Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kai
The meetup is set for five o’clock. I’ve got all our men assembled as close to the docks as possible, knowing that The Brotherhood has done the same.
If anything goes wrong, they have my approval to start blowing it all up.
I hope it doesn’t come to that. They have to hand over the running of the docks to us. We have the perfect pawn, after all.
Every time I think about Amirah going back to them, it breaks a part of me that I don’t quite understand.
This was the plan all along—to keep her as a pawn.
To hold her captive and use her when the time was right, but now everything has changed.
My stupid heart fell hook, line, and sinker for her.
Life without her here won’t be the same, but setting her free doesn’t mean she won’t come back to us, does it?
That’s the question that’s been rolling around in my head. Will she ever come back to us? Does she want to? I’d like to think that she does. That this won’t be the end of everything between us. She’s always got a bed here if she needs it. That’s one promise I’ll give her.
I hate the thought of using her like this, trading her back to them like she’s a piece of property. But we don’t have a choice. I hope she understands. She agreed to it, so she must. It feels like she’s one of us now. I want to protect her, like I do my best friends.
I couldn’t save my sister or Freya. Now I’m handing Amirah back over. Maybe she’s better off back home with her family. But why does that crush me in a way I’ve never felt before? It’s as though every girl in my life has left. Now I’m the one handing her over.
I step outside, lifting my hood to cover my head.
Bear, Zion, and Amirah are huddled around my car.
Amirah is leaning back into Bear’s embrace.
She’s got on her 18hood hoodie, and I want to take a photo of this.
Of her with my best friends. She looks like one of us. Like she belongs here, and she does.
If you’d asked me all those weeks ago, I would have laughed at the idea. Who knew the princess of The Daring Brotherhood would fit with us? A bunch of misfits just trying to survive in this fucked-up town on the wrong side of the tracks.
Amirah looks over at me, the corner of her mouth lifting, and I can’t help but smile back. She pushes off the car and stalks toward me. Before I can take my next breath, she wraps her arms around me, and I freeze for a second before hugging her back.
She rests her head on my chest, her ear on my heart. I hope that this isn’t goodbye forever. That this won’t be the last time I touch her.
I press a kiss on her head, and she looks up. Her green eyes are glassy. Something passes between us—a farewell of sorts.
I’ve spent my whole existence hating her family, The Brotherhood, for what they did to my family. To my town. And now I’ve fallen for their princess.
She reaches up, planting her plump lips on mine, and I savor her sweet taste, groaning into her mouth. She pulls back, breathless. “Thanks for not killing me, I guess.”
I laugh. “Thanks for being a good captive, I guess,” I say, shrugging.
“Hurry the fuck up. We’ve got a deal to broker,” Bear yells. I look over, and he’s bouncing from one foot to the other.
If The Brotherhood really does accept our deal, and Amirah goes back with them, I’m worried about how Bear will react.
He’s obsessed with her. Will he cause chaos and ruin everything?
We have to take that risk. Having control over the docks will change everything for us.
Give us some power back. A foothold. He’ll just have to trust that Amirah will return to us.
We all will.
We walk back over to the car and pile in. I wrap my fingers around the steering wheel, watching Amirah in the rearview mirror as I reverse out of the parking lot.
She’s looking out the window, taking everything in. There’s a little crease between her eyebrows. Zion rests his hand on her knee. We’ve left Cleo with her babysitter, Natalie. She’s the only person outside of us that Zion trusts with her, and Cleo knows Natalie.
I worry about his little girl. The changes. Finding out her mother is gone forever. It’s not going to be an easy road for her here with us, but it’s better than being with Callan.
The car remains silent the whole trip over the tracks and into the docks. Two large ships sit idle in the bay. Containers are being lifted off and placed down on the port. All of this could be ours today if this plays in our favor.
We pull up next to a deep-red Bugatti La Voiture Noire, and I want to open my door into it, scratch it up, but it won’t matter to them. They’ll just pay to get it fixed. The amount of money they have is ridiculous compared to the people in Daringhood, and they don’t give a shit.
“Do you think there are women in those containers right now?” Amirah asks, pointing to one with Bill’s Freight on the side.
I shrug. “Who knows?” But then I wrap an arm around her. “If there are, we’re about to save them. We’re going to take over—they’ll want you back.”
She goes to open her door.
“Wait,” I say, and she pauses.
“Whatever happens, you’ll always have a safe place with us,” I reassure Amirah, watching her in the rearview mirror.
A tear falls down her cheek, and she wipes it away. “I know,” she says quietly.
Bear groans before sliding out the passenger side and slamming the door. The car shakes, and I curse.
“He going to give us trouble?” Zion asks.
“When doesn’t he?” I quip, and we follow him out.
The sun starts to set on the horizon, the orange glow reflecting off the water. It’s eerily quiet. Amirah stays close beside me. Looking around the dock, I try to spot any of our backup, but I can’t see them, which is good. If I can’t, that means The Brotherhood can’t either.
A scream bellows from across the port, and Freya comes running out from behind one of the containers, headed straight for us. Her long brown hair is flying behind her.
I smile. Fuck, I’ve missed my best friend.
She runs straight into Amirah, lifting her up and spinning her around. Amirah laughs. I leave them to their little reunion, keeping close to Amirah, not wanting Freya to take her and ruin everything. Freya lets her go, and then she turns toward me.
Her fist swings straight at my stomach. Oh, fuck.