Chapter 47
By the time we got the location, I’d stopped feeling anything. I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t even thinking. I was just focused.
Prime pulled up the satellite view on the hood of Seth’s car.
We were parked a block away from the warehouse, one of the old storage places used by the railroad that Emancipation was renovating or tearing down.
This part of town was dark. The streetlights were out, the town-installed cameras broken or blacked out.
This was the perfect spot for the kind of shit Trell was into.
“This the place,” Prime confirmed. “Thermal picked up two men on the top floor, three on the main floor. One in the back room. No movement on the east side.”
His tone was clipped, professional, but I could hear the tension underneath. All of them felt it.
I didn’t say a word.
Seth stepped up beside me. “Bruh… you good?”
“I’m fine.”
He stared at me a long second. “That’s the problem. You too fine.”
Ajani swore under his breath. “Man, Seth, don’t start. We need him cold for this.”
Cold wasn’t the word. I felt like ice. Farrah was in that building. Anyone between me and her needed to die.
I checked my weapons—two Glocks, silencer, knife at my calf, spare clip tucked in my vest. Seth mirrored me. Braeden did too. Prime loaded a long gun. Ajani slid on night-vision goggles like he was born for this.
“Alright,” I said quietly. “We move in silence till we can’t. We hit the north entrance—Seth, Luca, and Brae with me. Prime, Cardo, and Ajani take the roof access. On my signal, we collapse inward.”
Seth nodded. “We get her out first.”
I clenched my jaw. “If she’s hurt…”
He put a hand on my shoulder. “Khi. We’ll handle it.”
I didn’t answer. Because there wasn’t going to be anything left to handle once I got to Trell. We moved, quick, dark figures slicing across the empty side lot in Emancipation’s starry light. The warehouse loomed above us, big, hollow, one of the ones the town was trying to save.
I could feel her inside it. I don’t know how, but I did.
The north door was stuck shut until Seth put a shoulder into it.
It groaned like a dying animal before giving way.
We slipped in. It was dark and dusty. I spotted rows of old crates.
The air smelled like mildew and gasoline. Somewhere above, I heard footsteps.
Seth whispered, “Two on the landing.”
I held up three fingers. Braeden nodded. On three, I swung around the corner, silent, fluid, gun raised. There were two guards. One of them was turning toward us.
He was too slow.
I fired two shots. Two bodies dropped.
Seth exhaled softly. “You ain’t lost your touch.”
I smirked at him. “Never.”
We moved again. And I heard a muffled sound, a voice I’d know anywhere.
Farrah.
The plan went out the window. I didn’t wait for a fucking signal. I didn’t wait for silence. I didn’t wait for anything. I just moved.
“This nigga—”
Seth cursed under his breath and followed. Braeden, too. We cut through a hallway littered with debris, past rusted lockers and a busted vending machine. Finally, we saw a heavy steel door and heard a man’s voice behind it. It was arrogant, angry, agitated.
It had to be Trell’s.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ma make it good for you.”
Seth shook his head, mouthing, “Wait; the plan—”
Fuck that plan. It didn’t exist. Not anymore. I lifted my foot and kicked the door in. It slammed against the wall so hard dust rained down from the ceiling. My world stopped. Farrah was tied to a chair, wrists bound, face bruised, eyes wild. Trell stood over her like he owned her.
When he saw me, something dark and satisfied twisted across his face.
“Well, here he go. The golden boy,” he said, smiling slow.
I didn’t hear anything after that. Not Seth yelling behind me. Not Trell’s men shouting. Not the gunfire erupting in the hall. All I saw was her. Her eyes locked onto mine.
“Khi,” she mouthed.
That was it. I fired at the first man to move. Then the second. Luca ended the third before he even lifted his gun.
Trell didn’t run. He just smiled.
“You made it. She said you would,” he said.
I raised my gun and stepped toward him. “Untie her.”
He chuckled. “Or what?”
I shot him in the leg.
He collapsed with a shout, gripping his thigh. “Ugh! Fuck!”
I shrugged. “You asked.”
Seth moved around me and started cutting Farrah’s ties. She whimpered when he touched her wrists—she’d been tied too long. She looked at me while Seth worked. Always at me.
Trell pushed himself up onto one elbow, smearing blood across the floor. I let Luca take over the job of making sure he stayed in place. I had to get close to her.
“You good, Little Thug?”
She nodded, but tears filled her eyes. “Mekhi…”
I knelt beside her, cupping her face gently, barely touching her. I loved the feel of her skin, warm and real and here with me.
“I got you,” I whispered. “I’m right here.”
Her breath shook. “I knew you’d come.”
“Always.”
She closed her eyes, let that wash over her.
Behind us, Trell laughed, a high-pitched, crazy sound.
I stood slowly, the gun still in my hand.
“Stand up,” I ordered.
Trell scoffed. “I ain’t standing on shit.”
“Then die on the floor.”
He stared at me, breath ragged. “What about family? What about blood?”
“You ain’t my blood.”
“I am. Whether you want me to be or not. What’s in me is in you.”
“Nah. You a bitch. Ain’t none of that in me.”
He opened his mouth—maybe to beg, maybe to laugh, maybe to say something else fucked up. I didn’t care what he had to say. I pulled the trigger. It took one clean shot to the chest.
Seth looked at me. Braeden looked at me. Even Prime, Cardo, and Ajani who were coming down the stairs paused. But Farrah… My little thug didn’t flinch. She didn’t pull away.
Instead, she just reached for me with shaking fingers. “Take me home, please,” she murmured.
I wrapped her in my arms, lifting her gently. “You got that, shorty.”