The housing projects where Xavier supposedly lived were only a few minutes drive from the exit. Derrick’s headlights illuminated the the parking lot and the sparse, dead grass surrounding it, which had been dug up in places. The green and yellow blades of grass littered the edges of the lot, and dusted the surface of a torn couch which had been abandoned there.

“Park anywhere here, I’ll be right back,” Xavier said.

Derrick pulled up in a spot far away from lot’s entrance, and any of the housing units, to avoid attracting attention. It was cold, and there weren’t many people out in front of the projects, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you here,” Derrick said.

Xavier flung the car door open, sending a burst of cool night air into the car, and slammed the door shut. The air chilled Derrick’s throat, and woke him out of the half-daze he had been in while driving. It was an interesting feeling, being both incredibly tired and longing to sleep, but also wide-eyed, gaze darting to each shadow on the ground cast by passing cars.

Five minutes passed, and then ten minutes, and there wasn’t any sign of Xavier that he could see. He wasn’t going to try and get out of paying Derrick now that his penis prosthesis was working . . . was he? The man could certainly have snuck away, by just putting on a hoodie or otherwise changing his clothes, and blending in with the few residents who left the entrance to the one of the buildings. But Derrick had possession of the vibrator tablet that controlled Xavier’s dick as collateral. If Xavier wanted to skip out of paying, he’d have to skip out of orgasming that night as well.

A group of residents in hoodies left one of the buildings, the bulges in their clothing highlighted by the harsh lamplight. A few of them were carrying guns in their hoodie pockets, that was for sure.

Here Derrick was: all alone in this strange neighborhood, waiting for Xavier Williams to come back to him with another thirteen thousand dollars in cash: five thousand for the second half of the initial deal, and another eight thousand for Xavier’s request that they retrieve the tablet immediately. Would Xavier even make it out his apartment building without being mugged and losing all the money?

Maybe it had been a mistake to come with Xavier to retrieve the money at night. What if Derrick got jumped and mugged as well? A darker thought crossed Derrick’s mind. What if Xavier had a plan to keep the money and also get the tablet back? After all, paying a group of thugs a few hundred each to murk Derrick and steal the tablet was cheaper than giving Derrick thirteen thousand dollars.

Derrick jumped as something crunched onto his windshield. Ah, it was just a fallen twig with leaves on it. The wind picked up, and his car creaked and groaned, dislodging the twig.

It was scary, but the longer Derrick waited to collect payment, the more likely that Xavier would have already spent thirteen thousand dollars. And Derrick had come this far and risked so much; leaving without his payment was not an option. Not to mention that he had already committed to paying Maxine for her contributions to the job.

This was the fastest money he had made for the year—no—the fastest money Hack Alley had made for years. A similarly large payday might not arrive again anytime soon . . .

If Xavier wasn’t coming out, Derrick would have to go into the building, and get the money himself. Unless, of course, he died while still outside the building.

The group of residents had moved over from the outside of the apartments onto the parking lot.

They seemed to be searching for something in the parking lot, and cast their gaze over to Derrick’s car every now and then. The residents milled around, some of them peeking in car windows, until the entire group started moving closer to Derrick’s car.

The car doors were locked, but the windows wouldn’t hold up against any sort of beating, especially if one of them had a baseball bat or gun.

What should he do? Drive away? If Xavier came out again and didn’t see Derrick, they could probably just contact each other by phone. It was better than being surrounded, so Derrick started up the engine, and pulled out from the parking spot.

A few of the residents paused at seeing the car move. Did they notice him before he had started the car? Had Derrick just given away his own position by making noise in the darkness?

Derrick gassed the car forward. If he could make it out of the parking lot, should he park somewhere else and come back for Xavier on foot? Or contact Xavier and tell him to meet Derrick somewhere else? Maybe that would be better if the residents didn’t find Xavier suspicious, since he was supposedly a familiar face to them.

As he Derrick about to pull out of the parking lot, one of the residents jumped in front of the car and started waving his hands.

Shit. He couldn’t just run him over, but Derrick didn’t want to talk to the guy either. He slowed his car, and waited for a chance to escape.

As the man looped around his car towards the driver’s seat window, Derrick jammed the accelerator, screeching forward past the man, before another one of the residents appeared out of nowhere, opened his mouth in shock, and tried shielding himself from impact with his arm.

Derrick jammed the brakes, and stopped right in front of the man. He had no room to accelerate, and no room to move forward, and hooded figures appeared all around his car, some leering through the windows. They made no move to leave.

Derrick rolled down his window just a few inches, and let one of the residents approach him. Derrick took the crowbar from the glove box, and sat it on his lap, keeping it at the ready. But really, if it got violent, the smartest move would be to just put the pedal to the metal, no matter who was in his way.

“Man, where’d you learn how to drive? You almost ran him the fuck over!” the man yelled, peering through the opening in the window.

“Sorry, sorry. I just got a little scared. I’m not trying to hurt you, just trying to get home safely. You guys are making me nervous.”

The residents looked at each other, murmuring, until the one at the window spoke up again. “Yeah, whatever. Don’t try that shit again and we’ll be fine. Have you seen a girl that’s around five foot four around here? She’s Black, got curly hair, and really big eyes.”

“No, I can’t say I have . . .”

Were the residents trying to collect some sort of debt from her?

“Okay, well look. She’s been missing for a while now. We’re all her brothers and cousins, and we’re putting together a search effort for her.” Derrick tensed as the man brought his hand up to the top of the window, but all he did was drop a piece of paper into the car.

“If you see her, send us a message at this number, you hear?”

“Uh, okay. Will do.”

The man nodded at Derrick, and led the group of residents off to the sidewalk, where they continued walking down, presumably continuing their search for the missing girl.

Derrick sighed, and closed up the driver’s seat window again. After he had nearly had a driving-accident, his car had ended up blocking the entrance to the parking lot. The lot was empty of people again, and so was the entrance to the housing projects, so he gripped the cold gear selector and backed his car up into the parking spot in the corner once more.

Xavier came out another five minutes later. He ran over to Derrick’s car in a bizarre black leather outfit, unsuccessfully trying to keep a bag strap over his shoulder. His outfit bunched up and revealed way too much, as he bent down to pull the backseat car door open and climb in, slamming the door shut behind him. Xavier unzipped his large bag with a flourish and pulled out the pack of cash, tossing it onto the passenger seat in the front. “Here’s your money, boss. You can count it, but be quick. Hey, and here’s how it is. I’m gonna need you to drop me off at my girl’s place.”

Derrick frowned. “Weren’t you going to take the bus?”

“Yeah, but I’m running out of time! Come on, can’t you help me out? I just paid you eighteen thousand fucking dollars, man. You really not gonna give me a ride after all that?”

“Okay, fair enough. Just direct me to her place.”

#

Wind streamed through the small openings that Derrick had left in the windows to disperse the smell of Xavier’s cologne. It was finally time to get home. The familiar sight of the exit to Chinatown meant it really was home. Home was rest, home was some modicum of safety, home was peanut butter—

Derrick jerked awake, and the steering wheel jerked as well, swerving to barely miss a parked car on the side of the street. Home was peanut butter? He must have been really out of it. How did Xavier have enough energy to go running out of his house in a leather suit to go have sex with a girl? After the day’s events, Derrick only wanted to embrace his bed.

The one thing keeping him from sleep was the thirteen thousand dollars, sitting in the bag in his car. Derrick drove the speed limit. Rather than a fear of any cops, it was a hundred times more dangerous tonight to get into a crash.

If he ran into someone’s car, the money would be exposed, and possibly stolen, and he’d be helpless to stop the theft.

Thankfully, he was able to make it back to the garage without incident. The cool night air raised goosebumps on his neck as he jogged the final few blocks to Hack Alley, and locked the door behind him.

Derrick stacked a few boxes against the door for good measure, and went back into his room and locked the door, before opening the bag again.

The bills were still there. A few of them crumpled, but all thirteen thousand dollars were there. Then there was the money from Xavier’s down payment: thirty five hundred in total after he had given Maxine fifteen hundred up front for her services.

Derrick gave a whoop into the night before collapsing on his bed, still holding the bag of cash to his chest.