Chapter Thirty-Four — Jamie
Gunfire erupted in a deafening wave behind me as Draeon dragged me backward.
His arm was locked tight around my throat, cutting off my air, while his gun remained buried deep in my ribs.
My ears rang with a punishing hum. Muzzle flashes lit up the warehouse like jagged lightning, and the dull, heavy thuds of bodies hitting the floor echoed through the chaos.
I couldn't see who was winning. I couldn't see if Moses was still standing. All I could do was claw desperately at Draeon's forearm and try not to choke on my own breath.
He kicked through the back exit, shoving me violently ahead of him.
The heavy metal door slammed shut behind us, instantly muffling the screams and gunfire inside.
The cold night air hit my face like a slap.
The dark parking lot was empty, the loose gravel crunching under my boots as I stumbled.
I caught myself, spinning around with my hands up.
Draeon stood in front of the exit door, his gun aimed directly at my chest. His lip was split and bleeding—he must have caught a stray piece of shrapnel inside. His eyes were entirely wild.
"You just had to be a problem," he spat, his voice trembling with an erratic, dangerous rage. "Now I gotta torture whatever information I can out of you. Why do you make me do this to you, Lola?" He sounded like a truly abusive, twisted motherfucker.
I didn't answer him. My cheek was throbbing violently where he'd struck me, and my ribs ached where the barrel had bruised them.
Suddenly, blinding headlights swept across the gravel lot.
Tires screeched in a violent arc. A black sedan slid to a hard stop barely twenty feet away—its engine roaring, the doors already flying open before the car even fully settled.
Vinny stepped out first. Right behind him was a massive, imposing Black dude—this had to be Bael. How in the absolute fuck did they know where I was?
Vinny already had a rifle braced firmly against his shoulder, the scope glinting under the pale lot lights. Bael moved out to the flank, his pistol raised and tracking.
Draeon's head snapped toward them, his grip tightening on his weapon. Then, a dark laugh broke from his chest.
“More backup, sis?”
My eyes shifted desperately to Vinny, then back to Draeon. Why the hell was he here?
Suddenly, something clicked behind my brother's eyes. He squinted into the darkness. "Wait." He shook his head, his smile instantly vanishing. "Wait, wait, wait."
He stared harder at Vinny. "I know you. I know your face." His eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. "Vito Bellamy. You were a contract. A job they wanted done that got canceled."
Vinny's jaw tightened to stone. That was his only reaction.
Draeon's eyes cut back to me, then flew back to Vinny. A low, bitter chuckle escaped him, building until he was laughing out loud. "Oh, that's rich. That's fucking rich. You two are hiding out together?"
He pointed his gun squarely at me, but kept his eyes locked dead on Vinny.
"You know she looks just like her, right?" Draeon's voice turned sweet. Poisonous. "His dead wife. The one they put in the dirt." He clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Did you find my sister just to take the dead wife’s place?”
I saw Vinny's finger tighten visibly against the trigger.
"Or maybe," Draeon continued, a wicked grin stretching across his face, "maybe she found you. Maybe little sister's been playing you this whole goddamn time. Haven't you, Lola? Using that face. That sad, pretty face. Making him think he actually got a second chance at love."
"Shut up, Draeon," I spat. He was intentionally sowing discord, trying to tear us apart. The only reason he even knew about the resemblance was because Rage had been broadcasting that warehouse security video to every player in the underworld.
"Why? Hit a nerve?" Draeon grinned, thoroughly enjoying the psychological knife twist. "Vinny.
Come on, man. You really think a bitch like her loves you?
You really think anybody from our bloodline loves anybody?
She's a runner. That's what she does. She runs.
And the second she's done using you, she'll run from you, too. "
Vinny didn't say a word.
But I saw the little red laser dot appear directly on Draeon's forehead. Right between his eyes.
Draeon saw it, too. His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. "Bold move," he threatened. "You pull that trigger, and my men come pouring out that door to put you both in the ground."
Right then, more heavily armed men exited the SUVs that had pulled up behind Vinny's sedan.
The warehouse doors behind Draeon stayed completely closed. No backup was coming for him. His men were trapped inside with Moses and Marcus. Still, Draeon stood his ground, his head held high, ready for whatever execution was coming. Our daddy would have been proud of how reckless he was.
Vinny took one calculated step forward. Then another.
"I'm gonna give you exactly one chance," Vinny said, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register. "Drop the gun. Walk away. And you never come near her again."
Draeon stared at him, the red dot bouncing slightly on his skin. Then he laughed again, pure defiance. "You think I'm scared of a red dot? I've been dying since the day I was born, pretty boy. You think I—"
BANG.
Vinny fired.
Draeon staggered back, but he didn't drop. The high-caliber shot had clipped his shoulder, tearing through fabric and meat. He had jerked his body at the absolute last second, saving his life, but the impact gave me the window I needed to dive out of the line of fire.
Draeon screamed a mangled curse, and then movement exploded from the shadows right beside the exit door. One of his remaining soldiers had slipped out unnoticed.
He came out of nowhere, his gun already barking.
POP. POP. POP.
Vinny went down. Just like that.
His rifle clattered violently against the gravel. His body hit the dirt with a sickening thud. His hands instantly pressed against his abdomen—and when he pulled them back, they were covered in thick, dark red.
"VINNY!" I screamed, already sprinting across the gravel.
I didn't hear Draeon behind me. I didn't hear the rest of the gunfire erupting as Bael and his men moved in to clean up the rest. I didn't hear anything but the agonizing echo of my own heartbeat.
I slid onto my knees beside him, the sharp rocks biting painfully through my denim jeans.
His eyes, hazy and losing focus, found mine. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again as he struggled for air.
"Hey," he whispered, a weak, ragged sound. "Hey. Don't..."
"Don't talk." My hands pressed down hard against his stomach, desperately trying to seal the wounds and stop the flow, but it was useless.
The blood was everywhere. Hot. Slippery.
Coming way too fast. "Don't you fucking talk to me.
You should have stayed away, Vinny. You should have stayed as far away from me as you could. "
His hand came up, his blood-slicked fingers weakly touching my cheek, leaving a smear of red against my skin.
“Don't cry for me,” he whispered.
And then his hand dropped, and his body went entirely limp.