“I could lose my head for this.”
“I swear, man. What is it? Do you know what was in it?” Because I sure as shit don’t, and the probability of locating something when I don’t even know what it is seems impossible.
“I overheard some talk. I don’t think I was supposed to, but it didn’t stop me from listening anyway. Especially when I heard your name brought up.”
“Jesus Christ, Josey, tell me already.” The anticipation is going to give me a fucking heart attack.
He lowers his voice even more but maintains eye contact with me. “Sounds like it was an inside job.”
Pieces of the puzzle start to slide into place, making more and more sense of what happened.
I was robbed. But the only thing that was taken was the package. Not my overpriced iPhone, not my wallet, or the hundreds of dollars I had on me. Not the rings on my hand or the chain around my neck. My keys were tossed to the side, and I got my ass kicked. If it was a true robbery, they would’ve have taken all my stuff, right? Or at leastsomeof it…
No, they left it all behind. They knew where I was. They knew which path I’d be taking because Franklin gave me minimal time to get it there, which eliminated the precautions that I normally take.
He forced my hand, and I played right into his stupid fucking game. He knew exactly what would happen and planned it out to a T.
And that’s why he acted composed and cool and gave me an opportunity to redeem myself. It was a losing battle, and I never stood a chance given the cards were stacked against me all along.
Franklin isn’t dumb, and setting me up for failure like this is his way of making sure his hands are clean of me. He ends up looking like he gave me a chance, and I appear to be the failure everyone assumes I will be. It's a win-win in his book.
Only Franklin didn’t consider one thing: Josey’s loyalty and where it lies.
Josey might be a ruthless pawn in Franklin’s twisted story, but he has a heart, and his eyes are open enough to see that I do, too.
Franklin may have gotten a lot of things right about me, but I’m going to do everything I can to prove him wrong going forward. He thinks I’ll fold, that I’ll cower and submit when I can’t find the package. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
I’ll stop at nothing until I pry it from whoever beat it out of me.
“You good, kid?” Josey snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Your veins are starting to bulge right there.” He pokes the side of my head.
“Yeah.” I blink back to reality. “Tell me everything else.”
Josey opens his mouth but stops, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his phone. The screen lights up and he exhales. "I've got to run."
Shit. No. This might be our only chance to talk about what happened. Josey is my first and only solid lead, I can’t lose it without gettingsomethingelse.
Josey unfolds a few bills from his money clip and sets them on the counter.
Anxiety bubbles up through me at the many questions that cross my mind.
“Do you have any idea who it was?” I ask him.
“No, but it was someone young. New recruits. I heard they were bragging about the beating they gave you. Cocky little shits.” Josey glances around. “I don’t need to remind you that this stays between us, right? If he knew I was helping you in any way—”
I hold up my hands. “I swear it, Josey. I won’t say a word.”
"Good." He turns to leave. "I don't want to see something bad happen to you, kid." Josey seems genuinely concerned about my well-being.
“Ay,” I call out. “Thank you. Seriously.”
Josey nods. “Don’t make me regret it.”
I sit for a while, my head in my hands, trying like hell to solve the puzzle that is my life.
The bartender keeps my glass filled, and for that I’m grateful.
I get decent service pretty much everywhere I frequent because I tip well. This place is no different. It’s not that I flaunt my money, but growing up and not having much of it, I tend to give back when I can.