#14 Freight

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~ A Tale of Two Cities - J. Cole ~

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"Only 28 thousand," I tell Grey as I finish counting. He curses under his breath and reaches into his pocket pulling out his wallet. He tosses it onto my lap and I take all the money out of it and count it. "30k now."

He sighs as he parks. I look around, realizing we are not in Ridgeview anymore. The town we are in looks run down and really old. The warehouse in front of us looks broken down and as if no one uses it anymore.

"Stay here for a second," Grey says before leaving. I watch through the rearview mirror as he walks to the back of his car. I can't see anything he does, except adjusting his pants and pulling out a bag. He walks back around to my side of the car and opens the door.

He tosses a duffle bag on my lap. "Put the cash in there," he says before popping off the lid of a bottle of alcohol. He opens his throat, chugging down the hard liquor.

"Grey, don't drink. You're driving," I remind him as I shove the money in the bag.

He pulls the bottle away from his lips and takes a deep breath. "Yeah well it'd be a lot easier to drive if I wasn't in pain. Let's go, I can't leave you out here alone," he says. I stand up and look around the town.

"Grey where are we?" I ask.

"Jacksonville. Don't freak ou-"

"Fucking Jacksonville!" I exclaim. Grey clamps his hand over my mouth. Jacksonville is a town with the highest criminal rates in the city and top ten for the country. What the hell are we doing here? It's basically a town filled with murderers, rapists, gangs and drug lords.

"Harley, you're fine. Do what I say, when I say, don't go wandering off, stay in my view. Got it?" I nod since my mouth is occupied by his hand.

He let's go and snatches the bag from my hold. "Let's go!" I follow him, right by his side as we walk into the warehouse. He leads us down a couple of halls before knocking on a door. He opens it, defeating the purpose of knocking.

I notice a man sitting down in a chair, a cup of whiskey in his hand and the bottle sitting on the table. He has scars on his face, and is wearing a suit with possibly blood on it. "Leave," he orders the two other men in the room. They walk out and Grey takes my hand leading me to the couch in the room.

I sit down right next to him. "West, you have it or not?" His voice is deep and firm. Not in a good way like Grey's, in a scary, frightening way.

And let me tell you I'm so scared I could piss my pants. The room is dark, a dim lamp in the corner, that barely works, illuminating the room. "More than half, Larson is bringing the other half." Grey's voice is kept calm and firm as if he's done this a hundred times before.

He shakes his head. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Not good enough."

The door opens and four men enter. They all stand behind who I believe is Cujo. "Greyson, Greyson, Greyson. You should know better than to have my money ready. Two minutes for Larson," he continues speaking. He reaches into his pocket and tosses something heavy on the ground. He turns back around and begins talking with the men who entered the room.

I look down and gulp when I see it's a gun.

I look at Grey with sheer panic in my eyes. "You're fine. They aren't going to hurt you," he whispers.

"Grey that's a fucking gun," I whisper back.

"Just chill out, you're fine," he reassures. But nothing his words are reassuring. They're cold and empty as if he doesn't know the truth either. Whether they will or will not hurt me.

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