I just stepped off the jet, the hum of the engines still ringing in my ears.
Deuce stayed behind in Houston with Malani and the baby—Tre. They were getting discharged tomorrow. I came back early to get everything set up for my boy and his family. I wanted their transition back home to be smooth for them. I was going to go to his crib early in the morning, and set everything up that he hadn’t had a chance to put together yet.
Seeing Tre earlier had done something to me, though.
I ain’t say it out loud, but holding Deuce baby these past days, it softened something I thought was long dead. Baby Dank too… that boy had my heart in a chokehold. The way he wrapped his fingers around mine, like he trusted the world already. Like he knew the bond that I had with his father before he was ever born.
Made me wonder if I’d ever get that.
A family.
Then reality slapped me back quick.
Love wasn’t in my cards. I learned that lesson the hard way. Got played once, and that was enough to turn a man cold forever. Feelings made you sloppy. Sloppy got you buried.
I pulled into my driveway just before midnight. The neighborhood was quiet, lights low, everything looking regular enough to lull you into comfort. I stepped out the car, keys still in my hand, mind already on my next move—
That’s when the van slid up.
Black. No plates.
All the doors flew open at once.
I didn’t even reach for my strap. I didn’t have time to process, the shit happened so fast.
They rushed me fast—boots, fists, metal. One cracked me in the ribs, another clipped my jaw. I tasted blood but didn’t make a sound as I fought back. Didn’t beg. I knew better. A bag came down over my head, thick and suffocating, and my body got tossed into the van like cargo.
Doors slammed.
Engine peeled off.
I didn’t fight.
There was no point. I had been caught slipping.
This life always came back to collect. I just didn’t know who sent the bill.
They tied my hands tight, taped my mouth. I counted turns, bumps, time—but after a while, all that blurred together. Could’ve been an hour. Could’ve been three. When the van finally stopped, they dragged me out, boots scraping concrete.
The smell hit first.
Oil. Rust. Old blood.
They had brought me to an old rundown abandoned warehouse.
They strapped me to a chair, tight enough that my shoulders burned. Then they stepped back.
Silence.
A figure moved out the darkness.
I knew that walk.
My chest tightened.
Sav.
My baby brother.
