Landfill

"I'm sorry, miss, but you cannot deposit such a large amount at one time."

The banker teller batted her eyes and frowned at me. Nausea was still apparent and was making me fatigued. I wanted to ring this bitch's neck.

"Please," I muttered for the billionth time. "It's an emergency, I need--"

"You have to have a hold on your account if--"

"You already explained!" I exploded causing people to look. "I'm begging, I need to withdrawal this money right away."

"You can write a check, miss. I can't outright give you $100,000 in cash at one time."

"Why not?" I growled sarcastically, "You do it for bank robbers, amiright? If I had a gun would it make a goddamn difference? At least I'm not pointing a gun at you."

People gasped and I rolled my eyes. The teller sighed, "Let me talk to my manager... I'll see what I can do."

I folded my arms on the counter and dropped my head on them. Brendon stood beside me, patting my back. "I have 25,000 at my apartment, Nikki. I'll give it to you and you can pay me back."

I looked at him, my head still resting on my arms; "I can't even get 10,000 out, Brendon. Will Shane take an IOU for my life?"

He smiled sadly, "I'm sorry."

"Ain't your fault."

"Does Ryan have any cash lying around?"

Brendon shook his head, but stopped midway, smiling, "His dad's locker," he spoke excitedly, "I have the key to his storage spot."

I shot my head up and smiled, "Thank God."

"Ryan's got a more than enough."

Relief washed over me now; the teller returned, frowning still; "I'm sorry, Ms. Navarro."

I shook my head, "Gimme the most you can withdrawal and I'll go."

"5,000 is it." She replied.

"I'll take it, please and thank you."


As the afternoon drawn to evening, the air grew colder. I was still so sick as so nervous; Brendon drove us to the storage facility as quickly as he could. He had Ryan's extra keys, the ones with this keychain I had bought him; it was a Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band badge. I ran my thumb over the clear plastic covering, thinking of him. No matter how rotten he had been towards me, there would always be a place in my heart for him.

I could only think of him and his safety. I thought about his more so than my own. I cared so much about him, and I love him so, and I don't think I'd ever not love him.

All thoughts paused when we got to the familiar facility; Brendon parked and exhaled, "You remember?"

I nodded, "Yeah."

We got out and I followed him; I noticed he walked a little limped on his left side. I remembered that he had gotten shot; "Oh, shit, Brendon."

"What?" He stopped.

"How's your leg?" I asked.

He smiled, chuckling, "I'm fine. The bullet went through the skin of my knee vertically," he motioned with his hand, "Broke skin but no bones."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really, only stings. Skin it just fucked, y'know? The kneecap was shaved."

"Oh." Was my reply. "Sorry."

"I'm fine." He said again. "No worries."

"What happened?" I asked as we continued.

"Shane's rival shot up our spot. I was one of the lucky ones... Spencer took the drugs and money off me and took off. Saved me from a sentence."

I smiled grimly. "You won't be doing this forever, will you?"

He shook his head, "No. Not forever. I'm saving up to love comfortably and travel the world." He laughed lamely, "That's what I wanna do. Marry Sarah and leave Summerlin for good."

I patted his back, "I hope you get it."

"Thanks, Nikki."

We were silent the next few steps to the storage space. I took in a deep breath as we stopped in front of it; I unlocked the door, lifting it, and went into the dark space. Brendon flipped the light; Ryan's dad's stuff was still as I had remembered it, only his locker from our shared apartment was smack dab in the middle of the room. "Which key?" I asked Brendon.

"The one painted red."

Ryan had color coated his keys with Sarah's nail polishes, Brendon explained. I plucked the key and went toward the locker, kneeling and shoving the key into the lock. It didn't take more than a second to unlock and pull the lock off. Inhaling another deep breath, I opened the locker; in the back of my head, I was sure there'd be nothing in there. But, to my relief, there was a lot of fuckin' money inside; "Holy shit." I exhaled the deep breath.

Brendon stepped over, kneeling slowly, "The green means hundreds, purples are 10 thousand." He instructed, "Ry organized it all."

The bundles of money were wrapped with unmarked black currency straps. They had a thin line of colored paper over the tips of them; green and purple all stacked in no order. I began to grab a bunch of purples, listening to Brendon count them for me; "1, 2, 3, 4..."

I shoved them into the beach bag I carried to carry them. I needed 70,000; Brendon had loan me 25, and I had 5 myself. It didn't take long to get the load; it was so damn heavy as I stood and hiked it onto my shoulder.

"Let me." Brendon offered.

"You're sure?"

He gave a nod.

I handed it to him, and I locked Ryan's locker back up. We began to head out, I shut the storage door, locking it up and following out. We got to the car, Brendon zipped up the bag and put it in the backseat.

"Are you nervous?" He asked me.

I shrugged, "I'm not sure. I feel relieved more than anything."

Brendon had no reply; he started the car and drove off.


Brendon pulled up at this undesirable area, parking across the street from a dark warehouse. It was something out of a movie, I swore this may've been a prank. I looked to Brendon, who looked back at me with a slight frown.

"Are you ready, Nick?"

I have a small nod. Brendon grabbed the bag and climbed out with me. I followed him, following every step across the street. He leaned on his right leg once we got towards a side door; it was boarded up, I thought that maybe Brendon brought me to the wrong place.

He knocked on it three times; as he did so my phone vibrated in my pocket, but I didn't reach for it. I exhaled through my nose, hearing heavy foot steps and then a rumble of a voice, "Who is it?"

"B-U." Brendon replied.

"The flock?"

Brendon looked down at me, "Ryan's girl."

My eyes widened and I was suddenly scared gutless. I was ready to turn and run, but my feet stayed planted. The door crept open, a black male with dreads and a hard look to his face appeared. His eyes scanned down toward me; he was tall and bore down at me; "We've been expecting you."