When Kylo Johnson - an aspiring dancer and college students finally gets the opportunity of a lifetime to attend his dream school in the bustling city of New York City. After a night of unfortunate events he finds himself in the hands of the city's...
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"WHERE IS IT!"
The meeting space is in absolute disarray. Tables flipped, chairs broken and files spattered across the floor as everyone searched and rummaged through every suitcase, backpack, nook, and cranny of this place. How could I be so careless? I'm usually really careful about these things and the one time I fuck up it's something this important. Fuck.
"Where's the last place you had it?" Maurice asked from across the table and if he wasn't damn near right feet away from me I would've lunged over the dark marble table and wrapped my hands around his throat, but I'm pretty sure that's why he said it because he knows I can't reach him from here. I hate when people ask me dumb questions like that.
"If I knew the answer to that Maurice do you seriously think I would be sitting here right now?" I exhaled a heavy sigh, fingers rubbing against my aching temples.
We've been searching the hideout for nearly an hour now and the hard drive is still missing. I had it this morning, I remember it so vividly. I put it in my coat pocket on my way to the hideout this morning. I've searched every way, every vehicle, and everyone's pocket, and the shit is nowhere to be found. I felt a groan erupt from my lips, my fist balling and smashing against the table causing most of the men in the room to pause in their steps for a moment, all except Maurice who took a sip from his glass full of Whisky.
"Relax Stone, you'll find it. You got guys out searching the entire perimeter of New York it's bound to come up soon." He said to me, a small smile on his beige-skinned face and if he wasn't so far away from me I'd smack it off of him.
I've known Maurice since I was thirteen. We went to the same private school together, played football together, and our fathers worked together. His father was my father's secondhand man. Out of everyone that works for me I've known him the longest. I remember how much he would cry when our fathers would take us to the gun range and make us shoot. He'd complain and say he didn't like the way the gun felt in his hands, say he didn't want to hurt anybody and his father would make an example out of him for the rest of the newer recruits as some sort of lesson because if a man can beat his son in front of you just imagine what he'll do to you.
I don't see Maurice crying anymore so I guess his father's teachings were effective. He's more tech-savvy than most, despite how he may come off at times, his IQ exceeded most of the men in The Rose including myself. He's usually on the computer hacking firewalls and breaking code, but don't be fooled because he's very skilled with a firearm and his fighting skills aren't too bad either.
"Hey," he calls out to me from across the table. I look over at him with a raised brow waiting for him to continue. "have you been sleeping?" he asked.
"I don't have time for sleep Maurice," I tell him, hands falling onto the table out of frustration.
He takes another sip from his glass. "Do you know that not sleeping can kill you," his dark eyes furrowed at me before letting out a small sigh. "What about the medication I got from you?"
