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Buyer’s Market(320)



Out of the corner of my eye I see someone I’d rather not see: Lester fucking Vicks. That motherfucker is running this show. I should’ve realized this right from the start.

Somehow, I have a feeling that he’s doing this to Destiny because of me.

But how? And why?

The answers will have to come out later; right now, I need to find Destiny and make sure that she’s safe. But first, I fish my cell phone out of my pocket and fire off a quick text message to Strokes. Police raid at DD, I type and then hit send. She’ll know what to do in case Lester decides to pull the same stunt at Python.

The moment I see an opening, I run up the stairs that lead to Destiny’s office. Police are handcuffing everyone in sight, so I’m taking a huge risk just by being here… But fuck, I need to know if she’s safe.

I step inside her office, but the place is completely empty. I call her name just in case she’s hiding, but my only reply is silence.

Fuck, what do I do now?

Don’t worry, I’m not asking you.

No matter what the situation, I’m still fucking cool as a fucking cuke. I’ve been to this rodeo before. Not completely worried just yet.

I step out of the office and, noticing a door open on the side, I start piecing things together. I enter, head down a hallway and find myself at the top of a fire escape; on the way here every single door was open, so Destiny must have come through here with the police on her heels.

Running down the fire escape, I call my driver and tell him to pick me up on the back.

You know, you gotta appreciate his fucking response when I tell him to meet me outside the club.

“Already here, boss, turned the car around the moment I saw the police,” he tells me and it totally fucking justifies my hiring policy—only the best, only the most trustworthy.

When my shoes hit the concrete, the headlights of my limo flash once. The driver is just turning the corner, the large limo struggling to get through the tight alley.

Whatever you do, I do not want to hear the joke that’s going through your head if it’s going through your head of my limo being too big for Destiny’s fucking alley, okay?

I know I’m not that worried, but it’s still pretty serious. I gotta find that woman.

“I’ll take it from here,” I say as I open the driver’s door. “Go around the corner and get to Python and make sure everything is under control there.” He doesn’t even reply; he just gets out of the driver’s seat, picks up his cell phone, and starts heading over as I sit myself behind the wheel.

I shut the door and take the gear out from neutral, my foot pressing down on the clutch. Destiny must be close and, if I act quick, I might find her before Lester’s men do.

I can’t believe that I’m about to do this, but fuck it. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and I have no time to waste right now. I step my foot down on the accelerator and, as the engine starts to roar, I let go of the clutch.

The limo races down the alley and, by some miracle, I manage not to hit any of the mirrors against the wall. Swerving as the alley comes to an end, I press down on the brake and turn the wheel as if I’m driving not a limo but the fucking Titanic; this thing is too huge to maneuver at the speed I’m going, but it’ll have to do.

I honk as the limo jumps out onto Broadway, and people start jumping out of the way as the big black limo finally gets into the right lane.

Lucky for me, most passer-bys are more worried about what’s going on at Dirty Destiny than they are about the madman behind the limo’s steering wheel. No wonder, there are so many cops around Destiny’s club that you’d think she’s the fucking head of the Islamic State that they’re chasing after.

I can see the whole confusion around Destiny’s club from where I am, but that’s not what I’m interested in right now. As I drive down Broadway, I slow down and narrow my eyes as I try to spot Destiny or the cops chasing after her.

Then I see it, two men holding guns running down the sidewalk. They’re making a fucking show, pushing people around brandishing their weapons. They’re acting like the rest of the police, except they are not wearing any uniforms… and they don’t look like cops at all.

Fuck, if Lester brought guys like these for a raid, he sure means business.

I start driving after them, trying to keep my distance, but then they stop. They talk to one another, look around, and I start feeling relieved as I realize that they’ve probably lost Destiny.

But then the fuckers start pointing and then head down an alley. I can’t follow them there with this limo… I could just follow on foot, but I risk losing them.

Well, fuck it; I press my foot down to the metal and grit my teeth as the limo jumps over the sidewalk. The men are already reaching the end of the alley, and they’re so deep in their hunt that they barely notice the roaring limo behind them.