Backstreet Boy

|Chapter 44: Set Up|

Jason

The week had passed by quite slowly, in all candour.

Alex had been questioning my late-coming home every night whenever I had been out. All I had ever replied with was, "Met some girls," casually to see whether he'd get the message.

Instead, he lectured me back. "You're messing everything up, and we both know it. If you really are going to different girls, stop. We both know you want Isabella back and if you were put in a situation, you wouldn't hesitate to save her in a heartbeat."

"You don't know what you're on about, Alex," I snapped, the lividness intermingling with sadness from missing Isabella and having him bring her up. I just wanted to forget her, even if I wasn't actually meeting other girls, and instead doing perilous drug deals.

Jackson had been giving me notes every night before the dealings at his hideout, and then he'd banish me and wouldn't let me finish until the competition of the deal. After receiving the money, I'd go straight back to Jackson and he'd give me a portion of the money. Then I could return home and wait for the next dealing.

Tonight was my last one.

I was working in the garage on a new car that had just come in when Alex said he was going out to buy some dinner for both of us. We weren't closing up until seven today because we really had to finish this Subaru I was working on. Assistance would have been appreciated greatly, but he seemed more than content to fetch some food. I wondered if he was sneaking off to girls.

After eating and locking up the garage, I told Alex I'd be home after. He didn't bother giving me a lecture, despite his proclivity for them, and instead shook his head, scoffed quietly and got in his car. A moment later, he was racing off down the street back home before I could even fall into my seat.

Jackson gave me a slip of paper with the next address on it. Admittedly, I didn't know where this one was so he also gave directions, but whether they'd be helpful or not, I had no idea. Even so, I followed them with ease to begin with until my nerves were set on edge by my surroundings.

This was the black alley of The District. I tried to avoid this place as much as possible, even if we had to pick up a car from here or take it back – which was a rarity for our service, anyway. It was a long street with houses on either side. But they were full of addicts or people ready to shoot some innocent bystander just ambling along the sidewalk.

Driving awfully carefully down the street, still on edge whether someone could just run out in front of me, I took note of each house number too. I was looking for thirteen – which could be seen as quite an unlucky number. Finally detecting the thirteenth house, I pulled up outside of it.

Locking my car, checking to see whether it was locked, and checking again, I finally walked up to the door. Knocking on it, the drugs in my hands seemed very heavy all of a sudden. They were sealed in a lot of wrapping so it could just be an innocent package I was delivering... very late at night.

"Hello," I said, opening up the letter box and shouting, after having no reply after a few minutes of awkwardly standing there. "I have it."

Letting go of the letterbox, I stepped back, ready to call it a night when someone shouted from inside, "Come in, the door's open." The voice definitely belonged to a male considering the low, gruff voice. But whose it precisely was, I had no idea. I didn't know any of the tattoo-obsessed, pony-tail-ridden guys I had been meeting to exchange the drugs for money.

"Hello," I said, opening the door and stepping into the house. It was dark as no lights were on. "Where are you?" I closed the door.

"In the lounge getting the money."

Sensing it was my duty to stroll into the lounge, I walked hesitantly, keeping my eyes peeled for any flicker of movement, and my ears open if there were any footsteps. Something about this setting didn't seem so right compared to all of the rest. All I did was knock on the door, trade the drugs for the money, and drive off to Jackson. Never once did I have to step into the house... in the dark when it's dark outside with the moon high in the sky.

"Jackson wants two hundred dollars," I said.

There was a low mumble in response as I made it to the threshold of the lounge. Despite the darkness, the curtains were open and the moon was illuminating the room. This "lounge" was virtually devoid of furniture. In fact, I'd just deem this as a room; it looked so dissimilar to a lounge.

"What's going on?" I asked, suddenly realising I hadn't even been hearing any bank notes fluttering.

"We heard you like your food on the rich side," said the guy.

Now being closer to him, I could perceive his voice at the end of the room. The opposite end to where I was stood.

The pun was good, but as soon as he said "rich side" I knew he meant girls, and not food. And more specifically, he meant Isabella. My hand holding the drugs lowered to my side before I chucked it on the floor in the middle of the room, leaving it to be neglected there.

"You didn't want drugs, did you?" I retorted, fists clenching as fury swept through me.

Despite the moon illuminating the room, I still couldn't make out any of the guy's facial features. I could, however, see a bald head reflecting the moonlight back. I could make out he had his arms crossed, and from the looks of it, he was categorically alone.

"What am I really here for?" I demanded. "Otherwise I'll just leave."

"Leave if you want," replied the guy nonchalantly, "but Jackson won't be very happy because his task won't have been fulfilled."

"What do you-"

Before I could get any more words out to complete my question and fulfill my own bafflement, two guys out of nowhere abruptly pounced on me and flattened me to the floor. I accidentally rolled over the drugs and the packaging squashed. It smelt like mere chalk in the bag, not cocaine.

I was too overwhelmed with shock to actually retaliate at first so instead, I laid on the floor immobile and paralysed with fear. Then one of the guys pulled me up and I realised something. After all these drug dealings this week, then this... he had to make it believable, didn't he? It was quite lucid now. But then a punch was thrown to my jaw, knocking me backwards.

Jackson set me up.

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Author's Note:

JASON IS IN DANGER!!! My poor Jason :(((( Did you guys expect Jackson to double-cross him like that? And who do you think will save him or will he save himself?? Let me know in the comments please!!

Thank you :) x