The Heart of A Pendragon

Are We Doing Illegal Sh*t?

    "You did a really good job last night," Helen said as soon as I walked into work. I looked around to see everything looks exactly the way Meerlyn had left it. 

    "Thanks," 

    "Were you bored?" she asked handing me a box of USBs so I could put them on the display rack. 

    "Not exactly," fun isn't a word I would use when a massive snake s**t whipped me into a wall so that it can try to eat me.

    "Will, have something to do with that?" she asked. I turned to look at her wondering what she was implying. 

    "Will?" 

    "You're going to stand there and tell me that you don't find Will appealing?" 

    "Appealing? What is he, ice cream?" she laughed. 

    "He could be. A flavor specified for Lily Heart," I laughed shaking my head. "Anyway, I wanted to run something by you. Alen wants me to make you this offer. You are coming of age soon and he wants to know if you would like to permanently change your shift to the night shift as the manager," 

    "What? You want me to be the night shift manager? I'm being promoted?" she nodded. 

    "Only if you want. Ten-hour shift, more money, and full benefits," 

    "That sounds amazing," 

    "Okay, I'll let him know. You and he can hash it out tomorrow," 

    "Thank you so much," I beamed.

    "Don't mention it. Who is that little girl I saw you with yesterday?" 

    "Oh, there's this thing at Cyrilla. It's called the big sister project. She's my little sister I guess," she laughed. 

    "That is perfect. You can teach that little girl about responsibilities," 

    "Me?" I laughed looking over at her. 

    "Yeah, you are very responsible. Finished high school, you're on time to work. Most kids your age turn to the streets. They do things they shouldn't be doing. So, you. Responsible," I chuckled at her comment before going back to work. 

    I changed a few cracked screens and swapped a few blown-out speakers before tagging them with the receipts. The day went by fast and uneventful. Thank goodness for that. I waved at Helen when I made my way out. I pulled the straps to my backpack securing it to make sure I don't break anything in it. 

    The bikes were all parked in front of the clothing store across the street. A big part of me wants to walk in there and demand what the f**k is happening to me but the realistic part that is telling me that all of this has to be bullshit wants to run away and never look back. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see that it was a text message. One that put my two options on hold. 

    -Get here-

    -OMW- I replied. 

    I kept walking in the opposite direction I usually take to go back to Cyrilla. I turned into the alleyway and made my way down to where I keep it. The walk is always a peaceful one. I enjoy it mostly because once I get inside the car there is no slowing down. 

    It was funny to me when Helen said I was responsible because I didn't get into trouble like the other kids. The reason for that is because the cops would have to catch me. The first time I ran from the cops was when I was twelve. 

    I had been placed in a foster home with a family that really likes cars. Their son is two years older than I am. At the time, he was fourteen and already knew the ins and outs of most engines. It was the only place I stayed in for longer than six months. I probably would have stayed longer if my foster dad hadn't gotten arrested and charged with possession of narcotics. 

    Cameron and I stay in touch. He bought me my first phone. I used his first car to buy his engine upgrade and my own car. Five years later, nineteen-year-old Cameron Malory owns a luxury sales and repair parlor where he modifies some of the most beautiful works of art the streets have to offer. I'm really proud of him.

    My personal masterpiece sits for days under a gray tarp in the private parking space of an old abandoned warehouse. Camaros have been my weakness from the moment I watched Cameron's mom pull up in a pink pearl ZL1 the first time she picked me up from school. Ana Malory loves Camaros so much she named her son Cameron because the name was so similar. Cam's dad didn't let her name him Camaro. I pulled the tarp back before popping the trunk to stuff it inside the small bag it goes in. 

    I call him Constantine. Because no other name is worthy of him. The shimmering silver ice paint catches the attention of anyone who looks in its direction. They all look whether they like it or not. The aggressive purr makes sure of that. The Exorcist was created for one purpose and that is to take out the demon. 

    Cameron, being the ass that he is doesn't share the love of the Camaro the way his mother does. In fact, he's made it his life's purpose to make sure she knew that. When he finally saved up enough money to buy his own car, he went straight for the demon without looking at anything else. His car is well known on these streets. It's not every day that you see a nineteen-year-old kid in a suit driving around in a ninety thousand dollar car. 

    Constantine is known. Not as well as Lilith which is what he named his car. Mostly because I can't exactly park my car in front of my foster homes or at the front gate of Cyrilla. Too many unwanted questions would be brought up and they would go unanswered. 

    "Quite the ride," I jumped at the sound of her voice. I hadn't met this one yet. "I have one like this back home. She's yellow," 

    "Iconic," I answered shutting the trunk. 

    "I'm Talia, by the way. I heard you've briefly met some of the others," I nodded turning to look at her. 

    Talia looks like the kind of girl that likes to get into trouble. She's tall, curvy in all the right places, her chocolate brown hair is really short and styled in a feminine version of a frohawk. Snake bites on her lips, double piercing on her right eyebrow, several hoops in her ears, I can make out the ones on her n*****s through her thin fitted crop top. 

    "Lily," I smiled at her. 

    "I know. Listen, I'm supposed to be watching you. I really don't feel like running around the city to try and keep up with whatever the f**k it is you're gonna do. Mind if I ride with you?" I looked around and shrugged. 

    "I guess not," 

    "Cool," she said pointing at Constantine. 

    I unlocked the car and went around to climb in. She got into the passenger seat, scooted the chair back before she took her black combat boots off and propped her feet on the dashboard. I nodded not minding in the slightest. At least she took her boots off. I started the car, the sound of it brought a smile to her face. 

    Talia didn't look at me as I drove out of the alley. At some point, she pulled out a PSP from god knows where and started playing. Not the approach the others took and for some reason, I like that she's blunt. It means she's won't sugar coat anything I ask her. In fact, she might not even answer me at all. 

    "Are we doing illegal s**t?" she asked when I reached the highway. 

    "Yeah," I answered truthfully. She grinned. 

    "Nice, you were starting to bore me. I had my doubt," 

I laughed. "Doubts?" 

    "Your dad was big on contraband in his day. Your mom tried to take over the world. It would be a shame if Lily Pendragon didn't leave her mark on this world before she went home,"