Our fallen souls [EN] (High Enough) : VOLUME 1

30 - Blake

Exhausted, I leave my last class.

Unfortunately, the day is far from over, as I still have to meet John.

The drive to the bar unfolds under my fingers tapping the steering wheel, a way of relaxing as much as possible. I try to think of it as a business meeting, since he must have heard about it from Shawn. I'm well aware that Shawn and Jared continue to frequent this bar despite their work for me. I've never forbidden it, but it's essential that it doesn't become a daily habit, as this could inevitably damage our profits.

Arriving in front of the bar, I park in the familiar spot I used to occupy. As usual, the eyes of the regulars fall on me as soon as I enter. Nothing new there. The bar has not changed: the same pole-dancing bars, the same dancers, and the same regulars. I walk quietly towards the bar.

"I've come to see John," I tell the waitress, who looks up and nods in approval.

A few minutes later, John appears accompanied by two of his men.

"Blake. What a pleasure to see you here again! Follow me," he invites me warmly.

He hasn't changed a bit, either. Still his beard, still his shaved head. He leads me into a room where the famous round table is enthroned. This table is sacred. It's around it that the most crucial decisions are made. It's in a rather small, cold room, with a simple chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

I sit down on one of the chairs, resting my arms on the table. John speaks first, breaking the tense silence:

"So, Blake, how's your business?"

"Fine, thanks."

"What a disappointment for us to see that you'd run off when we got back from a very big delivery."

"I'm sure it was. I didn't make you cry, did I?"

A nervous laugh escapes John. "You were our greatest asset, Blake. Strong in business, management, negotiation. You've got to take over this business."

"I don't know about that."

But he insists, going on about the money I could make from it. I listen attentively, inhaling deeply on my cigarette to calm my nerves.

John's piercing gaze settles on me, adding a touch of menace to his expression. Despite his imposing tattoos, I know that behind this facade he's rather gentle, except when he's angry.

"Why don't you want this "business"?" I ask, curious.

John's enigmatic smile appears again, but it's far from soothing. I realize that, although he's the strongest physically among us, he thinks I'm better at business, and he lets me know it.

Nonsense.

John is big, muscular, and authoritative when necessary. Me, I'm always authoritarian, tactless, and that creates tension and riots within the group.

"There will be rebellions if I take over, and you know it. I'm not the type to keep my mouth shut, and the others hate it."

"All you have to do is get them out of the way. They'll go to the board."

"Council?"

"After you left, we set up a council for the members of the group. Judgment takes place around this table," John informs me, pointing to the round table we're sitting at.

I frown. "Judgment?"

A grim smile stretches across John's face.

"If a member of the group breaks the rules or talks too much, he's brought here. But, from now on, we don't just give him a beating."