“Are we finished here?” I asked, my tone flat.
The guy scoffed, before he quickly masked it with a chuckle. “Damn. Straight to business. Aight. Bet.”
He lifted a hand and nodded to one of his guys.
A tall dude walked to the back of the car, popped the trunk, and pulled out the duffel Drico had loaded earlier. He unzipped it, peered inside, ran a quick inspection of the neatly-packed contents, and then closed it again with a firm tug.
“All good,” he called out. “Everything’s here.”
The “flirt”, leaning against the car with a relaxed posture, smirked at me again. “You’re good to go… although I hate to see you leave,” he admitted, cocking his head slightly, a teasing gleam in his eyes.
“Cool,” I said, putting the car in reverse, preparing to leave.
He frowned slightly, a furrow forming between his brows. “That’s all you got to say?”
I met his gaze directly, unblinking. “It’s all that needs saying, right?” Something in my tone seemed to strike a chord. His mouth twitched, as if he wanted to smile but was fighting it back.
“My name is Dino. I’ll see you around… maybe.” He winked.
I didn’t respond; I just drove off.
My thoughts shifted to texting Marcos to let him know it was done, but I decided it would be better to see him in person. I needed to tell him—face to face—that I had just transported drugs and learned about it from a random stranger rather than him.
When I pulled into the warehouse lot, it was quiet. There were no voices, no movement, only the low hum of the wind against the buildings. I cut the engine and sat still for a moment, listening intently. Trusting my instincts, I reached over, popped open the glove compartment, and wrapped my fingers around the gun case. I didn’t take the gun out,but I unzipped it enough to grab it fast if I needed to. Just the touch of it sent a twist ofunease through my stomach, yet I knew that being prepared was better than relying solely on prayers.
With a deep breath, I cracked the driver’s door open… and, at that exact moment, the passenger door swung open as well.
Reflex kicked in.
My hand dove for the gun, and I swung it toward the figure sliding into the seat beside me.
Marcos dropped into the passenger side, calm as hell, not even blinking at the barrel pointed at him.
“You really trying to get shot today?” I asked, not lowering the gun.
Marcos’s mouth curved slightly, not into a smile, but more a recognition of my readiness.
“Easy, Ajori. It’s just me,” he murmured, closing the door with a soft click. “If I wanted to scare you, I’d do more than open a damn door.”
Marcos cast a glance at the gun, then back at me, his expression unreadable.
“Good to see you’re quick on the draw, though. That was a test run. You checked the lot, armed yourself, and stayed alert.” He nodded in approval. “Good. You’re learning.”
I kept my eyes locked on him for a beat before lowering the gun and placing it back in the case, the tension easing slightly.
“You could’ve just texted me ‘good job,’ you know.”
He chuckled. “Where’s the fun in that?”
I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, feeling a simmering frustration. “I’ll have you know that I didn’t appreciate finding out from some random dude at the drop that I was transporting drugs.”
His jaw tensed.
“He straight-up called me a mule!” I exclaimed, my voice rising. “Dope, though, Marcos?! And you didn’t think that was important to mention before you sent me out there?”
“Would it have made a difference?” he shot back, his calm demeanor grating on my nerves. “Knowing what you were transporting… would that have stopped you from getting your money?That’sthe real question.”
My mouth dropped open, then snapped shut.