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I don’t take my eyes off of her until I hear a scream I will never forget in my life coming from just a few feet away from her. I stare at the back of a man’s head while he’s crouched down on the floor. I know this is Royal. He stands up, giving me my first view of Manny.

“Aw, fuck!”

He’s screaming, rocking the chair. And then I notice it. There in the corner. Crates. Large crates. I know this place. I know exactly where it is. It’s a storage unit for the guns Manny and I steal. I’ve been to this place more times than I can count.

With shaky fingers I stop the video. I pull the flash drive out, shoving it into my back pocket before opening the dresser drawer and pulling out my Glock and clips. I shove the gun into the back of my jeans, racing down the hallway and down the stairs. My boots thump loudly as I go. I swing the office door wide open, not even bothering to knock.

“I know where they are,” I say breathlessly.

Four pairs of eyes are centered directly on me.

“Shit.”

Lola and Cecily both stand. I can only look at my mother in law. I cannot bear to look at Lola. She has to know what’s about to happen. Either one or both of her sons will be dead by the end of the night. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain and heartache she must be feeling right now. The same as Salvatore. He knows better than anyone how things like this go down. He is the first to speak.

“Where are they, son?”

“He has them at the warehouse in Queens.”

“Are you sure?” This comes from John.

“Yes, I’m sure, for Christ’s sake! Let’s roll.”

I don’t give them time to follow me. I’m down the hall and out the door as fast as my legs will go. I try to block out the women’s screams, yelling to all of us to please be careful and bring their babies home. I shake my foggy head, clear my thoughts, and focus on what lies ahead.

By the time Salvatore and John get to the car, I have it raring and ready to go. John hops in the front and Salvatore in the back. Tires squeal as I race out of the drive.

“Open the gate,” I hear Salvatore say heatedly. Then he’s on his phone, every word clipped to whomever he is talking to. I pay no attention.

“My God, boy, are you trying to get us killed?”

John’s hands are gripping the dash. I’m weaving in and out of traffic, speeding like a bitch and running every red light, driving heedlessly.

“He’s right, Cain. You can’t cause an accident; it will delay us getting there. Besides, I already have guys surrounding the place.”

I’m so in the zone. So ready to see, touch, and hold Calla. The only thing on my mind is getting to her.

I slow down and don’t say a word, my eyes trained on the road ahead. The closer we get, the thirstier I get for blood.

“Pull in here,” Salvatore commands.

We’re about a quarter of a mile from the warehouse. I swing the car into a vacant lot.

John points to the side of the building where a narrow paved path leads to the back of the building.

“Around back.”

My fist grip the steering wheel tight. I’m ready.

“What is this place?”

“One of my buildings. It’s empty. I have several men meeting us here.”

I’m stunned. John must see it in my expression when we come to a stop alongside several other cars. At least a half dozen men are standing around with rifles on their backs, cigarettes hanging out of their mouths. I put the car in park, cutting the engine. I grab the keys and go to open the door.

“Cain.”

John grabs my arm.

“You need to get your head on straight right the fuck now.”

We have a stare down. I know he’s right. I’ve never done anything like this before. I take a few calm breaths before speaking.

“Tell me what you want me to do. Just don’t tell me I have to wait out here. I need to see her just as badly as you do.”

“Fuck! You listen to me. I want Royal. Calla may be your wife, but she’s my little girl. And no matter how much blood has been lost between Salvatore and his son, he won’t kill him. But I will. I go in alone.”

I slump against the headrest. My heart explodes in my chest, bouncing around like a fucking ball.

“I know you want to see her. Hell, I know better than anyone the means you’ve gone to, to protect her. But Cain, this is not a job for you. I’m not saying you can’t pull the trigger on that sweet ass Glock of yours,” he adds wryly.

I chuckle. The motherfucker doesn’t miss a damn thing.

“What I’m saying is, I’m trained for this. I already have so much blood on my hands. I won’t allow you or Calla to have to live with the shit that runs through my head every day. I love the both of you too much. I have no clue where my daughter’s head will be at when I get her out of there. She’s going to need you to be strong for her. Be that man.”

Shit, he’s scaring the hell out of me. I know he means well, but fuck me if he’s not in a roundabout kind of way telling me he’s not sure if he will come out alive.

“What I need you to do is tell me exactly where in that warehouse they are.”

The faint smell of cigarette smoke fills my nostrils. John is the one man who I know will get her out alive, even if it costs him his own life. I recite two times exactly what I saw on that flash drive. His demeanor shifts from burning rage to the coldest of ice.

“I hope Salvatore and Lola will be able to forgive me for this. I’m not letting Royal off easily, not by a long shot. I’m going to make that piece of shit suffer. By the time I’m done with him, he’ll regret the day he caused this war against his father. No one touches my daughter.”

With that, John is gone. I sit in the car, my face looking up into the dark, clouded sky. I don’t know if John was trying to convince me or himself that he would come out of there alive. It’s the first time John has left me with any kind of doubt. Shit is about to be real, and son of a bitch if I’m not worried.

Salvatore turns from his position outside of the car, his eyes filled with regret and sadness. He knows what’s about to happen. How could he not? John works for him. He’s also very aware of the type of cold, hard killer his son is.

I run my hands through my hair. I need something, anything, to help me keep my mind from its negative thoughts. A cigarette. Smoke inhaling through my nose. Into my lungs. That’s what I need.

Exiting the car, I bum a few from one of the guys, then sit back in the car and fire it up. I suck in the deep aroma, letting it fill my lungs before I exhale. It does nothing. I put it out just as quickly as I lit the damn thing and lean my head back. I watch two ambulances pull in. The EMTs get out and shake hands with Salvatore. I watch him work his magic with all the men around him.

I don’t envy him at this precise moment. He’s a good man, a decent man. One who doesn’t deserve to be fighting the unknown of what’s happening inside his warehouse. He didn’t even see what was in that video, and yet, I know he knows. He’s aware of everything. Controls everything. I stay focused on him. He may be acting in control right now, his words rough and his smile tight. But he’s not. His shoulders are slouched. He keeps checking his phone and his watch. The building up the road.

I survey him until I feel like I have him all figured out. Until I see him look once more toward the building. The building that holds my heart.

“I want to ask you something, Calla.”

I remember that moment so well in my mind. The way her eyes got huge. The strange look she gave me.

“What? That you want to marry me?” she’d teased, her head lying in my lap. We were at the park that day. Moms were pushing their children on the swings. We were surrounded by laughter, though somehow it seemed it was only the two of us.