That building is over ten blocks away. Easily a fifteen-minute walk. And that’s if I don’t draw any attention to myself or have anything hold me up on the way. Usually I stop at my house to regroup and come up with a plan, but this time, I’m going to have to go straight from here to there. I don’t enjoy being so unprepared, but in times like this, I have no choice but to go along with what Franklin demands of me.
I shove the bulky package into the waistband of my jeans, revealing part of my torso in the process.
“That looks uncomfortable.” Franklin points toward my bruised side.
“It’s fine,” I lie. In reality, each breath sends a spike of pain through me, but I don’t let him know that. Weakness only fuels him more.
“Good.” Franklin lowers his drink to the table. “The clock is ticking.”
The smoke-filled air is replaced by a putrid odor upon entering the alley. They’re both equally gross, but being out of Franklin’s line of sight is something I’d favor any day.
Josey stays leaning against the brick building. “You’re still in one piece. I take it things went well.”
“Maybe.” I run possible route options through my head, each of them taking me into areas busier than I’d prefer to be in with a potentially illegal package. I don’t know whether there are drugs or weapons or fucking gummy bears in there, but whatever it is, I can’t get caught with it.
Not if I want my plan to work. If I get caught, all of this will have been for nothing.
I decide on a route, taking off without another wasted second. I glance at the time. I’m going to need a fucking miracle to pull this off.
I dip down the alley and pop into another, blending in with the darkness and praying like hell I don’t run into any trouble.
This is clearly a test. An impossible challenge to show Franklin whether or not I’m going to be an asset or a liability—if I’m worth keeping around. He’s constantly setting me up for failure in hopes I back out or decide I don’t want to be a part of his twisted game anymore.
But instead of giving him what he wants, I run his stupid errands and take the beatings that come my way, surprising him each time with my perseverance.
I never imagined my life becoming what it is, but sometimes you don’t have a choice. And in this situation, I couldn’t continue to stand back and watch what was happening with a clear conscience. I had to do something.
A few minutes pass and I make decent time on getting closer to my destination. I avoid highly trafficked areas and dodge a few of the security cameras I’m aware of. I’m not a perfect criminal, but I do my best with what I can.
And so far, I haven’t been caught.
I pause under a fire escape and study the street ahead. If I cross here and take the alley, I should be smooth sailing the rest of the way.
I step out into the light and blend in with a group of people waiting for the pedestrian sign to signal them. Most of the group cuts left, heading toward the bustling restaurant side of the street, and the rest go right, to the various apartment and condo buildings.
I duck into the darkness ahead and glance over my shoulder to verify no one saw me enter. When I turn, a fist meets my face, knocking me off my feet and onto the soggy ground.
I scramble to my knees, only to be kicked in the ribs and spun around and onto my back. I wince from the new impact to a not-so-old injury. I desperately blink to clear my vision and see my attacker.
Two blurred figures stand above me, their heads covered in ski masks. They're not too much bigger than me, but together, I don't stand a chance.
If I could only get to my feet, maybe I could outrun them. My little bit of a size difference might mean that I’m faster than them. I know these streets like the back of my hand, which might give me the advantage I need.
Another kick to my side knocks the wind out of me. I crawl away, gripping onto a dumpster to help steady me.
Neither says a word, they only continue to come after me.
One of them slams a foot into my back, throwing me headfirst into the metal thing. Warm liquid flows down from my brow and stars appear in my vision.
The biggest of the two grips my shoulder and spins me around, slamming another punch across my face.
I put my arms up to block the incoming hits but it’s no use. They both know what they’re doing, and I’m no match.
The other person fumbles inside my pockets and pulls out the contents.
My wallet, my phone, my keys.
I’m being robbed.