He thought he was hidden but Dre made a mistake. He forgot blood always leaves a trail.
He was Ronnie’s son, something nobody knew. Ronnie kept that buried like it was gold. But when Stormi said Dre was Leon’s nephew. That opened the door. I traced the name, found Leon’s sister, and from there everything else unraveled like a bad lie. She went to the police and made trouble. Thinking they would protect her and her son when it took me less than 24 hours of being in that police station to learn everything about her. He wanted his nephew safe. He should’ve kept that information to himself. She wanted her son alive, but they both played a dangerous game. And now they led us straight to our quickest leverage.
And I wasn’t just going to knock. I was about to tear the whole door off the hinges.
“Sharon Willis. 470 Manning Lane.”
I repeated the name and address out loud as we turned the corner and pulled up to the single-family home.
The neighborhood was quiet. It was just past seven. Streetlights were already glowing. No kids or neighbors outside. Two cars sat in the driveway. One was unfamiliar, probably hers, but the other. Oh, I knew it too damn well. Black on black Range Rover, custom interior, red calipers, diamond stitched seats. I bought it. Paid cash and delivered it myself.
“That’s the ol’ girl car,” I said, jaw clenching.
Rich and Southside both caught it too, their eyes flicked to mine, then back to the house. No words were needed. We continued our mission as planned, hopping out the whip and moving, cutting around the side of the house to the back like muscle memory.
I’d already studied the blueprint the second I got the address. I knew where the entrances were, how many exits, where the windows were placed, and how to sweep it clean without waking the neighbors. This was chess, not checkers.
We moved through the kitchen quietly. No creaks in the floorboards, no talking. I had everything under control until I stepped into the living room and saw her.
“Mama?” The word shot out of me like a bullet.
She jumped, so did Sharron.
“Seth,” my mama said, standing slowly. “What are you doing here?”
I stared at her. My voice dropped low, but it still carried weight. “Better question, what are you doing here?”
She didn’t back down. She never did. She looked me straight in my eyes like she wasn’t standing in the middle of enemy territory.
“The killing has to stop, Seth.” She glanced toward Sharron, who sat shaking on the edge of the sofa like she’d just seen her last sunset.
“She can’t pay for her son’s mistakes. I know why you’re here.”
I blinked, but inside, I was fuming.
I could feel Rich and Southside behind me. They were alert and ready but confused as hell. I didn’t say a word. My mind was racing.
I was outside in the damn garden when I confirmed Sharron’s information. Mama was pruning her roses, humming like she always did when she was out there. I didn’t think she was even listening. And I damn sure didn’t think she’d act on it. She was supposed to be at home. Her car was parked. She was there when I left. So how the hell did she slip past my people? How did she beat me here? And more importantly, why?
I clenched my jaw, eyes never left hers.
“You shouldn’t be here, Mama.”
Her voice was calm, but her eyes were sharp.“And neither should you. Let this go, Seth. Enough blood has been spilled.”
I looked at Sharron with tears running down her face, hands shaking, whole body frozen like she already knew I wasn’t here to talk.
I turned back to my mama. “You risked your life to save hers?”
“No,” she said quietly. “I risked my life to save yours.”
That hit different but I didn’t respond. I couldn’t because the rage was too loud and the betrayal was too fresh. I didn’t know if I was more pissed at Dre… or at the woman who raised me.
I reached for my mama’s hand. She didn’t belong in that living room. Not with what was about to go down. This ain’t a conversation for her ears. I led her to the back room, shut the door behind us, and tried to breathe. I tried but every breath I took burned in my chest...
“Ma, I’m gonna have Southside take you home,” I said, jaw clenched tight, hands balling into fists behind my back. “I need you safe. I need you outta here.”
She looked at me like she was still seeing her baby boy. But that boy died a long time ago.
