Only You by Jerry Cole (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📕

He reached into his pocket to pull out the cash, but Curly waved him down. “Not so fast.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t do singles.”

“Oh... well...” Sherman hesitated, hand still shoved in his pocket, wrapped around the cash. “Do you ah... should I ring Mad Dog or —”

“I have a proposition.” Curly sniffed, pushed himself up and strode around the table toward Sherman. For a moment, Sherman considered fleeing, only to stop himself when he realized how pointless that would be to do. “You said you worked for a travel company?” He reached Sherman, towering over the man like Mt. Fuji over Tokyo.

“I did.”

“Not anymore?”

“I was fired last month.”

Curly pushed his tongue into his lip. “But you still know people?”

“Know people?” Sherman blinked. “Know who – what are you —”

Again, Curly silenced Sherman, but this time with nothing more than a single raised finger. “Lockdown had been hard on all of us.” Curly spoke softly, but still with amazing authority. “Especially in regard to where borders are concerned. They’re closed, you see.”

“Tell me about —”

Another raised finger silenced him. “In times like this, we’ve had trouble getting our... product, into the country. We used to use private pilots, but they’re all grounded at the moment. As of now, the only planes leaving and entering this country are commercial.”

Curly paused, his eyes meeting Sherman’s. Somehow, he managed to look caring and understanding, maybe even friendly? In that moment, Sherman almost wanted to help him... this might have also been to do with how terrified he was also.

“Are you saying...” Sherman paused, expecting Curly to interrupt. When he didn’t, he continued, “You want me to you import —”

“All I want is for you to put me in contact with pilots you know are still flying... those who ah, have a certain business ethic about them. That’s all.”

“Right... that’s all.” Sherman’s mind was racing. He knew what Curly wanted. But he didn’t know if he could do it.

“If you do this for me – for us.” He indicated to the entire room, all of whom were watching now, silent, waiting, anticipating. “Let’s just say that those pesky fees you pay will disappear. Free cocaine for now and forever, in case you misunderstood.”

Sherman... had no idea what to do or say. On the surface, the choice was easy. Curly had just asked him to help smuggle drugs into the country. It was a request that any sane person would say no to immediately. And then, just to hammer the point home, he’d leave the clubhouse and change his number! That was the right thing.

Only, it wasn’t that easy. What if he said no and Curly and the others hurt him? What if he said no and they didn’t let him leave? Or, more realistically, what if he said no and then he couldn’t buy cocaine again? Ever. What if it was this or nothing?

Sherman didn’t think of himself as an addict, but right now that addiction was testing his will to live. Would it really be so bad, he asked himself? Really, he was twice removed from the process. All he had to do was put them in contact. He actually knew at least three pilots off the top of his head who would —

But no! That wasn’t an option either. That was drug smuggling and he wouldn’t be a part of it.

But also... he had no job... no prospects... nothing to lose and so much to gain —

“Well?” Curly pulled him back into the moment. “What do you say? Want to save a little money and make things easy for me and my boys here?” He indicated to the room again, to all those watching eyes. “Want to do Curly here a personal favor?”

“I... I... I...” Sherman stuttered over his response as he tried to decide what he was going to say. “I... I... I...” he really had no idea.

***

Just as Sherman had expected, Bradley was waiting up for him when he got home. It wasn’t late or anything, barely even 10PM, but a part of him hoped that Bradley might have gone to bed... that they could have their make-up conversation the next morning. No such luck.

“There you are!” Bradley was across the living room and at the front door before Sherman had so much as stuck a foot inside. “Fuck me, I was worried – where did you go?!” His tone was laced with worry, and the look he wore suggested that he was more concerned than anything else. Sherman counted this as a good thing, as there was less chance that he’d be mad.

“Just to see Nick,” he lied. “I’m sorry. I should have called —”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have —”

“It’s fine.”

“It isn’t.”

“Couples fight,” Bradley countered.

“We don’t,” Sherman insisted.

“Well then, we were way overdue.”

This back and forth was said among a cavalcade of hugs and kisses. When Sherman walked through the front door, Bradley was at him, wrapping his arms around Sherman and pulling him in close. He then started kissing him on the head and lips haphazardly, all the while apologizing for what had happened.

And as for Sherman? He allowed it. Firstly, it was infinitely better than fighting, and if this was all that came of that fight, than he would count himself lucky. And second... he didn’t want Bradley pushing on why he was at Nick’s in the first place. Sherman was a terrible liar and he did not need that coming out now. Not when they were so close to making up.

In regard to that fight too... it was dumb. There was no other way to really describe it. Sherman had known that he was being annoying; he had suspected so for weeks. But he also didn’t care. With his job gone, his money dwindling, and his drug addiction slowly worsening, it