2. Damian
T he warehouse had a cold, hollow feeling to it, but I didn’t mind. It was quiet, isolated—a place where I could think and make my next move. Sitting at a scratched-up metal table, I focused on breaking down the blunt I was rolling. The repetitive motion of my fingers calmed the noise in my head.
Across from me, Kita sat sipping her water, her body tense but trying to look relaxed. She’d been quieter than usual, and I didn’t know if it was the pregnancy or just her nerves. Either way, I didn’t give a fuck. My mind was on bigger things.
Marco was supposed to meet me here. He’d assured me everything was in place and that shipments from Damier were a done deal. I knew I was playing a dangerous game, but I needed that supply line. If Marco wanted to stay in my good graces, he’d follow through.
“Relax,” I told Kita, not looking up from my blunt.
“I am relaxed,” she said, her voice clipped.
I glanced at her and smirked. “You should be. You’re with the nigga who’s about to take everything from his big brother.”
But even as I said it, my stomach turned. The voice in my head laughed.
You think this is going to work? Damier’s always two steps ahead, and you know it. He is going to know you are behind Marco.
I shook the thought away, licking the edge of the blunt to seal it. I was done letting my brother live rent-free in my head.
As I sat back and lit the blunt, the distant creak of the warehouse door opening pulled my attention. I expected Marco’s usual cocky stride to come through, but instead, I heard more footsteps than I should’ve.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up, and I felt the familiar buzz of paranoia creeping in. I stayed seated, though, pretending I didn’t feel the shift in the air.
The footsteps got closer, and before I could even turn my head, an arm wrapped around my neck, yanking me backward.
“Yeah,” a voice hissed in my ear, low and venomous. “I’ve been waiting to do this to you, pussy.”
Damier.
My head flared with rage. His grip on my neck was tight, choking off my air as I clawed at his arm. My blunt dropped to the floor, forgotten in the chaos.
“Let me go, nigga!” I roared, my voice strangled as I thrashed against him.
“Shut the fuck up,” Damier spat, dragging me backward until I fell from the chair onto the cold concrete.
Before I could gather my bearings, his fist connected with my face, the force of the punch snapping my head to the side. Pain exploded across my jaw, but I barely felt it through the red haze of anger.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Hocus grab Kita, slapping handcuffs on her wrists as she screamed in protest. The sound was muffled a moment later by the tape he slapped over her mouth.
“Kita!” I tried to yell, but Damier’s fist silenced me again.
He didn’t stop. Punch after punch rained down, each one harder than the last. Blood filled my mouth, and I could feel my face swelling, but I refused to cry out. I refused to give him the satisfaction.
“This what you wanted?” he growled, his voice full of venom as he hit me again. “You thought you could run? Hide? Betray me and get away with it?”
The pain was distant now, my body starting to shut down. My vision blurred. The warehouse lights above me were spinning.
“You’re a bitch,” he hissed, leaning close to my face. “And now, you’re gonna pay for everything.”
I tried to speak, to spit some insult at him, but my voice was gone. My body gave out, the darkness swallowing me whole.
$$$$$
When I came to, the air smelled like blood and dust. My vision was blurry from blood, but I could hear voices around me, sharp and loud. My head throbbed, and every breath sent a spike of pain through my ribs.
“Wake his ass all the way up,” I heard Damier say, his tone ice-cold.
A splash of cold water hit my face, shocking me fully awake. I blinked rapidly, my surroundings coming into focus. I was still in the warehouse, now slumped against the wall. Hocus stood over me, a water bottle in his hand, while King leaned casually against the table, his arms crossed. Marco was nowhere in sight, but I knew he had set me up.
Damier crouched in front of me, his face expressionless but his eyes burning with fury. “Thought I wouldn’t find you?”
I spat blood onto the floor while glaring up at him. “Fuck you,” I muttered, my voice hoarse.
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Still wanna talk shit, I see.”
Kita whimpered from the corner of the room, her wrists bound and her mouth taped shut. Her eyes were wide with fear, darting between Damier and me.
“This your bitch now, my nigga?” Damier said, jerking his head toward her. “This pillhead, lying bitch? This bitch ran to you and tried to sic her brother on me.”
I clenched my fists, my body trembling with rage. “Leave her out of this. She’s pregnant,” I growled.
“You think I give a fuck?” he snapped, his voice rising. “She’s just as guilty as you are. Running, lying, trying to set me up. You two deserve each other but in hell.”
He stood abruptly, looking down at me like I was nothing. “You’re not my brother anymore,” he said, his voice cold. “You’re just another nigga I had to deal with.”
I felt the weight of his words, the finality of them. But as he turned to walk away, I forced myself to speak. “You’ll regret this. I’m not the only one out to get you. Once I die, things will come up missing in your life,” I said, my voice shaky but defiant.
He paused, glancing over his shoulder. “No, my nigga. The only regret I have is not handling you sooner. I’m going outside. Get they bitch asses ready for this flight.”
“A flight?” I frowned.
“Yeah, I gotta handle you in front of family. Thank ya mother.” He chuckled, trying to be sarcastic.
I stared at him, my mind racing as the meaning of his words sank in. A flight. He wasn’t just planning to handle me here, in the shadows of some warehouse. He was taking me back—to the family, to the estate, to where it all began.
For a moment, I felt something twist in my chest. Fear? No. Rage. Pure, unfiltered rage. He wanted to humiliate me, to parade me in front of the family like some kind of failure.
“You think dragging me back is going to fix shit? Kill me now!” I spat, my voice raw and full of venom.
Damier turned fully, his calm exterior cracking just slightly as a dark smirk curled on his lips. “Fix it?” he repeated, his tone mocking. “Nah. This isn’t about fixing shit, dummy. This is about ending it.”
He turned back to Hocus and King, giving them a nod. “Get him cleaned up enough to fly. This bitch, too. I don’t want blood on my leather seats.”
King chuckled, his low, gravelly voice filling the room. “Boy, this is gonna be one hell of a family reunion.”
I clenched my fists, my blood boiling as Hocus grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. My head throbbed, my vision still swimming from the punches, but I refused to let them see weakness.
As they hauled me toward the exit, Kita whimpered again, her wide eyes locking on mine. I wanted to comfort her, to say something, but what could I say? I’d brought her into this mess, and now I didn’t even know how to get us out.
Damier stayed behind, his back to us as we were dragged away. His presence loomed large, even in silence, and for the first time in years, I felt small.
But as the cold night air hit my face and we were shoved into the back of a blacked-out SUV, one thought burned brighter than the rest:
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Damier thought he’d won, thought he had everything under control. But he didn’t know me as well as he thought he did. He’d regret the day he decided to bring me back to face the family.