Delivery

Cade

I stop my bike outside a club I've never been to before, pulling out the small tracker Cole gave me earlier. The red dot pulses steadily on the screen.

Right place.

I park Roxie and slip a knife into my shoe—just in case—before heading inside.

The smell hits me immediately. My nose scrunches as the odor overwhelms my senses. People are doing drugs in the open, betting on card games in corners, drinking straight from bottles, all sorts of degenerate shit happening in plain view.

I scowl, following the tracker deeper into the club.

Usually, whenever I have to collect a package for Cole, I meet the delivery person at a location I choose. Somewhere neutral, public enough to discourage stupidity but private enough to avoid attention.

But I had to come find them tonight because I stopped by the underground ring first. Because of Quinn hiding in my car. Because everything got delayed.

This is what the phone call was about. What I was actually supposed to be doing instead of fighting and