Chapter 53
*****Vincent's POV*****
"Is it enough?" Daryl questions me, as I glance over the crates filled with machinery and guns.
"Think so, I'll need to phone and check with my Dad." I grumble, knowing that I hated whenever I would have to contact him for anything.
If people thought I was bad, then he was much fucking worse to put it lightly!
Placing the phone to my ear and eyeing the men around us who were delivering the shipment, their faces grim and distant - ready to fight us to the death if the exchange was to go wrong at any point - I pause for him to pick up. "Vincent? Make it quick, I'm in the middle of something!" My father's delightful tone fills my ear as I grit my teeth to avoid cussing him out down the line due to his attitude alone.
"There's twelve filled crates, is that the normal amount for a ninety thousand exchange?" I speak quickly, wanting to rid myself of him sooner.
He seems to think on my words, before mumbling a quick 'sounds about right, yes' as I turn to give my guys the nod before my father continues to speak:
"Next one's due in a month, I'll need you to take those crates to Illinois by the end of next week, I'll have somebody meet you there. They'll pay double what we just did to buy them from us." He orders, as I feel my blood begin to boil. "I have school, do you forget that? Get somebody else to take them!" I seethe, knowing he would often make me run around and do his dirty work for him whenever he felt like it.
"You also have a nice big house and a decent life thanks to my money so shut the fuck up and get on with it! I don't want anybody else on this one, it's an important swap with important people and you need to make a good impression for the family! Get some of the men to drive the trucks to Illinois and meet them there on a flight. I don't want to hear you cry about it Vincent, don't make me fucking fly out to you myself!" He warns, his tone dangerous but I don't flinch. I reckon these days I could give the old man a run for his money in a fight... but not when I was younger. He used to terrify me before, but not anymore....
"How's Mom?" I mutter, choosing to ignore his threats completely, having not heard from my Mother in a few months now.
She was probably still acting like a whore around my father's men to impress them... I used to hate when she did that.
"She's fine. We will visit again on your birthday." He retorts, evidently hating talking to me just as much as I did him.
Great, I'll see them on my birthday in a month - can't fucking wait.
"I'll phone you when I get to Illinois." I state bluntly, before removing the phone from my ear and hitting the red button to end the call - finally fed up with our father - son catch up for today. Fucking dick!
Watching my men hand over the money as the other punks count it for their own boss, I click on my phone to send Sofia a text.
'Are you both ok at the house? Want us to bring you back some dinner? We should be done here in an hour or so.'
I hit send, before pushing the phone into my pocket and approaching Daryl who looks concentrated watching the main guy count out the notes.
He was smart with this stuff, making sure nobody would try to swindle us... because that would rightly cause major problems if they did. We've had men before claim that we hadn't paid them enough, which nearly caused a fully blown shoot out, until Daryl would correct them and tell them to count it again - finding it to be right.
"Always a pleasure to do a deal with the younger Walker - but can't say much when it's your Father meeting us." One of the older guys grumble as the others around him laugh - finishing up with the count.
I recognised the guy as being high up with the people we would do gun shipments with, but I didn't know his real name. I only knew him as 'Keeper' whatever the fuck that nickname meant. "Happy?" I mutter, not having much time for small talk whenever we did this.
With a final sigh, Keeper nods and motions with his hand for his men to help pack everything into our trucks for us.
"The papers? Where are they?" I remember, as he holds up a finger and rushes towards his car.
The papers were important in the event that any of the trucks would be pulled over by the cops during transition. They were forged, obviously, but they had everything the cops needed to pass us through. Watching Keeper lug himself back towards me, already out of breath from the brief exercise he had embarked upon when running to the car and back, I shake my head at the state of him. The beer belly he had grown over the past couple of years did him no favours...
"That's you all set kid." He hands me the envelope as I open it and pull the top certificate out, finding it to be the same as every other time.
Great.This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.
We exchange a brief goodbye, with him telling me he will be in touch soon with details of the next drop, as I nod and tell him to contact my father about it.
Watching them pack up, I pull out my phone when feeling it vibrate, seeing that Sofia had replied to my message:
'Hey, we are good thanks! We went out for drinks but we are only a fifteen minute walk away from your place. We will see you when we get back.'
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Went out for drinks? How the fuck did they manage that without ID?! The bars in town were filled with old creepy drunks, probably slobbering all over them for being the youngest in there!
"Daryl!" I holler out, seeing him rush towards me thinking that something was wrong with the shipment.
"What bar is a fifteen minute walk from my place? Sofia went out with Emma, did you know that they were going out drinking?" I question him accusingly watching him glare back at me due to my tone.
He pulls out his own phone, his eyes scanning over a text message from Sofia, as I feel the jealousy begin to simmer.
She was texting us both...
"No I didn't know, but she did get her hair done and shit so I should've probably asked." Daryl sighs, as my brows pull together at his words.
She got her hair done? For what? Who is she trying to impress? Maybe they were meeting up with people...
"You stay here and wrap this up and I'll go see if they are ok." I demand, as Daryl shakes his head at me.
"Why can't I go?!" He argues, as I feel like strangling him on the spot.
"Because you were with them and didn't even suspect that they were going out tonight! How would you not think to ask after they both went shopping and got their hair done? They didn't just get their hair done to sit around all night did they? Idiot!" I respond harshly, seeing Daryl's eyes flash with a temper.
"Fuck off Vin!" He waves me off and walks away from me, as I turn on my heels and storm towards my car.
Now I just need to figure out what bars are a fifteen minute walk from my place...
But I'll find them, if it's the last thing I do tonight.