Page 132 of Addicted

“Five million,” Wes said. “Cash. You got two days, nigga.”

Five million. It was a lot of money, but I had it. And I’d pay ten times that to get Indie back.

“You’ll get it,” I said.

“Good,” Wes said. “And Stone? Don’t try no funny shit. Don’t send nobody to follow me. Don’t try to track me. Because if I eventhinkyou playing games, I’ma start sending you pieces of yo’ girl. Starting with her fingers.”

My blood ran cold.

“You touch her—”

“TWO DAYS, mothafucka,” Wes said, cutting me off again. “I’ll tell you where to bring it.”

Then he hung up.

I stared at my phone, my hand shaking with rage.

Kenzo put a hand on my shoulder.

“We gon’ get her back,” he said quietly.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t respond. All I could think about was Wes’s threat. About him cutting off Indie’s fingers. Hurting her, hurting our baby. I felt like I was losing my mind. Like I was spiraling out of control, and there wasn’t shit I could do to stop it.

My phone rang again. This time it was Antoine.

“Boss,” he said when I answered. “We got something.”

“Talk,” I said.

“One of our guys got info from that stripper Wes be fuckin’ with at Chrome,” Antoine said. “Pillow talking ass nigga got a spot off MLK. Could be where they at.”

My heart started pounding. “Send me the address,” I said.

“Already done.”

I hung up and looked at Kenzo. “We got a location,” I told him.

Kenzo nodded. “Let’s move.”

***

The house was in a rundown neighborhood, the kind of place where people minded their own business and didn’t ask questions. The house itself was a piece of shit. Boarded-up windows, peeling paint, overgrown yard.

There were two niggas posted outside. Armed.

I looked at Kenzo, Antoine, and Deacon. We wereall wearing bulletproof vests under our jackets. All armed with multiple weapons.

“We go in fast,” I said. “Take out anybody in our way. Find Indie. Get her out. Remember, I want this nigga Wes alive.”

They nodded.

We parked down the street, hopped out, and moved toward the house. The two guards saw us coming and reached for their guns, but we were faster.

I fired first, hitting one of them square in the forehead. He dropped like a sack of bricks. Kenzo took out the second one with a clean headshot.

We didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down. We kicked in the front door and rushed inside. Gunfire erupted immediately. Bullets flew past my head, embedding in the walls. I fired back, hitting one of the shooters in the chest. He went down.

Antoine and Deacon were on my left, taking out two more. Then I saw Javion. The nigga who’d betrayed me. Who’d shot Troy and taken Indie.