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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KYLO IS STRANGE.
I already knew that when the boy was a little off when he admitted to plugging an unknown hard drive into his laptop trying to guess the password, but I'm starting to just now realize how weird this guy is as I watch him through the security cameras of my house through my phone. He's currently in the backyard chasing around the dogs, a struggling game between them as he can't seem to keep up with any of them. He's running around with their lashes in his hand shouting at them to come back but the girls aren't listening at all. It was a little entertaining, to say the least.
"I managed to get in," the sound of Maurice's voice from across the table catches my attention and I look up from my phone at him. He flips around his laptop and on the screen is a bunch of numbers and code that make me squint. "I'm getting the contact information for one of the men out of Vietnam right now. It seems they have some new type of psychedelic drug called Altox they've been working on. It sells pretty damn nice too if we get some shipped over here we can sell it tenfold."
I nodded at his words, my eyes still focused on the security footage on my phone. From the few seconds I took my eyes off of him, Kylo had someone managed to get the dogs to chase him now, the girls running behind as he ran for his life screaming.
"Must be a cold day in hell if Benavanté Bellerose is smiling." Maurice's voice rings again, and I don't even realize the corners of my mouth are pulled up until he calls me out on it. I fix my face, clear my throat, and place my phone down on the table.
Maurice sends me another look from across the table, his thick brows rising at me slightly. I mirror with a look of my own. "What?" I barked.
"Nothing," he quickly replied, hands raising in defense as he let out a half-hearted chuckle. "nothing at all." He returns his attention to the laptop in front of him, typing away on the keyboard.
I opened my mouth again to call him out on his bullshit but the doors of the warehouse slamming open caused the words to hitch in my throat. In comes about four of my men, one draped around the others as he carried him, blood staining his clothes. "Sir . . ." one of them called out, voice horsed and strained. I immediately stand to my feet making my way over to the wounded men. Maurice is behind me, the same puzzled look on both of our faces.
"What the hell happened?" Maurice is quick to ask, the both of us extending a helping hand to the men as he hurriedly carried the blood-covered worker to the table.
"We were collecting the incoming cargo with the weapons on the dock when this group of guys just pulled up and started shooting at us." One of the men explained, his breathing unstable and troubled.
"We tried to take 'em out as best as we could but they outnumbered us and they ended up hitting Marcus good too," another explained as we lifted a wounded Marcus on the table. "we barely managed to get away and they got the weapons too."
