Chapter 23 Ayanna #3
I stepped out of the front door easing it shut behind me. Sham was two steps in front of me opening the back to let me in. I sank into the leather, letting the door close. By the time I looked up, both him and Arlo were locked in on the rearview, waiting.
“Back to the original plan,” I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket. “I sent you the address.”
Arlo gave a short nod, adjusted the rearview like he always did, and pulled off. The car eased through the streets, and I leaned back, finally letting my body relax into the leather. I pulled up a text from Constance and was halfway through replying when Arlo slowed at a red light.
Something about the way the car coasted made me look up.
Arlo was on edge and so was Sham. But I couldn’t understand why.
There was barely anyone on the streets. Maybe it was because we were in a part of town that wasn’t neutral.
This wasn’t necessarily anyone’s turf, but it wasn’t my family’s either.
It wasn’t a ton of residential homes. Mostly abandoned commercial businesses.
A bunch of mom-and-pop stores that closed as soon as the streetlights came on.
We had just cleared a light industrial area.
Mostly warehouses and parking lots on either side.
A boarded-up tire shop sat on the corner, and the Shell station across from it had one lonely pump in use.
The man at it didn’t even glance in our direction.
Not even a second passed before a black SUV crept up from behind.
Then another slid up on the left side. And another skid from the right, a different SUV stopped right in front of us, blocking us in.
My hand was already reaching for the seatbelt and then the pistol tucked low on my side when I opened my mouth to speak. “Arlo—”
That’s all I got out before the fourth SUV slammed into us from the right, hard.
The impact jerked us like rag dolls, rocking everything inside the car.
My body snapped sideways, only stopped by the seatbelt draped tightly across my chest, knocking the wind out of me.
My head cracked against the doorframe with a loud thud.
“Fuck!” The word ripped out of me before I could stop it.
Sharp pain burst through my skull, blinding one eye for a short second. The flash of white lit up my vision, and everything around me turned into a sea of fuzziness.
“Arlo! Sham!” I gasped, struggling to catch my breath, panic taking hold of me. “No, no, no.”
I removed the seatbelt from across my body as I fought to pull myself together. The traffic blurred in the background and the muffled shouts all blended into one.
I blinked hard, trying to focus, but everything felt... disjointed.
“I don’t care what you have to do; get us outta here.” Sham barked returning the quick shots to the men now approaching. “Now!”
Gunfire rang out loud and fast. Bullets ripped into the side of the car, quickly replacing the silence with loud cracking of glass and metal-on-metal scraping.
Sham’s window was the first to be hit. Bulletproof or not, the pressure of a head-on collision paired with multiple shots, was enough to compromise the window.
The second and third shots made it explode under pressure, sending thick spiderwebs of cracks through the glass.
“Fuck!” Sham cursed, reaching for his second weapon.
In real-time, the muscle memory of a trained man kicked in. His hand flew back, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me down to the floorboard like I weighed nothing.
“Stay down!” he demanded “Arlo, reverse!”
Arlo threw the car into reverse, tires screeching against the pavement, then gunned it forward again, ramming the SUV blocking us in.
The whole frame shook, but the truck in front of us didn’t move an inch.
That bitter, metallic stench of gunpowder hit my nose right before the shots resumed.
A flurry of pops erupted from Sham’s gun as he fired back; several shots as he ducked low behind the dash.
Outside, I could see shadows moving... three, maybe four bodies... guns drawn. One raised his arm aiming two pistols while another aimed what looked like a sawed off shot gun. Right at my back window.
Arlo twisted in his seat, cursing under his breath as he fired through the busted glass. “Four shooters, left side!”
His aim was steady, even under pressure. One target dropped to a knee, hit clean. Another took a bullet in the shoulder but kept coming like he was some character on Grand Theft Auto. Sham and Arlo worked like they’d done this before, trading fire with enemies without wasting a single round.
Then the return fire came, rapidly. A bullet tore through the compromised windshield hitting Arlo in the shoulder. He flinched, his arm jerking back unnaturally as blood bloomed on his jacket.
“Shit—Arlo!” I screamed, eyes wide, heart damn near in my throat.
“Ahh.”
I couldn’t just lay there.
Laying here could only end one way. And I wasn’t keen on dying in the middle of the street.
With Arlo bleeding and Sham outnumbered, we had to work together.
That’s when I saw movement close to the passenger side, creeping low behind the SUV door.
My body moved before my mind could catch up.
I lifted my pistol, aimed from the floorboard, and squeezed.
The shot hit. Center mass. And he dropped instantly.
Adrenaline coursed through me as I fought to steady my hand.
This can’t keep going.
There was too much going on. Too much noise, too many bodies. In broad daylight. Atlanta PD would surely be on the way, so the assailants were likely working fast. We needed to end this.
“Fuck!” Sham shouted again when the driver’s door yanked open.
Arlo and I rang off shots until we both ran out of bullets and he was hit a second time. This time it was lower, in the side. He slumped back, the loss of blood slowing him down.
The next wave of men rushed to the car, and the first guy tried to reach in.
I was already on my belly in the back floorboard, reloading.
Sham turned swiftly, putting the first guy down.
The minute the next man got close, I let off a round of shots.
The bullet whipped past my security, and punched into the man’s throat.
He jerked back mid-step, one hand shooting to his neck trying to stop the blood already streaming through his fingers.
Stumbling back he dropped hard to the pavement.
“Got him.” For half a second, I felt the tiniest bit of relief. It vanished just as fast, since the chaos around us resumed almost immediately.
Sham was still swinging, fighting any nigga getting too close and firing off shots. There was a lot of bleeding, and shouting. When he got hit again—this time in the thigh — he dropped to one knee, still trying to block the door with his body.
The shotgun hit next, blasting over and over, until the side glass finally gave. It exploded inward, fragments raining over me. My arm caught a piece, slicing through my forearm. But I didn’t scream. I didn’t have time to scream in this ambush. I clenched my teeth and tried to keep firing.
Then a thick hand reached in and grabbed the lock, unlocking it.
When the backdoor flung open, he wasted no time reaching in and grabbing my ankle. I kicked... hard, and screamed louder.
“Get off me!”
I got another shot off, hitting the one guy in the leg. He cursed and dropped his weapon.
“Let go of me!” I yelled, struggling to pull my leg free, but there were too many.
I knew I was about to be taken and there wasn’t shit I could do about it.
Another man reached in, this one wearing all black, a ski mask covering everything but his eyes. I caught the glimpse of the brass knuckles on his hand just before he punched me in the stomach. When I cried out in pain, he landed another one flush against my face.
Pain exploded across my jaw, and my ears rang.
Voices came and went, muffled like they were underwater.
“He wants her alive.”
“Go go go!”
“Leave him—he’s gone!”
The next time I opened my eyes, everything was dark.
My head was pounding and my jaw felt like it had been hit by a freight train.
It was throbbing so bad I couldn’t tell if it was broken or just bruised.
Every part of my body felt heavy. Moving my legs and arms would have made me cry.
My mouth was so dry, it felt like I ate a pound of crackers.
Blood crusted at the corner of my lips, and I know tears stained my face.
My body screamed for me to move, to fight, to do something — but all I could manage was a groan before everything went black again.
I don’t know how much time passed before I came to again. This time the car was moving. Bumpy roads flung my aching body around and low murmurs filled the vehicle. I still couldn’t see a thing, but the voices were clear as day — two males and a female.
“Good job, fellas.” Her voice was smooth and smug.
She was proud of what they pulled off. She sounded familiar.
Maybe Isabella. I couldn’t be for sure since I’d only met her maybe two times.
Whoever it was, her perfume was loud—a floral scent.
Whatever it was, it clung to her skin and swirled the space making my stomach twist.
I tried to hold on. Tried to stay awake long enough to place the voice. But my body betrayed me again, slipping into the black.
Next time I woke up, I didn’t get the luxury of easing into consciousness. I was being yanked out of the car, roughly. The warm air greeted me as I was being dragged to some unknown location. My legs gave out beneath me, and I stumbled over my own feet, both dragging against gravel.
Things were still black, I was dizzy, and my hearing was warped by the pounding in my skull. But I wasn’t so messed up that my ears deceived me.
It couldn’t be.
“Stupid bitch thinks her family is so untouchable.” I heard him say and my heart dropped. I knew that voice anywhere.
Rage spiked, but my body was too weak to do anything about it.
“I’ll be glad when this is over.” He griped. “I’ve already lost so much over this bullshit. You and Orlando better end this shit fast. And none of this can link back to me. I have a whole career to protect.”
“Lost so much?” The woman scoffed. “Spare me the sob story. You happily agreed to this.”
“Revenge for my family. Not waste a year of my life. My mother didn’t—”
“Your mother’s dead. Focus on the job.” She cut him off effectively silencing him and all I could do was whisper it, broken and bloodied. “Corey.”