Business Man

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
In this crime infested dark world, He is only trying to get by.

Submitted: January 08, 2008

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Submitted: January 08, 2008

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I pulled my Carmel brown El Camino into the lonely parking lot, my headlights blazed across the charcoal black cement floor like a wave before permanently stopping and brightly illuminating the yellow parking block. Where I shifted the car into park and looked around the lot. Nothing. Just wind Harassing the nearby  tree’s that stood on the parameter of the lot and the low rumbling of traffic coming from the interstate a block away. I rolled down the window and lit up a cigarette  allowing a cloud of gray smoke to lift up into the starry night sky, As I rested my head on the green leather seat I turned up the radio to let the powerful lyrics of Ac/dc flood the car. I checked myself in the rear view mirror, a gray beanie was attempting to cover my untidy dangling brown hair but it wasn’t doing the best job, due to the fact you could see pieces of brown hair oozing out from the edge like spider tentacles. I ran my fingers over the scar on my check that was, after two weeks finally starting to fade just a little. My green eyes looked worried and scared, which worried me for a second but I shook it off telling myself it was just my own paranoia sneaking up on me. I pushed the mirror away and glanced at the neon green clock on my cars radio which read 3:27 AM I sighted and looked around the lot once again...I was starting to think this was a waste of time, and that the  guy probably flaked on me and I was going come back empty handed.
Just as I was about to leave angry and annoyed, I heard a loud engine roar into the parking lot and I looked up to see another pair of headlights had entered. As the vehicle grew closer I could make out that it was an old red Chevy Nova. The car parked in front of me, blinding my eyes with the headlights for a second before the driver turned them off.
My heart begun to beat so hard It felt like it was going rip right through my chest. As a short man climbed out of the passenger seat leaving the driver in the car with the engine running. He begun to approach the car. My palms got sweaty and a knot tied up in my throat. images of everything that could go terribly wrong flashed across my eyes like a train from hell. But as the short man’s footsteps grew louder and closer to the car, I had to brush my fear away and take a reassuring breath that everything was going go My way. I had to remain calm and cool and show no signs of panic cause, after all nobody wants to buy from a nervous white-boy, I put my cigarette out in the ash tray as he came up.
The man’s face was half hidden under the hood of his black jacket, all I could make out was a pair of bloodshot eyes and a glint of yellow which come from behind his lips. His hands ware dug deep into his faded blue jean pockets that ware ripped quite carelessly at the knees.
“You got my shit man?” He asked, his voice low and harsh.  
“Depends bro, You got my money?” I asked calmly as I unnoticeably slipped my left hand under the car seat. The man dug in his coat pocket for a minute before pulling out a wad of fresh cash bind together by a rubber band. As he held it out for me to see, I noticed multiple holes that looked like they come from needles on his wrists.
“Yeah, yeah I got it fool, just give me my fucking shit, hurry up bro this place is hot with 5-0” he said in a tensed voice as he grinded his teeth and looked around the dark lot. I let out a small chuckle amused at his nervousness.
“Pace yourself my man, I got you covered. I got you that shit that will have you on cloud nine in no time baby” I said in a smooth low voice. I used my free hand to lean over and open the glove box. And took out a zip-lock baggy; half full with white powder. As I handed the bag of dope to him and took the money.  my other hand grasped tightly on a cold handle under the seat. The junkie started to head back to his truck.  “Hey, man just one more thing” I called out from my window  with a half smile. He looked back at me confused but none the less walked back up to the window; talk about your stupid criminals. I pulled a black 9mm pistol out from behind the seat and aimed it at his chest and moved my jacket aside to show a golden glint of a  badge hanging from my pants belt buckle
“LAPD, you’re under arrest for illegally purchasing narcotics” I yelled, my voice now loud and demanding much unlike the smooth one I was using with him only five minutes ago. The mans blood shot eyes grew wide with panic as the driver of the Nova roared alive the engine and did a very loud 180 turn leaving tire marks in a shape of a C before storming out of the parking lot. And by the nervous and panicked look of the junkie, I knew he was going try to run, and I had a very long night and I didn’t feel like chasing some low life, dead beat through the streets of the valley for the rest of the mourning, so as he begun to ran, I swung my door open slumming it right dead center in his stomach, with a loud groan he went kneeling over it, I watched half amused, half ready as he landed with a loud thud on his back, no doubt breaking something in his scrawny body. As he laid on the floor groaning in pain I jumped out of the car and gave his rib a slight kick so he would roll over on his back and I mounted over him, slumming a pair of cold metal cuffs over his needle ejected wrists
“There be plenty of stuff for you to blow in jail” I said loving my own corny remark.


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