a/n: I asked atiyamunirx to make a cover for Reckless Hearts a while ago. Thank you so much. Here's the new chapter :) Please don't forget to vote and comment.
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Bryce's P.O.V.
Conner smelled like a fucking dumpster, and no one bothered to ask him what kind of mess he got himself into this time around. He stumbled into my uncle's bar, ten minutes till eight o'clock, and had a thin film of dirt covering his black jacket and around his neck. It was like he bathed inside of a sewer for the heck of it before he came downtown.
I didn't get the full effect of his stench until he plopped down at my booth and reached over for my drink. I swiftly smacked his hand back and scooted my drink closer to my chest. "What the hell happened to you?"
Conner's brows shot up to his hairline. He sat back and threw both of his hands up. "You're asking me what happened? For fuck sakes, Bryce, you're the one who told me to go meet up with Anthony!"
Slowly but surely, I started to recall what I wanted Conner to do for me with one of the south-side boys near the docks. They had a package of narcotics waiting by the waters. It wasn't for us. It was someone else's dope, but I had caught wind of the drop off last week. Jacking someone's product like that could get us in real trouble with rivaling gangs, but after the crack down on one of the labs by the bay, it was my only hope to start selling again.
Conner was the smartest person for the job. He knew the ends and outs of an operation like that and Anthony was familiar with the location. That's the only reason I'd ever let a low-ranking pipsqueak like him join in on something with high-stakes.
I lifted up my drink and took a long swig. "How did it go?"
"How did it go? How did it go?" he repeated, pointing to the dirt on his neck. Now that he was in close proximity, I was beginning to question if that was dirt on his neck or something entirely worse. "How do you think it went, Bryce? You've been breathing into your shirt since I walked in here."
"Okay, okay. I get it." Most guys wouldn't talk to me in that tone. They knew better than to raise their voice when they were speaking to me. I pulled up the collar of my jacket and inhaled into the fabric, hoping that would help. "Did you at least get the package?"
"Yes, I got the package. I dropped it off at the safe house. I need you to go with me so we can start cutting the kilo up into purchasable units together."
Fucking great. I bet the safe house smelled like him now. I'd have to wash it down with bleach before I could be able to work there.
I coughed into my jacket. "Alright. I'll get some people to help us, but we're not starting until you get a bath first. No way am I going to deal with you in this state. Why do you smell that bad to begin with?"
"You didn't really give us a time frame on when we should get the package. Either they had people nearby to warn them or they were already on their way, because the second we got the package, they started coming out of nowhere." Conner informed, leaning forward in his seat. Another wave of stench slammed into me, but I recuperated and tried to pay attention to the story and not the odor radiating off of him. "It was Anthony's idea to go into the sewers so we could lose them. Eventually, we lost them in the sewers and we were able to get back above ground."
"That's good news."
I wanted to ask Conner if he was able to weigh the package before he left it at the safe house, but there was a young couple shuffling past us, watching us as we talked. Even though my uncle Ricky's bar was just a fake upfront business to hide what was really going on behind locked doors, people still found their way into the bar and socialized near the pool tables.
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