I looked over to see him halfway behind a truck, reloading fast. “Ride out! It’s too many of them!”
He was right; standing out there trying to win a street war, where we were outnumbered, with women, civilians, and family still inside the event would’ve been suicide. The job now was getting our people out before these niggas pushed in farther or came through the back.
I fired one more round toward the SUV, then broke from cover and ran back toward the event space with Kam moving beside me. Big A and two of the surviving security followed right behind us.
Inside was chaos. Women were crying. Tables were overturned. Hair bundles and wigs were all over the floor. People were crouched low, hiding behind anything heavy enough to stop a bullet.
“Everybody out the back!” Icon roared as he came in behind us. “Move now!”
That snapped people into motion. Security started directing everybody toward the rear exit while Big A helped clear a path. I turned fast, looking around for Ava.
I didn’t see her, Rhythm, or Zahra.
As I started to panic, Kam came up beside me and said, “I told Ava to leave. The girls went out the back before I came outside.”
I nodded once. “Good looking.”
Another burst of shots hit the front of the building, closer now. People screamed again and pushed harder toward the rear. I fell in behind the last group and moved through the kitchen corridor, out the back door, and into the lot where our cars were parked.
We all jumped into whatever car was closest. Doors slammed. Engines roared. Tires spit gravel. Then we pulled off out the back like hell itself was behind us.
I didn’t even realize Kam had ended up in the truck with us until we were already flying through traffic.
My ears were still ringing from all that gunfire. I had spent the first few seconds of that ride looking out the back window, trying to see if anybody was on our ass, while Icon drove like he was trying to tear a path through the city.
He was driving with precision. He weaved through traffic, blowing yellow lights, cussing under his breath every time some slow dumbass drifted into our lane. The engine kept growling every time he punched the gas.
Then Big A turned around in his seat so fast the movement caught my attention. His gun was up and aimed behind him. I thought he was aiming out of the back window, until I realized Kam was sitting beside me.
“Who the fuck are you?!” Big A barked. “Did you set us up?!”
Kam, to his credit, didn’t panic. He sat in the back with his hands where everybody could see them, breathing hard but not shaking, looking from the barrel of Big A’s gun to the rest of us like he knew one wrong word could get his brains blown into the upholstery.
“The fuck?No.”
Big A pressed harder. “Then why we get hit when your random ass came around?”
“I helped y’all get out.”
“That don’t mean shit! Did you line this shit up?! Who you working with?!”
Kam looked at me for half a second, then back at Big A. “If I set you up, why would I be outside shooting back with you? Why would I still be in the line of fire? I could have dipped and you niggas would have never saw me again. Why would I be in the car with you niggas?”
Big A kept the gun right where it was. “Because maybe you’re trying too hard not to look involved.”
Kam’s jaw tightened, but he kept it cool. “The men in those cars were foreigners.”
Icon shifted in his seat then and finally said, “Chill. That was an organized attack. There were shooters on foot, in cars, and on roofs. That wasn’t some setup this nigga could pull off.”
Big A kept staring at Kam.
“And unless Kam was willing to go against a big crew just to look less suspicious, he’s not involved,” Icon added.
Big A finally lowered the gun, but he didn’t put it away. He kept it in his hand while turning back around in his seat. “I’m still watching yo’ swole ass.”
Icon gripped the wheel tighter, eyes on the road, and said what all of us were thinking. “Who the fuck just tried to kill us?”
18
