The Lucky Doberman

Chapter 7: Jammed Guns and Job Changes

Mr. De Luca had taken the bag out of my hand once we reached the car.

"Get in," he commanded as he walked to the trunk.

I watched him slap it twice and it opened.

I climbed into the car like he told me to.

He came in soon after I heard a slam of the trunk.
"Cage." he stated and the driver drove off.
I wondered what that meant.

"Where are we going now?" I asked kindly.
"You ask a lot of questions," he pointed out.
"I think I'm a curious person," I snickered.
He didn't respond.

It's like working for a brick wall.

The chauffeur drove around much faster than you would expect an average chauffeur would. We should have been pulled over at least three times.

"Mr. De Luca." I called.
He looked at me. "Mr?"
"Is that not what I'm supposed to call you?" I asked nervously.
He thought on it. "Ask your question." he instructed and changed the subject.
"What do you do?" I wondered.
"I own casinos."
"Oh, okay."

I guess I could've come up with that answer on my own.

"So what exactly does my job consist of?"
"Whatever I tell you."
"To an extent, right?" I clarified.
He looked at me.
"Like, nothing that will make me uncomfortable?"
"What?"
"Like...I won't have to...take my clothes off...right?"
"No." He looked at his phone again.
"Oh," I scoffed.
"You want to take your clothes off?" he questioned.
"No! No, it's just...when you say whatever I just thought..."
"You thought I'd take advantage of you?" he replied nonchalantly.
"No...not necessarily." I was starting to feel like I made it seem like I thought he was a creepy and untrustworthy guy.
I didn't know him well, but I also didn't think of him in that way.
I did think he was scary, but not in an inappropriate way. Similar to how you think a bounty hunter is scary. They're just intense and seem like they can kill you very easily.

The car pulled into a parking garage.
It was empty.
I assumed no one uses it anymore since it was obviously old.

The driver kept going up different levels and I wondered what was the point since there were so many empty parking spots.

I looked at Mr. De Luca who still looked at his phone. I noticed the tattoos on his right hand too.
He had another wing, diagonal, but in a different direction. I imagined that when his hands are together, it looked like an open pair of wings.
He had a pistol on the back of his thumb that went a little bit down his palm.

I felt the car stop and looked up.
The driver finally found a parking spot.
It was next to the only other vehicle here.

Three more men stood behind that car and although it was dark out now, one out of the three wore sunglasses. Three out of the three wore suits. One out of the three, the one with the sunglasses, had on a grey suit. The other two out of the three wore a black suit.

Mr. De Luca got out.

I didn't know if I was supposed to get out as well.

So I just sat there.

"Excuse me." I said to the driver.
He turned his head to the side to hear me better. I noticed a scar connecting his ear to the side of his face. I wondered what happened there.
"Why are we here?" I asked.
"Ain't my job to ask questions. I just drive."
"Oh."

That only sparked another question.

"No offense, but you drive very fast. We honestly should've been pulled over like three times."
"We not gettin' pulled over cause the cops ain't dumb."
I wondered what that meant.