“You think you can just waltz in here? This is my fucking turf, and she’s my property.”
Boston steps forward, her determination sparking like a fuse, and she grips my arm tightly, her eyes flaring with fierce protectiveness. “We’re not here for a fucking negotiation.”
No sooner do the words leave her lips than the tension in the room shatters like glass. The guy lunges toward us with an open switchblade, but Raze is quicker, stepping to intercept him with a guttural growl that rumbles deep in his chest.
Before I can fully register what’s happening, fists are flying, and the chaos erupts around us. I throw myself to the side, dodging an incoming punch that nearly grazes my jaw. My hands clench around the brass knuckles, and in the chaos of movement, I find my target—directly in front of me is the bastard who dared to threaten that girl. I swing hard and fast, catching him on the jaw with a sickening crunch, and he stumbles back, shock registering on his face as I shove him aside. The sheer force of the blow sends him crashing into a table stacked with empty bottles, shattering the glass and igniting the anger within me. More figures loom, thrashing in aggression,and I barely notice the commotion around me—the underlying motivation driving me forward like a freight train.
“Get to her!” I shout, my voice barely heard over the chaos, and Boston and Raze quickly pivot, heading toward the girl still slumped in the chair.
As Raze approaches, he throws a fist toward the nearest guy, who stumbles backward, clearly caught off guard. Boston reaches the girl and kneels beside her, concern etched into her features more than anger.
“Hey, it’s okay—we’re going to get you out of here,” she assures her, but doubt flickers behind the girl’s eyes.
“Whitney,” she whispers hoarsely. “You need to find Whitney. She’s… with him, and I don't know where he took her.”
I glance at Raze, understanding solidifying in a flicker of shared fear. “Dustin,” I growl through clenched teeth.
The name feels like a curse slipping from my lips, a visceral reminder of his power over everyone around him. A surge of anger wells up inside me, unfurling like a dark cloud ready to unleash its storm. I glance back at Raze, his face taut with determination, and I know we can't waste any more time. Whitney is out there, trapped, and we have to find her—faster than the shadows can swallow her whole.
twenty
being a burden
Hawk
Follow Me: Uncle Kracker
"Where is he?" I demand, leaning close to the girl who’s high out of her mind, our chaotic surroundings fading slightly as her frightened gaze finds mine. “We need to know where to look.”
She hesitates, clearly torn between fear and the urge to help. “He brought her to an old warehouse off the docks—beyond the fence line.” Her voice trembles as if she’s reliving the trauma, butI can see the glimmer of desperation in her eyes. “I don't know what he’s planning, but he’s banking on you finding her.”
My blood runs cold. I can already feel the sickening knot tightening in my stomach—the realization that time is slipping away. I lock eyes with Raze and Boston, and the three of us converge in a silent pact, understanding swelling between us like electricity.
“Go,” I tell the girl sternly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Get out of here while you still can. Don’t go home; don’t stop anywhere. Just keep running.”
She nods slowly, still looking shaken, but the urgency pushes her to her feet, and in a flash, she dashes for the door we came through, leaving behind the chaos that temporarily enveloped all of us.
“Let’s go,” I bark at Raze and Boston, already shoving my way back into the fray. The room, rife with adrenaline and hysteria, seems to swirl around us as we make our way toward the exit.
“Wait,” Boston calls, her voice breaking through. I turn, and she’s staring at a fallen bag on the floor that hadn’t caught my eye in the chaos. It looks like a gym bag, slightly torn and dirty. “We need to check it—could be something helpful.”
Against my better judgment, I pause, glancing around for any potential threats while the energy in the room simmers around us. I bend down, opening the bag cautiously. Inside, my fingers brush against what feels like rope, and my stomach churns. I pull it out—thick, coarse, and well-used. A shiver runs down my spine as more items reveal themselves: a few old syringes, some cheap knives, and a pale plastic bag filled with a powdery substance.
“Shit,” Raze mutters, his eyes widening at the sight. “He’s not just a kidnapping or a dealing; he’s fucking trafficking now. This is a fucking trap waiting to happen.”
I toss the items back into the bag and slam it shut, determination flooding my veins. “Not tonight,” I reply fiercely. “We’re not letting him fucking win. We’re getting Whitney back—now.”
We exit the room, pushing through the chaos and debris left scattered. Just before reaching the door, however, I stop short as a trio of figures blocks our path—menacing silhouettes casting shadows against the light spilling through from the hall, their faces marked with malice and intent.
“You think you can just walk out of here after showing your faces?” One of them sneers, his hands flexing around a baseball bat glinting ominously under the flickering lights.
“Yeah,” another one adds, stepping further into our line of sight, reveling in the moment of confrontation. “This is our turf, and you’ve already breached our damn hospitality.”
Boston’s breath hitches, and Raze stiffens beside me, muscles tense as we face this new threat. But we’re not afraid—we’re ready.
“You’re making a fucking mistake,” I warn, my voice low but laced with power. “We’re not here for you, but if you don’t step aside, we’ll end this right fucking now.”
They snarl, spitting out harsh laughter like a cruel wind, but I feel that slight fear—the need to protect what little humanity we have left—fueling my determination. A shuffle of feet erupts from behind, and Raze lunges out, shoving the closest guy hard enough to jolt him backward. Before the guy can recover, I slide my fingers into the brass knuckles, and I dive in, swinging my fists with the fury of a lover scorned and a brother betrayed.
