TONY: Book 1 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]

10:

I sit next to him in his expensive, black sports car. It smells new, it looks flashy and quite frankly, I feel scared to even sit on it's plush leather seats in case I ruin them with my poverty. I'm not even poor, but I feel it inside this Transformer. The drive is silent with Toro barely moving, other than to steer the wheel and occasionally look left and right. We're in the dodgy part of the city. People stare at us with nonchalance as if they're used to seeing a sports car worth more than their lives.

"What if someone breaks into the car?" I question, the words tumbling out from my mouth.

"That would be stupid."

Parking the car in an isolated alley, he slips out and I follow suit. I gently shut the car door behind me and he locks it, before looking me up and down and looking away. What the hell's his problem?

"So, Toro," I say unsurely. "Where we going? What are we doing? I've got college tomorrow so if we can speed this up-"

He groans, "Do you ever shut up?"

I roll my eyes and imagine calling him a million curses, but when I realise he's moving away from me, I'm quick to follow him. Don't fancy getting stabbed today. We cross the street filled with potholes and is dimly lit, gaining long stares our way.

"We're going into a building," he tells me in a hushed voice.

I blink, "Okay?"

"There will be shooting. There will be dead people- it's your job to not get shot at and to destroy their supply," he smirks a deadly smirk. "I'm sure you know how to do that."

"Ha ha ha," I deadpan. "Very funny."

He shrugs and hands me a lighter and a can of deodorant, putting two and two together, I frown at the idea of using these.

"I'll do the shooting, you stay in the dark and hidden. Oh, and don't get caught," he advices before continuing walking down another street.

"Don't get caught," I mimic underneath my breath. "Don't get caught by people with drugs, money and guns."

He crouches behind a large bin and I follow, silently gipping at the stench of rotten fish and urine. He draws out two pistols and I freeze at the sight, my breath catching in my throat.

He glances at me, rolls his eyes and flicks off the safety on his guns. My mouth dries as he turns to me and whispers, "Find another route in. I'll keep 'em distracted."

I don't know what posses me, but I reach out and grip his bicep. He tenses underneath my hand, but I don't pay it any mind, "Will you be safe?"

He pauses, before shrugging off my hand to send me a cold glare. Standing up, he moves in and out of the shadows to the building, before silently opening the door and slinking into the house. I give it a minute. It's either the bin or my fear, but a wave of nausea sweeps over my stomach, causing me to go queasy and shaky.

"Come in," I whisper to myself. I don't know how I do it, but I manage to stand up on hollow legs without falling over. I tell myself I have to do this, the pressure of such responsibility crushes me and I struggle to breathe. I try to copy Toro's movements, in and out of the shadows, slinking behind objects, but then I remember I need to find another way in. Another way in. Cursing underneath my breath, I scout a different route, looking for a way in that is not the front door. I grimace as I walk to the side of the building, between another building that is taller. I spot a window and my heart skips a beat. Keeping, my back pressed against the damp wall, I slip beneath the window and pause at the height. I try and lift up the window, but its locked. Fuck.

Huffing in annoyance, I continue down, my heart pounding too loudly as if about to leap out of my throat.

I make my way back of the building, instead of green, there's a layer of concrete with two cars and a thin road leading to this drive.

I find an opened window to the far left of the back door and I bite my lip. Groaning, I pocket the lighter and deodorant before heaving myself up on the window ledge, peeping into the room- it's the kitchen with nobody inside. I swallow bile and push my skinny frame the rest of the way in, the building is deadly silent and I feel that my ragged breathing is too noisy.

Biting my tongue until I taste blood, I take long, slow strides around the kitchen, searching for any signs of drugs. Waiting for Toro's queue of gunfire, I take a second to peep out of the ajar kitchen door- the sight of the dining room greet me, with a white door on the other side of the table. I go to enter, only a body passes the door and I flinch, instantly ducking out of the way of the door.

"...they shouldn't know that we're here. I mean, they're incredibly gullible, especially after our last interaction."

"I don't think it's smart to underestimate them," mutters a voice.

"Well, they underestimate us. The 'Gufo' and 'Leone'- why do they have to do it in Italian?"

"Maybe because they're Italian?" Comes the second voice blankly.

"Shut it," snaps number one. I risk a peek again and notice them opening the white door into a room lit by blue fluorescent light. The smell of marijuana fills the air.

"How much should we sell a bag?" Asks the second one.

"I'm thinking ten dollars? Or maybe fifteen?"

"Perhaps we should sell it cheaper first to get more customers. They sell it as twelve dollars."

"Well, we're not them," snaps number one.

A pause.

"Where's Joe?" Asks the second one.

"Joe?!" Shouts number One. "OI JOE!"

BANG!