I shake my head, already moving, crawling toward Lexi on my hands and knees. She’s completely limp now, her head rolled to one side, eyes half-open but vacant. The drug’s fully taken hold, stolen her consciousness, left her vulnerable.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
Oxy grabs my arm way before I can reach her, yanking me back. “You move, you die, you idiot!” He pulls me behind the couch.
Across the room, Revan’s on top of Vincent, raining down blows. Fists connecting with flesh, the wet sound of impact mixing with Vincent’s grunts. The gunfire’s dying down now, replaced with shouts and the clang of metal against concrete.
And then the doors creak again.
Everyone freezes.
Another man enters, and this one walks like he owns the place. Gray beard, steady gait, eyes cold and alive in a way Vincent’s never were—Vincent’s eyes are always clouded with chemicals and madness, but this man’s are clear as winter ice.
Vincent stops fighting.
Revan freezes, his fist raised mid-strike.
Oxy mutters beside me, “No fucking way it worked.”
Vincent stumbles to his feet, bleeding from his lip, nose, probably broken ribs. He points a trembling gun at the new arrival—where the hell did he get another gun?—and his hand shakes with rage or drugs or both.
“Hello, old friend,” Vincent sneers, blood spraying from his split lip. “We meet again.”
Gilbert Kane smiles, slow and venomous, a snake deciding whether to strike. “Vincent.”
“You...” Vincent’s laugh is evil, unhinged, the sound of someone who’s lost touch with reality. “You’re actually here. You fucking clown.” He continues laughing, doubling over with it. Then his eyes cut to me, and there’s something there—reassurance, pride, the twisted affection of a monster.
He’s always preferred me over Revan because his blood son refuses to play his games. But Vincent knows the truth—I’m harder than Revan ever could be. I’ve had to be. So Vincent chose me to do the real bullshit, the dirty work, while his son got to pretend at power.
Vincent stands, dusting himself off like this is a business meeting. “Let’s have a talk.”
Gilbert stares at him, unblinking. “No.”
“Give me double what you owe.” Vincent’s trying to sound commanding, but it comes out desperate.
“I’m not here for negotiation,” Gilbert says quietly.
I’m sick to the stomach with enjoyment. Finally someone to stand up to the big bad drug dealer who’s been kicking my asssince I was a kid. And it’s none other than Lexi’s blood, her father.
Vincent swings his gun toward Lexi and Axel, both drugged and unaware of the danger they’re in. “You will pay me back because you fucked me! You fucked me, Gil! Half a mil!? I will blow their fucking brains out, Kane. Watch me do it. Watch me—”
Revan moves fast—faster than I’ve ever seen him move.
A hard smack to Vincent’s wrist, precise and brutal. The gun hits the ground and slides under a pallet.
Gilbert doesn’t even blink. “Let’s handle this the old-fashioned way.”
And then hecharges.
Fists fly. Teeth bare. Grunts and impacts fill the space. Years of hatred crystallizing into pure violence, both men trying to kill each other with their bare hands.
Revan shouts orders. “Get them out! Now!”
Two Reapers rush forward, cutting the ropes off Lexi and Axel with tactical knives, dragging them clear of the fight.
I stay where I am, paralyzed. The gun Oxy gave me is still in my hand but it feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.
If I move toward her, Vincent sees. If I shoot, I’m a traitor to the only family I’ve ever known—toxic and terrible as it is. If I don’t shoot, he’ll destroy me for not being on his side.
