Fighting to be Free (Completed)

Fighting to be free - Chapter 2

 

Copyright © 2011 Kirsty Moseley

*****The slideshow on the side is the cars from the "list" for boosting!******

Chapter 2

I jumped in the first cab I saw and gave the driver the address for the apartment that the parole officer had set up for me. The cab driver looked at me strangely, "You sure you want to go here?" he asked, looking at me skeptically.

Wow, that wasn't a good sign at all.

"Yeah thanks," I confirmed, looking out of the window not wanting to talk to him. I couldn't stop thinking about the job, five cars in one night was a lot, it would be hard, hopefully Brett will have scoped out the owners routines and stuff for me so they'll be exactly where they should be.

As the cab drove, the streets outside the window got worse and worse, trash and graffiti everywhere, smashed bottles on the sidewalk, windows and doors boarded up on the houses. He pulled to a stop outside this awful looking building, there were people all milling around smoking joints and stuff in broad daylight.

"This is it," he announced, looking around cautiously.

I handed him the money and stepped out, smelling the sweet smell of burning weed as soon as the door opened. The cab sped away as soon as I shut the door leaving me standing there amongst the scummy looking people, who were all looking at me like they wanted to beat and rape the crap out of me. Wow, nice place.

I made my way up the path and a young girl probably in her early twenties stepped forward, putting her hand on my chest. She looked awful, her eyes were bloodshot, her hair was wild and she looked like she hadn't washed or changed her - almost non-existent - clothes in about a week.

"Hi handsome, you looking for someone?" she purred, trailing her finger down my chest.

"No thanks," I replied quickly, trying not to turn my nose up as I shrugged away from her hand and made my way inside.

The place was even worse from the inside, and looked like it was about to fall down with all the cracks in the walls and ceiling. I made my way to the little reception and laughed quietly to myself when I saw the guy sitting there behind the big thick bars and what looked like bullet proof glass behind that. He had a hand gun sitting on the side of his desk.

He sneered at me, "Yeah?" he asked rudely.

"Hey, I'm Jamie Cole. I was told I had a room here," I said trying to ignore the rude way he was looking at me, like I was a piece of crap or something he'd stepped in.

"Cole? Let me see....." He shifted slightly on his chair, rifling through some papers.

I turned slightly so I could see up the hallway, I didn't want anyone sneaking up on me from behind or anything. I'd gotten pretty good at staying out of trouble in the last four years, as long as you see trouble coming, you can either face it head on or walk the other way. That was what I had learnt, and I planned on sticking to it even now I was out.

"Yeah, he you are," he said ticking me off on some sort of list, he walked over to the little cabinet and grabbed a set of keys. He sat down at the desk and put a couple of forms into a little metal drawer, he shoved the drawer and it popped out my side of the bars. Wow, he's not taking any chances at all. I could barely stop myself from laughing at how this place was really setting a good impression already. I dragged the forms out, looking them over, they were just registration forms.

"Sign on the bottom and it's all yours," he said nodding at the form, I scribbled my name and passed it back to him using the drawer. "Ok so there aren't very many rules here, just try and stay out of trouble. If I were you, I would be careful not to go out in the dark too much, make sure you lock your door, even when you're in the room. Take anything valuable out with you, or lock it in one of the safes here inside the office," he said, nodding over his shoulder at a row of little safes built into the wall.