James’ POV

The past few months had been a breeze, a dream almost. Our route was perfect. We didn’t have to wake up super early so we could hang out with Peter as he got the others set up for the night shift and still had enough time left after we were done to hang out at the club every now and then.

Not to mention that we had more money than we knew what to do with. Well, more than I knew what to do with. Dev was used to having money so he felt right at home now that we had plenty left over after buying essentials. Having money was a strange thing for me though. It felt nice to have but I didn’t want to run out.

What if Drake decided he didn’t need us anymore? What if for some reason we couldn’t work? What would we do if the money dried up and we never had the chance to get it again? The thought made me anxious and I didn’t like thinking about it so I saved. Dev was still free to spend any of his extra money on shit like clothes, drinks, and whatever else he deemed worth his time but most of mine remained safely hidden in a picture frame in the bathroom. It was a system that we liked and that worked so what was the point in changing it?

The apartment was quickly becoming home too. It felt safe and warm despite the fact that Drake could come in whenever he felt like it and take it all away. Dev didn’t seem to love it; the closet was too small, there wasn’t a ton of room in the two bedrooms for whatever he wanted, the water pressure was subpar, and there was a leak under the sink but I had lived in worse for far longer so this was the life of luxury.

I still didn’t like the job. Selling drugs is not something I want to do long term but if it meant having a roof over my head and food in the fridge, I could handle doing this for a bit longer.

The people weren’t all bad either. Peter was fun, he could be happy with us staying in for weeks at a time or going out for all-nighters several days in a row. The club quickly became our stomping grounds and it was nice. I had never been overly fond of getting drunk after everything my father used to do under the influence but after being around Dev, Peter, and whoever else showed up for so long it quickly became my favorite pastime. Still, it was nice to nurse the hangover at Peter’s home. Most nights we came home drunk, and we ended up at Peter’s house only a few hours later. After only a few times of that, Peter gave up trying to send us home and managed to wrangle Dev and me back to his place to save us the trip later.

We usually got Mondays off which meant after a hard weekend of work and drinking, none of us moved from Peter’s couch for the day. Any time anyone wanted something but didn’t want to get up we fought in rock, paper, scissors to see who the unlucky one was. It was usually Dev but sometimes I took mercy on him and got up anyway.

It was a nice little routine that we had and I wasn’t ready to give it up yet. Which is why I had to bite my tongue so hard when Joshua Crow came into sight.

It was Sunday and per tradition, Peter, Dev, and I were sitting in the VIP area of Drake’s Club. Peter and Dev were already drunk off their asses and I had been well on my way to meeting them there when Crow walked through the velvet rope.

He was smiling at first, two of his friends following behind him as they talked about something that was surely stupid. When he smiled it was hard to believe this had been the same asshole who threatened me. He looked like he could be a regular kid in college, working for a degree to try and better his life, and only needed a few drinks to make a long week a bit easier. And then he saw me.

The smile turned to a glare instantly as his shoulders squared and he walked towards me. Dev and Peter were already wasted and I didn’t want to drag them into whatever this was about to be so I started to Crow.

We met in the middle of the seating area. The music was loud and people screamed over it but I swore I could hear the sound of his heartbeat in his chest. His friends crowded behind, clearly confused but willing to back him up in case anything went south.

“Pierce,” he spat like a curse. 

“Crow,” I said just as darkly.

“What the hell are you doing here? VIP is reserved for those who have proved they are an asset to Drake.”

“Then why the hell are your friends here,” I asked as I looked them over. Peter had showed us pictures of all the runners, trying to explain the ones we could let our guards down around. The two behind Crow were the ones whose spots we took when we got a better route. Most definitely not friendly. “If I’m above them and haven’t proven that I’m an asset, how the hell did they get in?”

Crow’s jaw clenched as he took a step forward. Our chests nearly touched and I could feel his breath on my face. One of Crow’s friends gently grabbed his shoulder to keep him from getting any closer.

“Don’t do this here,” his friend whispered with a smile that was far too wide to be real. “It’s not worth it.”

“Don’t tell me what it’s worth, Crewe,” Crow scoffed. Right. Tyler Crewe and Bill Turner. Peter said they used to be good before Crow took it too far. He said they could still be good if he could get them away from Crow. He had hoped I would do it for him. I wouldn’t but what Peter didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. 

“Might want to listen to your friend, Crow,” I teased with a light smirk as lights around me flashed. “What’s this I hear about you being on your last violence strick? I don’t think Drake would approve of you starting shit at his club. There’s no telling what he would do. On second thought, try something. I wouldn’t mind being promoted early.”

Crow’s mouth was set in a hard line while his fists at his side tightened. It was clear who was winning and I loved this.

“You aren’t taking anything from me,” he seethed and Crewe tightened his grip on Crow’s shoulder.

“At this rate, you’re practically giving it away,” I shrugged. He was still too close to me for my liking but I didn’t dare step back now. If he hit me first and I defended myself, I was sure I would still get in some type of trouble but Crow would be so much worse off.

“Let’s just go,” Turner sighed. “We’re supposed to be getting drunk. Starting fights was not on the agenda. If you keep this up, we’ll all get fired.”

I could see what Peter meant by them being good people if they weren’t being brought down by Crow all the time. Maybe once Crow was gone, I’d take Peter up on that offer but as long as they followed him they would get no help from me. 

“Drake isn’t going to shit to me,” Crow scoffed. “He can't afford to.” And I couldn’t help the eat-shit grin that came over my face when another hand clapped down on Crow’s shoulder. 

The hand was almost the size of Crow’s shoulder and was scarred heavily with years of fighting. I followed the hand up to toned arms coated in tattoos that disappeared behind a black dress shirt that was rolled up to his elbows. Staring down at Crow was Drake himself and if I had to guess, he had heard everything Crow had said.

“What exactly can’t I afford,” Drake asked with a glare I never thought I would be happy to see.

“Drake,” he said almost breathlessly, his face becoming more and more pale by the second.