032 POV saves the drug deal 935

I don't know why, but I take a step so that my body shields the youth from the man in the car even more than it already was. 

'What the hell are you doing? You're in my line of sight, move to your left so I can get a clean shot on him.' The man says through the earphone in my ear.

But I don't move out of the way. It's not a conscious decision to protect him, there's something innate, something within me that refuses to allow this kid to be shot, despite him holding a knife to my throat. 

'Give me your money or I'll slit your throat.' The teen seethes at me. If only he knew that all I had to do was take a sudden step to the left and he'd be dead.

'I haven't got any money on me.' I say.

'Bullshit, where's it at?' The kid says, and starts to rifle through my pockets. I make no effort to stop him.

'Get out of the way!' The man yells into my ear, but I don't move.

In a moment the kid has fished through all my pockets and the only item of value he's found is my cell phone.  

'Im'a take this on account of you wastin' my time.' He spits at me and yanks the earphone out of my ear as he pockets the cell. 

He then lowers the knife from my throat and says, 'Get the fuck outta here 'for I change my mind and carve you up.'

I know that the moment I turn around and walk back to the car the man is going to shoot this kid. That's not something I can let happen. Inexplicably, an exert from a business studies seminar springs to mind. I find myself saying to the teen, 'Truth is, I'm not buying for myself. I'm buying for someone else. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them. I've come to hate your type, but this is strictly business, and in a business transaction you put all prejudices aside and focus on profiting from the exchange. You can take my cell if you want, but if you do, the person I work for will come after you, and you need to believe me when I say, he is not someone you want to be on the wrong side of. The alternative option is you give me back my phone, get a G-pack of H and have it here, ready for me to buy in thirty minutes and you make as much profit in one transaction as you would slinging cane all night.'

The kid's automatic reaction to being threatened like this is similar to all alpha males I've ever encountered, fight fire with fire. He steps up so his face is less than an inch from mine. I can smell the rotten stench of cigarette smoke festering in a mouth that probably hasn't come into contact with a toothbrush and toothpaste for weeks. He stares into my eyes, I do my best not to blink, which is very hard given just how nervous I am. 

'You really wanna get cut, don't you lady?' He says.

I ignore his threat and continue with the line of thought from the business seminar, 'As a kicker, if my client likes your product, they'll want more, at least a G-pack a week. Is your product good?' Always end with a call to action question when negotiating a business deal.

'It's the shit.' The kid says. 

'Prove it. Give me my phone and meet me back here in thirty minutes with a G-pack.' 

The kid chews on this a beat before saying, 'If you ain't here in thirty, I'm'a find you, and you're gonna get cut.' 

I extend my hand, palm face up. He takes my cell from his pocket and gives it back to me. 

'Thirty minutes.' I confirm. With that I turn slowly and put the earphone back in my ear and walk away. The call is still connected with the man. When I'm out of earshot of the teens I ask, 'Did you hear all that?' 

'Most.' He says. 'You've got some balls. Well done.'

As I walk to the car my cell chimes with an iMessage from Lucy that reads: Hey mom! We just started our descent to land. I'm so excited I haven't slept at all! Can't want to see you.

'What are you doing on your phone?' The man snaps in my ear. 'If you text anyone I'll drop you where you stand.'

I slip my cell into my pocket without replying to Lucy. She'll be at the airport in about thirty minutes, but if I get back in the car with the man, there's no way I'll be there to pick her up. My mind starts racing, how the hell can I get away from him?

I look to my left, down a side alley that I'm walking past. Do I risk making a run for it? I'll have to cover about twenty yards before I'm out of the man's line of sight. Could he really shoot me from this distance? Is he really that accurate?

My stomach floods with butterflies as I feel my legs getting ready to run.

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