On The Other Side

Chapter 7 - Veiled Shadows

CLAY
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"Clay!" George's voice rings out, filled with panic as he shakes me. I manage to open my eyes slightly, my vision still blurry, but I can sense the terror in his voice.

My mouth is so dry. It tastes like I've been sucking on a towel all night. George's worried expression eases as he realizes I'm awake, and he stops shaking me. The effects of cocaine begin to fade, and I start to gather my surroundings

"Fuck!" George exclaims, a mixture of relief and worry evident in his voice. He gets up from the bed, trying to process the intense emotions.

I roll over to reach the water bottle on the nightstand. I can't fully open my eyes because my whole head feels like it's about to explode. My hands are shaking.

I already want another hit.

"Fuck you, you scared the shit out of me!" George hisses and I can hear him moving around the room. "I thought you were dead," he says in a softer voice

I'm sitting up as I bring the bottle of water to my mouth and down the entire contents in two huge gulps. I toss the empty bottle across the bed and fall back onto my pillow. I'm still thirsty.

I try to open my eyes, but my vision is still hazy and foggy. Through the blur, I manage to catch a glimpse of George, visibly frustrated, pacing around the room with his hands in his hair.

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling guilty for scaring George, but I can't deny that what I did also made me feel really good.

"It's fine, I get it," he says with a sigh of relief. "Just next time, please tell me, so I can make sure you're okay," he adds gently.

I nod and take a deep breath. "I will," I reply, my voice showing my commitment.

As my vision clears, I look at George, only to find that he's not looking at me. "George," I call out softly, and he turns his back to me. A sinking feeling washes over me, and I think that he might be crying.

With my head still pounding with pain, I rise slowly from the bed and approach George. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I gently turn him around to face me. Tears stream down his cheeks, and without a word, I pull him into a comforting hug.

I feel so bad.

"I'm sorry," I whisper once more, my voice filled with genuine guilt, as I hug him even tighter.

He shakes his head, struggling to find the words. "I understand, I've been there, but I just..." he trails off, overwhelmed with emotion. I gently pull him out of the hug, and as I look at him, I can see the pain and heartache in his eyes.

With a gentle touch, my hands cup his face. George looks up at me, and I respond with a gentle nod that lets him know he can tell me anything.

"My mum overdosed, and I can't bear the thought of losing another person in my life to drugs," he chokes out, his voice trembling with emotion. The weight of his words echoes in my head.

With a heavy heart, I frown and pull him into another tight embrace, feeling the weight of his pain. "I'm sorry, Georgie," I whisper again, my voice filled with emotions.

Why does it hurt seeing him sad?

"I won't do it again without telling you," I whisper, my voice sincere. George nods, tightening his grip around me. "I promise," I add.

We stay like that until George's sobs calm down and after they do, I tell him to pack and explain today's plan to sell the drugs. Worried about his safety, I offer him to stay in the hotel while I go alone, but he insists on going with me. He knows the risks involved.

Leaving the hotel, we find a suitable hiding spot for the bike and skateboard in a nearby bush, ensuring they are hidden but easily accessible if we need them later. We know that we need a plan B and that is our plan B. It's not good, but at least we have it.

After making sure that the bike and skateboard are hidden, I call an Uber, and George and I patiently wait for it to arrive. Once the car arrives, I share the address that the leader provided, and we start driving. The tension in the air is noticeable as we ride to the destination, mentally preparing ourselves for what lies ahead.

During the entire fifteen-minute ride, George remains quiet, his gaze fixed on the world outside. As we come closer to our destination, my chest feels heavier with each passing moment. The mounting tension and uncertainty weigh on me, and I can't help but feel the significance of the situation. My mind is filled with thoughts of the risks and consequences, and the sense of responsibility for both of us becomes scarier.

"Thank you," I say, nodding at the driver as I hand him the money. He returns the nod with a friendly smile.

"I'll park down there," he says, pointing to the nearly empty parking lot. I nod in acknowledgment, and he drives off to find a suitable spot. The suspense builds as I watch him go, knowing that we're taking a big risk.

I paid the driver extra to wait for us, just in case anything goes wrong with those people.

As I glance at George, I notice he's looking around, lost in his thoughts. Finding me passed out with the needle on the floor must have affected him, explaining why he's quiet.

My heart is pounding so hard that I can feel it in my head, and my nerves are on edge. The fear of what's about to happen is overwhelming, but my main concern is George's safety. I didn't want him to come with me because I know how dangerous this situation can be. Despite the fear, I'm determined to protect him as much as possible.

As our eyes meet, I sense George's attempt to hide his nerves and anxiety behind a smile and a nod "We got this," he says gently. In that moment, I feel a little better, knowing that George is by my side.

Feeling a sense of relief wash over me, my chest feels lighter, and I take a deep breath in response. "We got it," I say with confidence. Just then, my phone dings, drawing our attention to the message notification. My nerves heighten once more as we prepare to face whatever the message is.

Reading the message from the mafia leader, my nerves intensify as I memorize the specific location we need to go. The red building to our right, with stairs leading to under a bridge, sounds like an alarming place to achieve this trade.

The gravity of the situation becomes even heavier, and I exchange a glance with George, who is likely feeling the same amount of anxiety. With a deep breath, I prepare myself for what lies ahead.

As I turn my phone to show George the message, his eyes scan the words slowly, taking in the information. I can sense his nerves reawakening, mirroring the intensity of my own racing heart. We both realize the risks involved in heading to that location.

"This way." George points to the right, looking at the red building. His nerves are evident, but his determination to move forward is equally clear. Following his lead, we begin walking toward the ominous location specified in the message. Each step feels like a leap into the unknown.

As we approach the red building, I remind myself to stay focused and cautious, knowing that our safety relies on our unity and caution.

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