Chapter 3: Nikki

1253 Words
Mick' s face turned serious. It wasn't often I brought him bad news, and he knew that. “Oh?" “I had two security officers on me. They knew what I was doing, tried to trap me in one of the stores, but I was able to get away without a trace." “Then I don't really see the problem," Kenneth states still looking over the jewelry. I move my gaze back over to Mick who is looking at his partner with his eyes narrowed. “If you don't know the problem, Mr. Alfonso, then maybe I have invested in the wrong man." Kenneth Alfonso looks up and over at Mick with tension weighing heavy on his features. A few blinks later his gaze transfers over to me, I stare him down and answer his question. “The problem, Mr. Alfonso, is that, if simple security guards hired only to watch over a local shopping center can figure out who and what we are, then we now have to change up our game plan. That is not a location we can enter for a while, and I am not the one that should be out and in the open right now." “But if you were able to get all of this from just- “ “She's right Kenneth." Mick states then looks over at me. “I want you inside the Serendin for now. I'll let you know when it's time for another run from you. Now, gather these items and hand them over to Charles on your way out. I will come by later and compensate you." Nodding my head, I eye Kenneth warily as I make my way over to the coffee table once more. Grabbing the loot, I scoop everything inside the bag with one swipe, then stand and nod my head at Mick. Stepping out, I throw Charles the bag, laughing when he catches it last minute. and then walk away and head around the corner to my room. I grab my key out of my bra and unlock the door, my mind still reeling on why Mr. Alfonso was there today. He's obviously a cop, and, if the badge was a clear indication, a detective at that. Yet, Mick had him in his room, riffling through our things? It doesn't make sense, but the entire time I have known Mick, I have never been let astray by him, and I don't think that's going to start anytime soon. Brody is sitting on the small sofa bed we bought when we first got into the bandits, his long hands wrapped around a thick glass bong that has every color of the rainbow painted on. He eyes me when I come in and throw my phone and keys on the small counter beside the built-in kitchen. “Hey, how did it go?" He asks as he lights up and takes a long drag. I sit beside him happy to be off my feet for now. “Got enough for Mick to give us a good amount. Problem is, I drew a lot of unwanted attention." Brody takes another long drag; hearing the bubbles churning around inside makes me roll my eyes at my brother. “Somebody call the cops?" He says in a long, deep, breathless voice. “Worse: I was chased by some two-bit wanna be cops. I think they had my number the moment they saw me. Told Mick about them, he wants me off the streets for the time being." “That sucks, Nik." His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a genuine, apologetic sigh. “It's fine," I begin, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Don't worry about me." “Hard not to sis. I'm your brother, fairly sure it's in our DNA to worry." “Yes, but you're a little brother." I ruffle his hair, then laugh when he sweeps my hand away and groans. Brody nods and then attempts to hand me the bong, at which I shake my head and stand to walk away. I've done the drug thing before, and it was never my thing. I always like to keep a level head in things. “You off to bed already? It's only one in the afternoon." “Yeah. I think I'm coming down with something contagious, so make sure you stay the hell away from me." I joke as I head towards my room. I have no intentions of going to bed early, but after my chase and speaking with Mick and his potential new partner, I need somewhere to crash while my thoughts run a muck within my brain. “Hey, Nik?" I turn and watch as Brody stands after one more hit, leaving the bong on the coffee table littered with his crap. “I was thinking that on the next one out, I could join you." “I don't know, Brody…" I begin, shaking my head, but he cuts me off. “I know you're worried about me messing up, but I'm good, really. I've been doing more training with Miles, and he thinks I'm ready." Yeah, that would be because Miles can't stand him, but I don't tell Brody that. Most of the Bandits worry over whether or not they can trust Brody. Bandits on drugs aren't always trust worth and due to the last time Brody royally messed up, I get why they have indecision about him. Part of the reason Brody hasn't been outed by them is because of me. Another fact I won't tell Brody. “Look Brody, it's not that I don't trust you. It's just that it's dangerous, and—" “Oh please. I'm so tired of hearing that. You think I can't do it? That I can't take care of myself, or that I can't follow simple orders?" “No, I think you're a pot head that has a temper problem," I shout, hating when I argue with Brody. Mick has never trusted him, and, after the stunt he pulled by bringing some pathetic high groupie in here not long ago, no one else does either. It's been two months since Brody has been out on a run, and I think the pent-up boredom is beginning to take its toll. “Are you kidding me? I do this because I'm bored. If Mick needed me, I'd be there in a heartbeat, and you know it." Brody's face is turning red, and I can tell his anger is beginning to lose its grip. Brody has always had an anger management problem and being on the streets as a teenager wasn't necessarily better for him. Being a hot head in the field doesn't help anybody but he just doesn't seem to understand that. “Loyalty and street smarts are not the same thing, Brody. It takes skill to do what we do and until you lose your grip on that bong, you aren't ready." I turn and begin walking into my room. “Well it ain't up to you, is it?" This turns me back around. “What is that supposed to mean?" “It means that I'm going to Mick about this whole thing and if he tells me he wants me on a job then I'm taking it." With these parting words, Brody takes his dramatic exit and leaves the room. “Just great," I mumble, then head to my room, hoping that once Brody comes down from his high, he won't remember his outburst.
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