Ch. 5 (RWM)

: Adrenaline junkie

“Come on, Malice! Give me at least five more."
“Dude, I’ve already done close to three hundred push-ups today.” I panted.
Lending no sympathy, Drift refused to cut me any slack--pressing his sneaker into my back. “If your chest touches my floor, I will make you do planks until you pass out!”
I groaned loudly, trying to keep from falling onto my face completely. My arms felt flimsy as I leaned down with a struggle. Drift obnoxiously counted into my ear pissing me off, and whatever reverse psychology he was trying to conquer, actually worked. I pushed five more times out of anger and hopped up as if all of my weakness evaporated.
“Good job. Now come back upstairs to calm your heart rate.”
The sudden urge to regurgitate had me down on my hands and knees. Feeling faint, I started throwing up water all over the floor.
“Damn it, man, you all right?” I felt Drift’s quickly aid me, bringing me to my feet. "You go on ahead, I'll clean it up." He insisted.
I crept up the steps feeling my muscles tense up along the way. Once the couch came into view, I hurried right over and collapsed. Drift soon came around the corner with a sarcastic smug, tossing me a water bottle. Taking a seat beside me, he proceeds to calmly sip at his water before opening a small cigar box. My brows wrinkled in wonder when a bag of cocaine met my eyes.
“Wow.” Was all I could muster at the time.
“I’ve been doing this for quite a while, Malice.” He laughs. "I don't fuck around with steroids, but a little line here and there keeps me going." For a moment, I thought he was insane. "Here, I will cut you a line if you'd like?”
“I had some that night at Javan’s--well, I thought that's what it was and it fucked me up."
“Oh? No, coke is a different kind of high. Putting it mildly, you feel hyped up for a short period until you do more. It’s your choice to go through with it or not.”
I liked to believe I was open-minded, but I took a long moment to decide while watching Drift do a line. Sky enters the room just as I tilt my head back, squeezing my eyes shut from the burning.
“Damn, babe." She plops down beside me. "Starting early?”
I opened one eye, looking over at her with a smile but she was staring at Drift rather intently.
“I was just trying to wake up your weak sauce of a man over here.” He seemed defensive.
“He’s anything but weak.” Sky rubbed up and down my bicep, kissing my shoulder like she always had.
“Tonight is going to be your first drop.” Drift went on.

Pulling up a pair of jeans, I fastened my belt while glancing at myself in the standup mirror. Sky appeared behind me with a devilish grin, reaching under my arms, running freshly polished nails down my pecs. I overlapped her hands with mine, pressing them firmly against my flexion. Sky tittered a bit, planting one, two, three little kisses on my barren back before helping me roll down my shirt. Feeling the fibers clutch snuggly to my body sparked a flame of masculinity as my eyes flickered towards Sky’s salacious expression.
“You are so handsome.” She gushed--pink at the cheeks.
A confident paragon filled my sight as I slowly turned, seeing a black summer dress complimenting every curve.
“No," I felt my palms begin to itch. "you’re the one who stands absolutely breathtaking.”
Dominantly approaching her, I drew her tightly into me, tickling coarse whiskers against her pulsing neck.
“Come on, princess. We’ve got work to do.”
Sky gently brushed the dampened strands over to view my eyes clearly, verbalizing that she loved me without having to say so.

We jumped into our car, following Driften to a high-class winery off the coastline of the Door Peninsula. We were meeting a client that flew in from Michigan on a business trip. Drift warned that this guy was a true Venezuelan mobster in his earlier years; who would send a .22 caliber through your head if his scale claimed erroneous weight. What an objective for our very first run. Jermani fancied face to face arrangements, stifling his seller's personal space to subdue legitimacy. Drift told us a story about some poor guy Jermani had once bought from(a trusted resort), but this man stiffed him on a false make of cocaine, so as detrimental measures go, he was captured, beaten and hanged from a dogwood tree that centered this man's backyard. Completely destroying the core of his body with a shotgun, Jermani left him there for days, blowing in the breeze. It wasn't a tale of encouragement, it was a simple warning as Drift put it.
“I’m going to wait outside. Keep that earpiece in so you can hear me. I may have to assist you in proper coaxing techniques so he remains unthreatened.”
The jerk of nervousness sent a shiver up my spine as I tucked in the wireless ear monitor.
“Babe, we’ve got this." Sky slid up her dress, revealing a sheathed dagger. "I’m right there with you.”
I stroked my chin letting my tiny hairs tickle the pads of my fingers and with a deep breath, I stepped out of the car, securing my back holster. Clutching Sky's hand, we made our way to the entrance of the winery. A black Cadillac with illegal window tint was parked alongside the building. As we neared, a man clothed in a full suit and small framed sunglasses stepped out to greet us. His dark wavy hair and olive skin accented that of his attire. Without breaking words, Jermani gestured towards the door of the winery, following close behind.
Unpretentiously grabbing a seat at a wooden high-top table nearest a window, Sky and I patiently waited--our nerves radiating from a mile away. Jermani casually placed his hand on the small of my back, rubbing against my gun holster. Leaning so closely into my ear, I could smell his cologne. “Let’s not make this difficult…”
With a hard swallow, I watched him take his seat directly across from me. Smoothly running my hand up Sky’s dress, I gave her dagger a suggestive squeeze.
“I can put my own assumption to rest that the two of you already know exactly who I am. I don’t give a fuck about what kind of act you and your lovely partner are trying to pose. All I care about is my purchase. Do we understand one another?”
“Why yes.” I glared.
Jermani raised a neatly arched brow with an unwavering gaze, searching my eyes for emotion.
“Glad we are on the same page. I ordered two kilos of white and a pound of green. I know who your producer is, and if that little fuck comes up short...” He paused, pressing an unfriendly barrel against my knee.
I could see the heave of Sky’s chest in my peripheral--sweat forming at my temples.
“Sir, I can assure you that the amount you ordered is valid.”
“So in return, if you fail, I take both of your lives. If you were not forewarned, I like to kill slowly to my satisfaction.”
“Please, I will suffice any future repercussions if I fail to obtain my integrity.”
His gaze softened to my loyalty, flickering cold, beady eyes towards Sky. “You’d give your own life to save her? Hmm…how courageous of you?”
I lowered my eyes, coming to the realization of what kind of lifestyle I just took on. This shit wasn’t a walk in the park on the fifth of June. It was a fucking warzone damned by a constant hailstorm. If you went in unprotected, you were destined for your demise and the sufferance that led the way. Like a famished hawk, I held my stomach in, watching his every movement from beckoning the server for a bottle of wine to caressing the smooth metal of his steak knife lying anxiously atop its napkin.
“I would do whatever was necessary.” My nostrils twitched with an undertoned snarl.
“Any specific wine the both of you prefer?” Jermani cracked his first smile, backing me into a corner.
I didn’t want to tell this man that Sky and I were underage, so I kept a silent poker face. "The choice is yours."
“It’ll just be a bottle of my usual, then.” He told the server.

I heard Drift's staticky voice carry a pleasing remark that lightly vibrated my eardrum. Keeping my conversation brief and my responses short, we reciprocated smiles and laughed respectably while sipping on the bitterness of ‘Domaine de la Romanee’. Jermani only finishes one glass before signing the check and escorting us out to his Cadillac. The smallest man I'd ever seen, maybe straddling his mid-fifties, stepped out of the driver’s side, ready to usher us into the back. I turned my head in Drift’s direction ever so slightly to gain the green light. A hollow 'go head' entered my ear and I climbed on in after Sky. The cold leather raised goosebumps as I sat ramrod straight. Jermani pulled out a stack of money that was crisp and banded together to perfection. “Here is your payment. I will have my driver pull up alongside your vehicle. You will slowly get out, and casually hand me my order before I lay cash into your itchy palm. Understood?”
“Yes.” My voice rattled.

The Cadillac parked beside my Chevelle, idling. I climbed out, almost forgetting how to walk as my eyes met Driften through his windshield. Popping my trunk to pull out a black briefcase, Jermani advances in a questionnaire about my car. "I've always had an eye for old muscle cars," He smiles warmly. "Sadly, I travel too much to ever own one." Hearing the sound of a door opening, Jermani releases Sky--still smiling with a pistol gripped in his hand. “Bring it here.”
I drew in an acute breath, sliding the sleek briefcase through his window. Patiently waiting in an unnerving silence, Jermani said something to his driver in Spanish. Falling under his satisfaction after scrutiny, he then handed me the stack of cash, preparing to drive away. “It’s been a pleasure.”

I puffed out with relief, falling against Sky’s side of the car, trying to collect myself. The bump of her door startled me while I watched Drift exit his car to greet me. Holding out his payment, I was stuck in place still trying to slow my heart rate.
“What's the matter, boss?" He chuckled. "Did Jermani scare you?"
“A little."
“How else did you think this worked, Mali? Selling illegal substances is dangerous, especially when you’re dealing with wealthy customers. I promised you both protection and free range of survival necessities. Everything you gain will indeed come with a price. You need to fully understand what it is you’re getting you and your companion into.”
“Sky, we don’t have to continue if you aren’t comfortable.” I lowered my voice.
She placed her hand on top of mine, giving it a tight squeeze. “I don’t care where we are and what it is we may be doing. As long as I’m with you, that’s all the reassurance I need.”
I felt my heart smile at her warm words, embracing each syllable as they soothed my conscience.
“Well, if we are all now on the same page. Malice, you’re going to need something with speed for the majority of your travels.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Drift just gave an uncharacterized grin, walking back to his car. "You'll see."

Once we arrived back at his house, he motioned for us to follow him down to his garage. In front of his neglected Diablo, another door lied ahead. Pulling it open, Drift peeled back the cover to a black and silver street bike. I felt my yearning smile concave flattery dimples.
“This here is my Honda CBR600. She’s built for speed."
I felt drool creeping at the corners of my mouth as he walked it out for me to inspect. Sky’s eyes were just as wide as mine when he placed it in front of us.
“Have you ever driven one?”
“Have I? Ha, just a Harley that I once owned.”
“Well, brother, you’re about to encounter a whole new type of motorcycle. You will be getting your own so I can take you out on a track to show you what speed really feels like.”
I stood in momentarily retrospect, thinking about the roads back in Jersey. How I missed the pier and riding along the coast, owning the asphalt my tires engaged rotary upon. “Where are we going to get this two-wheeled beauty?”
“There’s a shop in downtown Madison we’ll go to. I’m good friends with the owner.”
Of course, he is. This bastard had so many connections it was beyond belief.

Pulling up to a Yamaha shop, I was in awe while scanning over the different recreational vehicles that sat in the windows. The smell of new rubber and the giddy smile plastered on Sky's face got me excited. I went down the aisle of street bikes, checking them from headlights to tailpipes, stopping at a Yamaha 750R; shimmered in black and red.
“Sky, hop on the back for a sec.”
“I’ve never ridden anything other than my father’s Harley, but I’m quite sure this thing is much faster!” She seemed intimidated. Bringing her arms around my abdomen, I felt her rest her head against my back. "Mmm, baby, I could get used to this."
While I was getting a feel of its sitting position, a short, stubby Asian guy approached us. While Drift was bent down looking at the tires, he soon jumped up to greet a familiar acquaintance. “Soku! How are you?” Drift pulled the man into his embrace.
“I’m great. Your friend looking to buy?”
“Yes, how much is the one he’s straddling?”
The shock of $12,000 had my jaw nearly depart from my face.
“I don’t have even half of that!” I told Sky.
“Your half from this last job will pay for it and I will make up the difference.”
“Holy shit, I can’t let you do that!”
“You can and you will. It’s for business purposes. Therefore, you need it!”
“Well, this is exciting!” I felt Sky dig her chin into my shoulder blade.

I admit I admired Drift’s pragmatic perspective on things, seeing as how he is very eccentric in the field I’ve been recently introduced to. I wasn’t sure if there was a catch to any of his generosity, but I’ve always been told ‘what begins in chaos, surely ends just the same.’