“And?”
“Jamir looked into him. Kam is just a street nigga that been hustling on his own long enough to be comfortable. He don’t make too much noise. No loud beefs. No weird ties. He’s legit.”
Big A’s eyes stayed on Kam. “Still don’t mean I like him.”
Before I could, a burst of gunfire exploded outside. It was so close that it could be heard over the deejay’s speakers.
Then came another round.
Then another.
Glass shattered somewhere near the front windows. People screamed as the music cut off mid-beat. Champagne flutes dropped and exploded across the floor. Bodies hit the ground. Chairs flipped. Somebody yelled, “Get down!” but by then people were already doing it.
I didn’t think. I just moved. The last place I had seen Ava was near the product tables, and I jumped over two women crouched by the bar, shoved past a man frozen in place, and ran straight toward where she had been. More shots tore through the front of the space. Bits of plaster shattered from a column. Another round hit the glass and made people scream all over again.
When I got to her, Kam was already there. He had Ava low to the ground behind one of the heavy display tables. His body was halfway over hers while he tried to shield her from anything coming through the front.
The sight of that nigga protecting what was mine was crippling, but I didn’t have time to react.
Ava looked over Kam’s shoulder the second she saw me. Fear was all over her, but she still assured me, “I’m okay!”
I nodded once to let her know I heard her. Then I turned and ran toward the front.
If these many shots were coming in, then this wasn’t random. It was organized.
Somebody had come there to kill as many people as they could.
By the time I hit the front entrance and pushed through the blown-open doorway, the cold air slapped me in the face along with the smell of gunpowder. Icon, Big A, and our security were already bussing back. The whole front of the block was lit up in flashes.
There had to be ten of them, maybe more. Some were on foot. Some were leaning out of cars. One dark SUV was double-parked crooked across the curb, blocking the lane. Another car had pulled up halfway on the sidewalk. Muzzles kept flashing from different angles, and the firepower was heavy enough that I knew immediately this wasn’t some sloppy shit.
These motherfuckas had come ready.
I ducked behind the concrete base of a street planter, pulled my gun, and started firing back. Shots cracked over my head so close I heard them whizzing by. Concrete chipped near my shoulder. Glass from the front windows kept raining down behind me. Big A was farther to my left near one of the parked cars, firing in controlled bursts. Icon was closer to the curb, crouched behind an SUV with two of our men. One of them rose up, fired three shots, and dropped right back down.
Then I saw three of our security on the ground.
They weren’t moving. One was half under a car with blood spreading dark beneath him. Another had dropped near the front steps with his head turned awkwardly. The third was by the valet stand, stretched out flat with his gun still in his hand.
That made my blood run cold.
I leaned out and fired again. One of the attackers jerked and went down near the back passenger side of the double-parked SUV. Another one spun and dropped beside a parking meter. But the shots kept coming.
That was when I realized some of the fire wasn’t just coming from street level. The shots kept raining down from somewhere higher too. I looked up just enough between bursts to catch movement on a rooftop across the street. Then another flash from farther down. They had shooters elevated, which meant they had planned this. This was meant to pin us down and kill us all.
I fired toward the roofline, forcing one of them to duck, then dropped lower behind the planter when a fresh spray of bullets chewed into the brick above me.
“Fuck!” I shifted position, ran bent low toward the next car, and slid behind it hard enough to bang my shin.
A shot punched through the passenger window and sprayed glass all over me.
I cursed and fired back under the car, then over the hood.
Right then, somebody dropped beside me. I looked over, ready to swing. But it was Kam. He was breathing hard, gun already up, eyes locked on the shooters like this was just another day. He leaned out and fired twice toward the roof, then twice more toward the dark sedan parked across the street.
We stayed down and fired in turns, trying to keep them from pressing closer. I saw another attacker stumble near the curb and fall after one of Kam’s shots. But for every man that dropped, more bullets kept coming. It felt like it would never stop.
Then I heard Icon yell, “Fall back!”
