“I havetwoquestions, actually. First, how many runs will I have to do in a week? Just curious.”
“No more than four,” he answered immediately. “Boss doesn’t like drivers burning themselves out. A driver who’s exhausted starts missing details—wrong turn, wrong person, wrong reaction. And mistakes in this line of work don’t just cost money, they cost freedom… sometimes lives. So we keep it controlled. Four runs max in a weekunlessBoss says otherwise. Enough money to make it worth it, but not enough pressure to make you sloppy.”
That actually made sense.
“Oh, and I’m glad you brought that up,” he added, reaching for a sheet of paper. “Here’s your schedule for this week.”
He handed me the schedule.
I picked it up.
Saturday – 7:30 PM
Sunday – 9:15 PM
Tuesday – 10:45 PM
Thursday – 8:00 PM
All night runs.
My eyes scanned the locations scribbled next to each time; anxiety mingled with anticipation. Each drop point was within driving distance of Charlotte, just different neighborhoods and different drop-off spots.
“So as you see, your routes are close for now. Thirty minutes out, maybe forty depending on traffic. Simple drops… in and out. You’ll get a new schedule every Friday," he explained, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the surface.
My grip on the paper tightened slightly, the reality of my new responsibilities sinking in.
“You familiar with those areas?”
I looked up. “Yeah. This shouldn’t be a problem,” I replied, trying to sound confident.
“Good.”
Then, the question that had been gnawing at me since the moment I decided to step into that world finally rose to the surface.
“Second question,” I said, locking eyes with him. “When and how will I get paid?”
He grinned, his demeanor shifting slightly. “You really thinking about that money now, huh?”
I didn’t even bother lying. “Yeah.”
“Good… that’s motivation. To answer your question, you’ll get paid in cash…only.”
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
“No direct deposits, no records, no apps, no paper trails. Banks ask questions. Questions create attention. And attention creates problems,” he broke down.
That made sense… unfortunately.
“I’ll be handling your payments for the first two weeks,” he continued. “You finish a run, you come back here, and if everything checks out, you get paid on the spot.”
“And after that?”
“We have someone who handles payouts… a trustee. Andtrust me, he’s not going to try and fuck you over. If he does that, then he’ll be fucking us over.” His smile faded slightly. “And people who mess with our money tend to disappear.”
Message received… loud and clear.
Over the next few minutes, we delved into the intricacies of the job. Most of it sounded simple enough on the surface, but Marcos’s demeanor made it abundantly clear that mistakes weren't an option.