Unholy Conspiracy: A Short Story

RE: Unholy Conspiracy (Quix and Xana)
"Thanks." Jeffrey nodded at the owner, who'd avoid getting too close to the young when he'd placed their coffee's down, and subsequently hovered, obviously interested in what such a diverse couple could be discussing in his cafe. Though, his name was well-known, the Journalist's face was not so much so, and he could see the man attempting to place where he might recognise him from, before Jeff's unwavering gaze sent him scurrying and he returned his focus to Aisha. She still hadn't spoken, and the man felt the frustration that he'd wasted his time beginning to build, readying himself to leave, as her hand dipped into her pocket, and he laid eyes on the bag contained between trembling fingers.

For a moment, he thought she was going to drop it, but somehow she managed to maintain her grip. A definite junkie, the drugs had obviously gotten to her hook, line and sinker, and the Journalist scoffed half his beverage in one gulp, and flexed his legs, preparing to stand. However, there was a sincerity to her tone, when she finally spoke, that caused him to pause and listen to her faltering speech. Father Thorne. Pay us in drugs. Buy our bodies with a Dimebag," …show more content…
"That a Father Thorne, is what? Buying girls like you? Swapping drugs for sex?" Jeffrey couldn't hold back the internal thought that junkie whores weren't exactly an attractive option for any man, if they had a choice, and raised a sceptical brow. Even the best Investigative Journalist in the City was unaware of the 'Safe-House' in Woodrow Street, so secret was it, although her words rang a faint bell in his mind, and he found himself caught between curiosity, disbelief, and