Chapter 9 #2
Marcos leaned forward. “If you don’t mind me asking, although knowing this is important now that you’ve mentioned it. You know… in case you may need to be off. But what exactly is wrong with your brother?”
For a second, I debated whether to answer, then I sighed and disclosed Kyrin’s situation to him.
Marcos nodded slowly in understanding, then he leaned back in his chair again. “I can work with honest desperation. What I can’t work with is someone who pretends they’re stronger than they really are.”
I let out a slow breath. “I’m strong.”
Marcos nodded. “Yeah… you are. But now I gotta see if you’re smart too. That being said… this might actually be the perfect job for you. If you make the runs, you could have that money in a matter of weeks.”
My eyes widened in shock. “Weeks?”
“Three months at the most… could be sooner. We pay very well, and since you have a little situation, Boss may be a little generous and give you an advance. Just depends on how well you do in the first few weeks.”
“Boss?”
Marcos smiled slightly. “Oh, I forgot to mention… I’m not the boss. I’m the middleman—a recruiter, to better put it.”
I sat there processing that.
Well, who the hell is the boss?
“Who is he… or she?” I asked, out of curiosity.
“You’ll meet him when he’s ready to meet you. Until then, you basically work for me.”
“Got it.”
Marcos clapped his hands once—light and final—like that alone shut the conversation down.
“So it all comes down to one question. How bad do you want this job?”
My fingers rubbed together nervously. “Can my brother come with me on the job?”
“Hell no!” he shouted in response, causing me to flinch.
“My bad,” he quickly apologized. “Look, I understand your brother’s situation…
I do,” Marcos continued, sitting back, his voice losing some of its edge.
“And I respect you wanting to be there for him. But this?” He tapped the desk with his finger.
“This is a solo job. No exceptions. No tagalongs… no family… no kids… no one riding with you or waiting in the car… ever.”
He let the word ever hang in the air.
“It’s not because I don’t trust you; it’s because this operation doesn’t care about good intentions, sad stories, or the fact that you got a little brother who needs you; it cares about risk, and bringing anyone with you is a risk we can’t take… and neither can you.”
I swallowed hard.
“Yeah, it sounds harsh. I know. But the truth is, sometimes you gotta give something up to get out of the hole you’re in, sometimes you’ll miss moments you don’t want to miss, and sometimes you’ll carry guilt you don’t deserve.
But if you’re really trying to change your life?
If you’re trying to keep that boy of yours alive and taken care of?
Then this sacrifice?” He nodded slowly. “This is the one that gets you there.”
Marcos wasn’t judging or threatening me; he was just telling the truth as someone who’d already lived it.
“And before you think it,” he added, leaning forward, “no… putting your life, your time, or your safety on the line for him doesn’t make you a bad sister; it makes you someone who’s doing what the world forced you to do. That’s the game.”
He sat back again, eyes locked onto mine with steady pressure. “So, what is it gonna be? No pressure, but I do need an answer before you leave.”
I bit my lip. “If I say no, you’re not going to have me killed as soon as I walk out of here for knowing what I know?”
Marcos let out a low, sinister, amused, and disrespectfully calm chuckle. “What do you know? That you’ll be transporting goods? For all you know, you could be transporting toys, electronics… clothes. I never told you what.”
The unknown was exactly what bothered me.
I closed my eyes and said a quick prayer.
God… guide me with my quick decision making.
When I opened them again, I looked straight at him. “Time’s not on my side. So if this is real, I’m in.”
And just like that… my life changed.
Marcos studied my face for a second after I gave him my answer, then he nodded slowly, like he’d expected it all along. “Good choice.”
I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse.
He slid the tablet back toward himself and tapped the screen a few times. “Alright, now we make it official.”
He then reached into a drawer and pulled out a thin stack of papers.
My stomach fluttered again. “What exactly am I signing?” I asked carefully.
“Confidentiality agreements, liability waivers, and a non-disclosure agreement.”
Contracts… of course.
He slid the first page toward me and handed me a pen. “Basically, you’re agreeing that anything you see, hear, or do while working with us stays between us.”
“Or?” I boldly challenged.
“Or things get complicated.”
That answer didn’t exactly calm my nerves. Still, I picked up the pen. If I was already stepping into the unknown, there was no point half-stepping now.
Page after page slid across the desk.
Sign here… initial there.
At one point, he rolled out a small electronic fingerprint scanner. “Finger here.”
I hesitated. “This is starting to feel real official.”
“It is.”
I placed my finger on the glass, and the machine beeped.
Marcos saved the file and leaned back slightly. “Congratulations… you officially work for us.”
He stood up and walked over to a small cabinet against the wall. When he opened it, I heard the unmistakable sound of rubber bands snapping.
My eyebrows lifted in curiosity.
Marcos came back to the desk holding two thick bundles of cash and placed them in front of me.
For a second, I just stared at them. “Uh… what’s this?”
“It’s a welcome package.”
My eyes widened. “For real? But wait. Is this like an advance or a loan I have to pay back?” I asked, needing clarity before my heart got ahead of my brain.
He chuckled. “Nah… none of that. Consider it a courtesy gift for helping us out. Not a cent of that has to be paid back. Go shopping for you and your brother. Get you a new car. Go do some of that girly shit with spas or whatever y’all do. That’s yours… all yours. No strings attached.”
I had never held that much cash in my life—not even close.
My vision blurred, and I blinked fast before I embarrassed myself.
“You good?” Marcos asked.
“Yeah. This is just… a lot.”
“Well, just know… there’s plenty more where that came from. I believe we’re going to make good money together, so get used to it.”
I stood up slowly, still staring at the cash. “Thank you… for real.”
He waved it off like it was nothing. “It’s all good. Come on. I’ll walk you out.”
Once we made it to the front, he said, “Go home, get some rest, and come ready to work in two days.”
Two days.
This is really happening.
“Yup… two days,” Marcos repeated, catching my expression. “You’ll come right back here. I’ll give you the time the day before. And when you show up, you’ll get more instructions.”
I nodded. “Oh… wait!” I blurted. “What about my other jobs?”
Marcos shrugged. “That’s up to you.”
He pushed the warehouse door open.
“If you want to juggle three jobs so nothing looks suspicious… that’s your call.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“Anything involved with making money usually is. Second option: You can also put in your two weeks at both jobs and leave on good terms. That way you’ve got something to fall back on if this doesn’t work out.”
That actually made sense.
“But understand something,” he added. “When I call you, you need to be ready. Some runs might be early morning, but most of them happen at night.”
“Okay.”
“And since I know what you’ve got going on at home, we’re going to start you off with shorter routes. I’ll also send a schedule ahead so you can plan around it. That gives you time to plan your week and keep your other life looking normal.”
My other life.
That phrase hit harder than he probably realized.
I nodded, gratitude slipping into my voice. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”
“But I need to warn you… short routes don’t pay as much.”
I figured that part.
“The real money comes from the long runs—crossing state lines, overnight trips. The kind of routes most people either can’t handle or don’t have the nerve for.”
His eyes stayed on mine, measuring my reaction.
“And if you prove you can handle those, that’s when the numbers start looking real different.”
I nodded in understanding. “Question. Will I be using my own car for these runs?”
“Shit, I forgot to tell you that part. But no.”
I let out a breath of internal relief. My car wasn’t in terrible shape, but there was no way—no damn way—I was putting cartel-level mileage on an engine that I had to literally pray over before cranking on some days.
“You’ll get a different car for each route. Sometimes you’ll even switch cars mid-trip… to keep things clean,” he explained.
I slowly nodded again.
Then, right before I stepped outside, he stopped me with one last sentence.
His voice changed to a more serious tone, “Just one more thing, Ajori.”
I turned back toward him.
“If you ever think about screwing us over…”
He paused, then smiled in a way that wasn’t friendly at all.
“Don’t. “
A chill ran up my spine. “Got it. Have a good night. And thank you again.”
As I powerwalked back to my car, my hands were shaking, my heart was racing, and sitting in my purse was more money than I had ever held in my life.
I pray my attempt to save my brother's life doesn’t land me in jail or dead! Because nothing about this sounded legal… but It was worth a try.