Page 3 of Drift

Drift held his look, then shook out of the grip and moodily focused back outside, arms folded.

Habits… bad for the soul. They got you noticed. Made you fuck up. He hated how everyone of Jackson’s lot always jumped like a condom onto his dicktoremind him. It’s why he never stayed with one crew in London for long. People got too comfortable, took liberties that weren’t there’s to take.

A nod, Leon stole the money off Brighty. “Gimme that.” He started thumbing through it, counting out the fives, tens, and fifties. “Fucking slow-as-shit pusher,” he mumbled. “Bloody drug dealers are easy pickings out here.” He pocketed it. “That’ll at least pay our wage loss for Jackson if nowt else. Jackson’ll handle the rest.”

Drift shifted to slip his seatbelt on, just giving a nod. He’d fed off a bad deal, job done. The rest was handled by those higher up in the chain, and with pulling this shit over a potential hit on a cello like this, Jacksonwouldbe handling it himself. He almost, almost felt sorry for Pick and his lot.

Leon started the engine, but caught in the rear-view mirror, Pick’s back gate came open, and Drift—

“Fuck.”

Heart flatlining, he ducked down in his seat.

“JesusChrist,” mumbled Leon in the same breath, and he started the engine, turning the key so quietly, looking ready to floor the accelerator. “What… why the fuck is bitch-faced Freak here?” A hard frown came Drift’s way as if he knew the answer.

Ava.

Damn his soul to hell, which it had been long ago, Drift ignored that look and forced himself to focus on the wing mirror.

Two young women stood sorting through their phones, but at nineteen, it was Ava, all her Japanese beauty, that came his way in the look she sent the Ford’s way, then dismissed it in the next. Heat mixed with the need to claw at his skin and tear it off him came on the half smile she’d sent his way, almost as if she knew he was here.

Anger more than anything else hitting his head, Drift waited for Ava to turn away with the other girl before he pushed out. He knew the call when he saw it.

“Hey.” Leon leaned over and caught the door, stopping him from shutting it. “Orders are clear. I get you here and back. No fucking drifting.” His look hardened. “You stay the fuck away from Freak and the kind of drug she is.”

“Wait—what?” Eyes widening, Brighty snapped his head around. “She’s here, with us?”

Leon ignored him and tugged out his phone, already thumbing buttons. “Or do I call West, hm?” He flicked a look at Drift. “Tellheryou’re out playing poison dick chase with psycho bitch face again?”

“Fucking…”Cunt. He bit back that last bit and reached over and covered Leon’s phone. “You don’t get it, dick,” he said flatly. “It’s daylight, outside of London, and she’s just come out of the same backyard we were in. There’s no coincidence with that bitch, so I need to know why she’s working the same party we are and why she’s playing calling card my way. Otherwise we could just be walking trouble back to Jackson’s if I don’t answer her dog whistle, and I ain’t doin’ that to him again.”

Leon looked ahead, made a point of focusing on the way ahead, not back where Drift needed to go. “She’s just fuckingwith your head.” He slipped his phone away, then he looked at Drift. “And you, little bro, you let her. Every. Fucking. Time.”

Drift eased out of the car and slammed the door shut. That wasn’t it. Leon didn’t get it. But why should he? There were street crew wars during the day, but all differences came to a stop when it came to them and facing the Night-walkers and… Ava. Most wouldn’t face her. They stayed in the daylight, letting Ava and hers put them to bed come ten pm. Drift wouldn’t ever let Ava put him to bed again, not with how… ill she played in and out of the covers.

Swearing under his breath, he opened the door again and leaned down. After touching distractedly at his heart, he kissed at his fingertips. “An hour, no more, I promise, big bro.”

Leon went to bite something out, then gave a rough sigh and looked away. “Petrol station we passed on the way in. Be there in an hour.” He looked his way as he shifted into gear. “That cunt decides to really play with you, it won’t matter what part of the bastard country we’re in anyway. She’ll find us.”

Yeah, Drift knew that. He shut the door, then a brief close of eye, he stayed low for a moment, keeping behind the car as Ava turned the corner at the end of the street with her friend, one he hadn’t seen before. Maybe that was a Welsh Night-walker sister showing her around? Bloody animals no matter the blood. But they both still had their phones in hand and kept to the footpath. So bloody innocent and normal to anyone walking by, only….

An odd taste stained the back of his throat, almost making him choke.

He hated how she poured the poison, and he followed and… drank from it.

His look went to the house next to Mrs Old as God’s Dog, more the drainpipe hugging into the side of her home. Drift found footing on the fence and landed in the back garden a moment later. The drainpipe gave him quick access to the rooftop, and he kept it low and fast from there. Houses were packed tightly together, leaving enough space to easily shift from one rooftop to another without losing his nuts in the process. Little safety took the streets wherever it took someone, so he’d learned long ago to take it to the rooftops, away from trouble.

Rooftops kept you safe. Drugs helped you forget why. Fuck. He’d picked the spliff up as well.

Ava worked through two more streets with her Welsh sister, both with their heads down and looking like they played text matches with each other. But then they came to a stop almost in the same dead quiet, in a more middleclass close, their looks going to the detached house sat closest to a park.

Drift shifted his look between the park, the safety of the detached home… the couple taking time out in the back garden.

How Ava turned Drift’s way.

Smiled.

Winked.

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