The Badboys' Good Lips

5

c h a p t e r 5

Somehow, the night got worse.

I'm not exactly sure when it got worse, only that it had certainly continued in a downward spiral.

Maybe it was because I had been in and out of consciousness three or four times after Ryder locked me in his car and left to go back to Dylan and Jacob. Maybe it was because when I had finally come-to for the last time, albeit without a throbbing head or aching thumb, the blood caked to my face made it painful to open my eyes for the first ten or so minutes.

Maybe it was because sometime when I was without consciousness, someone must have checked on me and left the car unlocked. This, of course, led to me getting out of the car with much struggle, and following the sound of multiple voices towards the back of the convenience store. Which, of course, caused me to walk in on something that I was a thousand percent certain I wasn't supposed to have seen.

A drug exchange.

My footsteps ceased the moment I rounded the corner of the building, my eyes taking in the scene of Dylan and Jacob standing opposite an average-built, older man, and his young lanky sidekick. Both the man and his side-kick had their backs to me, which seemed like a great opportunity for me to slowly back away and get into the car again. Until my eyes clocked the unmistakable exchange of a duffle bag between the parties. Two duffle bags.

This is great. This is fine. Nothing shady is going on here. I haven't seen a thing!

I almost believed myself, too. Until the man's side-kick put one of the duffle bags on the ground and began pulling out baggies of pills, white powder, and weed. Counting it. Out loud.

Dylan, who hadn't yet noticed me, let out a playful sigh. "Where's the trust? I thought we had a good foundation going for us."

The man, dark-skinned with a buzzed head and black attire, shook his head. "Can never be too sure these days."

"You make a good point." Dylan grinned as the man handed him the second duffle bag. Looking right at the man, he handed the bag to Jacob and tilted his head to the side and grinned, his words meant for Jacob. "Count, Jakey."

Jacob sent a sharp glare to Dylan at the nickname before he dropped to his knees as well, opening up the duffle and beginning to count, pulling out the contents in order to make sure he could see everything.

My eyes widened.

Stacks and stacks of money.

What... what in the world—

If I wasn't sure whether this was a drug trade or not, that certainly confirmed it for me. I had never seen so much money before in my entire life, and my mouth dried at what life could be like for someone who had that amount of cash flow.

I swallowed thickly, trying to reign in my thoughts. I needed to get back to Ryder's car before any of these men spotted me. If they were doing a drug deal, that had to make them dangerous people, right? Or at least people who would be extremely upset by being walked in on like this.

Just then Jacob's eyes met mine, his hands pausing in his counting of the money as his whispered words came to a halt.

And it didn't go unnoticed.

"Say," the man shifted his weight from either foot and in doing so, stealthily brushed his leg against the arm of his partner still kneeling on the ground. That seemed to be some kind of a signal, and his side-kick cleared his throat before slowing down the once fast pace of his counting. "Where's that West kid, tonight?"