I begin peppering shots at the windshield of the black truck, watching it spiderweb, and the vehicle begins to slow down because the driver can’t see.
“Eleven o’clock,” Juice says, right as the SUV takes another hit from that direction.
Hot Rod doesn’t stop barreling down the road like a bat out of hell, and everyone who’s come out tonight for us is now hot on our tail.
And I don’t see this SUV outrunning any of them.
“Update,” Wallace commands in my ear and believe it or not, I forgot his ass was there for a second.
“Your boy that was shot looks to be in the clear because we’ve picked them all up,” I reply evenly.
“Rod will get you out of there.”
I don’t bother to mention it doesn’t look like it because what’s the point? I’m either dead here tonight listening to Wallace’s voice fill me with false promises, or my girl is going to get here, and De Leon is going to take her.
The latter isn’t going to happen.
“Incoming,” Juice announces, my attention going back to the road in front of us.
A line of cars is dead-stopped along the road, headlights aimed directly at us.
Hot Rod doesn’t slow down.
Juice doesn’t move.
And I don’t think I breathe.
I always thought I’d die in a rain of gunfire or be stabbed. I’d die as a brother of the Forsaken Crew, in the midst of chaos. Some real movie-looking shit that would be remembered forever.
I never thought I’d make it past thirty.
Never gave much attention to how many years I had left either.
Until I found Bay again.
Now, I’m going to be murdered with two Nameless assholes and Levi Wallace in my ear.
“It’s our baby girl,” Hot Rod extolls warmly, slowing the SUV down a bit. “And she brought an army.”
The closer we get, the more she comes straight into view.
A white tee that dips between her breasts, tucked into shredded black jeans. She props one hand on her hips, obviously expecting us and not appearing at all bothered by the scene.
Like a queen.
Men by the droves flank faithfully on each of her sides and behind her. AK-47s are drawn and pointed.
And, fuck me, my dick is getting hard.
“Nothing happens to her,” Wallace utters low and dangerously slow in my own personal moment. “If it does, you’ll never see her again.”
“That’s the thing,” I express easily, holding her tightly in my view. “No one can keep me and her apart. Not you. Not the war. Not even ourselves. We belong together. And I don’t give a fuck if she’s mad at me or not. Whether you are intimidated or not. She’s mine. And you can suck my dick before I’m ever letting her go. And the thing that I think kills you, Wallace…is that you know she’d die for me before she’d ever let me go, too.”
SIXTY-TWO
bay
Hot Rod haulsass as he stops the SUV in front of us, blocking Matteo’s boys from lining up shots.
