Enchanted (Princess Charming #2)

~Chapter Eleven~

Nathan Blake

 

 

After a full English breakfast and Jackson content sighs after eating, we headed off in the direction of this mystery guy that is working with my Uncle. Jackson drove because he thought I wasn’t fit to drove, nonetheless, he was finding it difficult driving on the left side instead of the right.

“England is so confusing. Why can’t they just drive on the right?” He complains and turns on his indicator.

“Because they want to drive on the left,” I counter and snigger when the car jerks forward. We drove for twenty minutes with beeping cars and double decker busses. You could see people in ties and blazers walking around on their coffees breaks. Londoners swarmed the place and the traffic was terrible, the car fumes entered our car and made me gag.

Jackson turns off next to an alleyway and cuts the engine. He ambles out of the car and brushes off imaginary dirt. I copy his actions and stare up at the three storey buildings which seemed like the place we had the address to.

Jackson jerked his head and beckoned me over to the doors. He pressed a button on the door but it was unresponsive. Turns out the door isn’t locked. I pulled the metal doors open and walked in, a damp smell and the stench of sweat made my nose wrinkle. The wallpaper was mottled and the plaster had crumbled into the linoleum floor.

The lift ahead had tape over the ajar doors which seemed jammed. I guessed we’ll have to walk up the flights of stairs. I started up them, following Jackson and not daring to touch the railings.

Thankfully, we were able to track the phone call back to the exact location and room meaning we knew exactly where this person would be. He could be armed so we’d have to be careful. If we start asking too many questions, he’ll get suspicious.

We find he room number and an understanding passes between me and Jackson. He knocks on the door fours times and we wait. The silence stretched and he knocks again but there’s no response.

“He’s not in,” I say in defeat and lean against the wall. “We wasted our time.”

“Not exactly,” Jackson said and extracted his keys from his pocket. He fiddled with them until he found his pocket knife. “Jackson, no.” I rebuked.

“Come on, the guy’s is out so we can look for stuff. You keep a look out.” And with that there was a click on the door lock and it swung open. I let out a held sigh and looked around frantically; however, Jackson strode in with ease and searched.

This room has this cologne aroma wafting around with sweat. I pulled a face and walked in, taking in the room. Papers were stacked everywhere, books were crammed into every space possible and on a small desk with marks and etches was a glass case with pens. There were all sorts, fountain pens, ball point, and gel. They were the only things properly organised.