Page 39 of Shadows Within
I grab the product from the trunk and walk up to the side of the house. The old pledges that did this run used to say, “whatever you do, don’t knock on the front door. Go around the side and to the sliding door at the back.” We thought they were fucking with us. Turns out they have nosy neighbours who like to complain, well… theyhadnosy neighbours.
We reach the back door and knock on the glass. Our usual three suspects sit at a table visible from the back porch—they always wait for us there. I’m not sure if they live here or just use this as a drop house. The door opens.
“The cash is in the kitchen,” says Tom, a balding man with a larger build, probably in his mid-twenties. He seems to run the show around here. Tom stands on the side of the sliding door and motions for us to come in. We step into a room with floral wallpaper and butter yellow curtains that look like they aren’t from this century. Nate, an average thirty-year-old with dark hair and a crappy mustache, stands and reaches into a cupboard in the kitchen behind Tom. He grabs a stack of cash and puts it on the table. Harrison walks over and picks it up without counting it. We’ve done this enough to know that it’s the right amount. Harrison faces me and nods. I put the tightly packaged drugs on the table.
“The next drop is already arranged. We’ll see you in a few weeks.” I say, then silence fills the room.
“See you shortly.” Tom reaches his hand out. I don’t shake it, and we leave the house—we’re past formalities at this point.
The bright moon shines against the well-lit streets as we make our way back to the car. War time bungalows surround us, coming more into view as I drive down the road.
Millhaven’s welcome sign greets us once we drive into town. Returning here never feels like home. Brick mansions come into view as we pull up to The Society. I park, Harrison gets out, and he walks over to his car.
“I’ll find out if they plan on having Vanessa at the party. Don’t say anything to anyone else or someone might get suspicious,” he says, pulling his car door open. I don’t answer. Harrison drives off.
I pull my phone out as I sit, parked in the driveway. It’s only been a day, but I need to see her. I type a message.
Callum:Be ready in 10.
I can be at her house faster than that, but I want to give her a few minutes notice, which is unlike me. I stare at the screen, hoping for a response.
Scarlett:Yes, Sir.
That little brat.Does she know what she does to me when she talks like that?
Callum:Careful, Angel.
She must be glued to her phone, just as engaged as I am.
Scarlett:Or what…
I can’t wait another minute. I pull away from The Society and merge onto Cambridge Street, heading into town.She puts up a strong front, but how much will it take to break her?
I plan on where I want to take her. Not my house—even though I know no one will be there, I don’t want the toxicity of that place to impact her. I know the perfect spot.
Callum:Come outside and find out.
I idle a few houses down. The streetlights are different on this side of town—grey poles with dull yellow lights as opposed to the black cast iron lights I’m used to. Those would never be found on the East side of town, where homes look like they belong in a classic British novel, and the bright streetlights act as manipulative beacons of hope guiding the way.
Scarlett steps out of the house. My eyes gravitate to her legs, wrapped in tight jeans. I can see every curve.Fuck. I stretch my pants to adjust my growing length. She walks in front of the car. I reach across and open the passenger door, as she slides into the seat. Just seeing her does it for me. Without a word, I grab her face and plant my open lips onto hers. Her hot breath enters my mouth as she moans. I suck on her bottom lip then pull away.
“What’s that for?” She looks slightly irritated and out of breath. Her plump lips and glossy eyes cry for more, but I don’t give into her yet.
“Brats get punished.” She has no idea of her punishment today. Slowly, I’ll break down every wall she’s ever built. I know she’s not ready for it yet.
“Sure, Callum.”
I hold back a response and accelerate, pulling away from the curb. The car engine roars as I drive to a familiar part of town. We usually don’t talk much in the car, but today I don’t want the silence, I crave her thoughts.
“I’m not close with my grandparents,” I blurt out. She knows that I’m not done.
“My dad’s parents are from the same world—wealth, power, greed. And my mom’s parents are just like her—they can be paidto stay quiet.” I have no respect for either of them. I don’t tell her that, but I’m sure she can piece it together.
“Do you see them a lot?” I can tell that she cares by the genuine way that she asks.
“No, only on special occasions, at fundraisers and sometimes for family dinners.” We’re almost out of town when I turn down Fraser Street, a road we’ve never been on together.
The houses on this road scream a different kind of wealth—one that I’m sure Scarlett isn’t familiar with. Sure, she’s friends with Sophia, and her dad has some high-profile clients, but even I’m in awe of these lavish houses when I see them. We turn into the most extravagant driveway on the block—the home of my grandparents, my father’s parents. The perfectly spaced oak trees precisely line the driveway.
