Page 72 of Arranged

We pull right into the warehouse by the port that holds the trucks. Every month, my men go to the port and pick up the crates from the shipping containers and bring them here to house them until the night we do our run.

I climb out of the car and Javi emerges from the shadows with two of his men. “Santino, I’m so glad you’re keeping your word.”

“I always keep my word, Javi. You know that.”

“Sí, of course. Introduce me to my potential new drivers.”

“This is Ronnie and Caleb. They’ll be riding with me.” The others arrive and join us so I can introduce them all to Javi.

“Truck one, three, and four can leave now,” I instruct. “I’ll head out last.”

We all do our cursory checks of the trucks to make sure there’s nothing wrong on the outside that will get us pulled over.

“Alright, let’s head out boys.”

We’re going to the warehouse on the outskirts of Philly that will then primarily distribute to Philly, Camden, and Trenton. The Newark warehouse in Jersey will distribute to Newark, Elizabeth, and Patterson. The Bronx warehouse is for a lot of the city, and the New Haven warehouse is for most of the North East.

At the warehouses, the drugs are handed over to men who work for Javier, who then cut and package it to be sold to various gangs, organizations, and high-volume dealers who then sell itto their customers, and so on and so forth. We’re an important link in the chain, but it’s past time to sever that link.

To avoid the tolls and cameras on I-95 and the Turnpike, we take a longer route that’s going to take us over two hours.

“We’re five minutes out, Boss,” Darren, one of my men, informs me.

“Finally.” My ass hurts and I need to stretch my legs, but I’m not admitting that, or I’ll sound like the old man of the group.

I turn onto a block that’s lined in warehouses, both abandoned and occupied, and when I get to the one we want, whoever is monitoring the cameras spots us, and the garage style door lifts to let us drive in.

The door shutters down behind us and I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach in a matter of seconds. It’s dark and quiet. Too dark and too quiet.

“I don’t like this,” I say quietly.

“It’s never like this. We’re always greeted when we come in,” Darren says back, just as quietly.

“You packing?”

“Of course.”

“How about you, Caleb?”

“I am,” he says calmly.

“Message Ronnie in the back to stay still and quiet. Just in case something happens, he needs to stay with the product,” I tell him, and he discreetly pulls his phone out to text him. “Get ready for anything, boys.” I pull my gun from behind my back and flip the safety off.

I’d back the fuck out of here if the reinforced barricade of a door wasn’t just closed to keep us in. There’s no way this truck will break it down.

I take a breath and scan the darkness in front of us, the headlights not showing anything but a brick wall in front of us.

“Let’s fucking do this,” Darren says to Caleb. “Boss, you stay in here while I check it out first.”

Darren opens his door only as far as he needs to slip out, and Caleb follows right behind him. I’m not a pussy who sits back while others protect me, so I slip out of my door, and that’s when all hell breaks loose.

The first bullet rings out, and a searing fire rips through my shoulder.

FUCK!

I drop low, not knowing where it came from, and roll under the truck. I need to find the fucking light switch in this place to take away their element of surprise.

The pain is easy to ignore, and the moment the lights turn on, I know Darren or Caleb had the same idea as me. I roll out the other side of the truck and put a bullet in the chest of someone aiming their gun at Darren.

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