drugs to the people of New Mexico, sp...
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The vibrations of my phone startled me as it rang through the pocket of my jeans. Turning down the volume on the TV slightly, until it's left on a soft chatter and press the answer key without hesitation.
"Hi Jesse" I smirk, my aunt poking her head out of the kitchen for a moment and rolling her eyes
"Hey, is this a good time to talk?" He sounds tired, his voice long and thin, I can almost see the bags under his eyes.
"Yeah, what's up?" I move off the couch into the small side office, closing the door behind me.
"Mr. White wants to cook again" I wasn't surprised at Jesse's revelation, once the money stopped rolling in, it was only a matter of time before Mr. White would seek more. Beginning the vicious cycle once more.
"Is that all he said?" I ask, chewing my nail whilst I walk in slow circles around the room.
"Nah, he started going off on how he's the cook and I'm the street guy, and we should stick to those roles like he's a fucking drill Sargent or something."
"What am I? The secretary? <<Um, Mr. Pinkman sir, you have an appointment for 3:00 with a prostitute who wants a gram, also here's your latte." I purposely rendered my voice more squeaky, as to illicit some laughter from a stressed Jesse Pinkman, and I smile as his raspy chuckle came through the phone.
"I wish someone did that but no... Mr. White said you'll help both parties. You're like our joker card ya know? A secret weapon."
"Don't flatter me Pinkman, but fine, when are we meeting?" I hear footsteps outside the door, followed by a small knock just as Jesse answers my question.
"Thursday, I'll meet you at the usual spot." Hunter knocks once more, eager for me to emerge from the room as I nod to Jesse's words, even when no one was around.
"Ok, I gotta go, Jesse, see you soon-" Before I press the red button, I hear him call my name again, making me stop.
"Yeah?"
"No more bloodshed" And with that, it goes silent, the phone suddenly feeling heavier as I pondered his words. Can this job truly be done with no spilled blood?
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