Can You Keep A Secret?

Chapter Seventy-Six

       

-Andy's POV-

            "Are you sure this is legal?" I asked, glancing around the storage room. It was humid in here, and I could feel sweat starting to bead up on my upper lip. His laugh echoed around the place.

            "Actually, I'm fairly certain it's not." He stopped walking, taking a look back at me. "You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

            "No," I said, wringing my hands together. If the pay was really what he said it was, then it was well worth the risk. Besides, I couldn't think of any other way to earn £4k in one night, other than to become a prostitute for some rich girl desperately seeking a good bang. I didn't even know if a male could become a stripper, and that wasn't exactly something that I wanted displayed on my recent search history, either.

            That left me with only one option – helping out my buddy Josh, who just happened to be a part time drug dealer. I tried not to think about the fact that the job was dangerous enough that he'd was willing to hire somebody else to do it for him, and for such a huge sum of salary.

            I had given some mild excuse to Brooklyn about what I'd be doing, and texted Rye that I'd ran into some friends who I hadn't seen in a while and who dragged me into a night on the town, so I was covered. Still, I couldn't help but have a half-hearted hope that somehow, somebody would detect that something was up, and be able to pinpoint exactly where I was and save me from going ahead with what was clearly a stupid decision.

            I began to feel uncomfortable in my own clothing as the heat seeped straight into me, and I adjusted the sleeves of my shirt, as if that would somehow be able to fix everything. I paid close attention to every detail Josh described for what I had to do, writing down each step on a mental checklist – and praying that I wouldn't forget anything.

            My muscles tensed up and stayed that way as I helped him load the bundles I'd be delivering into his truck. I didn't ask what was inside, having no desire to know what it was – My speculations scared me enough. After a brief coaching session on what to say when I got there and if I got pulled over, he sent me off on my way.

            Ideas of what could happen to me or my career haunted me as I drove steadily along the highway, guilt and fear working together to create a lethal duo. It was funny, how the idea of death seemed so alluring until you were staring it in the face.

            I turned the radio on, hoping to distract myself, pretending that I was simply on a pleasure cruise. The reception was shitty and the music came out tinny, but I could make out what song it was anyways – Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do, whathca gonna do when they come for you? I quickly changed the station – I always feel like, somebody's watching me. I gave it one last try – I know I can treat you better, then he can.

            Giving up, I turned the radio off with a heavy sigh. The rest of the drive was spent in silence, the only sort of music being the jingling of the fuzzy pink dice hanging off of his rearview mirror, and the sound of my thoughts coming together into a terrifying scream song.

            At some point I spotted red and blue lights flickering in the corner of my eye and I heard the eerie wail of a police car and my soul straight up jumped out of my body, but, luckily for me, it dashed right on by.

            Now was the moment of truth – I stood at the delivery spot, a big, run down building surrounded by a chain link fence. I left the truck idling, just in case I needed to make a quick escape. My anxiety grew the longer I waited, and I became certain that there was no way possible that this night would end well. If whoever was waiting for me didn't kill me, then the police most certainly would.

            "Hello?" I called out into the darkness, unsure if they even knew that I was there – And, sure enough, my greeting prompted a figure to move in the shadows. I watched with trepid anticipation as they moved towards me. Either I was about to complete the deal or die – Either way, I was going to meet my fate.