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~𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓, 𝒊𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈. ~      
                    

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑬𝒄𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒔.

*
Dylan absently watched as the sunlight streamed through the glass doors. Curled on one of the sofas, he held his phone tightly. Like the way the earth revolved around the sun, he had revolved around his phone the past few days, and he was still no closer to getting a reply than he had been on the 26th of November.

Sighing, he got up and shuffled towards the kitchen to get another cup of juice. Days had passed since he last received any notification from the rental agency and he was getting frustrated.

He had spent the last few days in and out of clubs; yesterday was the worst as he had woken up with a splitting headache and bloodshot eyes this morning. He glanced at the clock which read noon then sighed again.

After pouring himself a full glass of juice, he walked to the refrigerator to get a pack of bagels. Suddenly, his phone dinged with a notification breaking the silence of his home. He paused with his hand on the refrigerator. Could it be—?

Not waiting to finish the thought, he shut the fridge with a loud bang and hastily dropped his cup on the counter, then dashed to his sofa and grabbed his phone.

Rapidly, he unlocked it and immediately tapped on the message. The corner of his lips tugged up in a smile as he read it.

Private number: We are glad to tell you that your price can be discussed now. We will be sending you the location where you will drop off the money.

Stunned, Dylan laughed at the weird message. Were they undercover agents or spies?  Trying his best not to laugh, he typed his next words.

Dylan: I could easily just transfer the money. What's with the hassle?

Private number: It's our agency's rules. We have never deterred from it. Simply accept the address and drop it.

Dylan: $20,000 right? How about $30,000 just to avoid the drop-off?

He waited as seconds ticked, sure they won't refuse the offer. Seconds turned to minutes, and sweat began dripping down his neck. Why wasn't he getting a reply? Nervous, he began to pace and cursed himself for not agreeing instantly. Now, any alternative he was going to take it.

Thirty minutes passed before he got a reply. He knew because he had been counting.

Private number: It will be such a hurtful loss to lose a client so generous as you. But, alas! It must happen, for we refuse to accept any transactions.

Dylan: There will be no losing as I'm willing to drop it off anywhere. Just give me the address and I'll be there in an hour.

Dylan held his breath waiting for the reply. He sincerely hoped they agreed. December will begin tomorrow which meant five days had been used out of the time his mother had given him.

The sweet sound of the notification filled his ears and he grinned when he read the address. Quickly, he replied then dropped his phone to go get ready.

Moments later, he was all dressed up in a grey T-shirt and blue jeans. One he had paired with a channel black jacket and black sneakers on his way to the location given to him. Griffin had come in handy again as he knew the place.