I stepped away from my spot anyway, aiming a finger at Tash so they would know my intentions.
The warning sounds of clinking metal alerted me that I was about to walk through a minefield, hundreds of bullets aimed, and ready to eat into me. I had allowed myself to go into the quiet as I prepared to take my walk through the valley of the shadow of death. I prayed that the cold, heartless bastard waiting on the other end wasn’t ready to take me today. Cautious steps and eagle-eyed glares eased me closer until I was kneeling next to Tash, helping her up.
“Thank you for coming to get me. I’m so sorry I let them take me,” she whispered, her voice barely sounding from the strain of the rope biting into her windpipe.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one that’s sorry. I shouldn’t have let you anywhere near this shit.”
She attempted a smile. “I’d have done it anyway. I want to be like you. Fearless. Pretty. A boss.”
“Sweet, Tash. You can be all of that outside the drug game. This is not the only way. I’m not the woman you should be using as a role model.”
The pot was calling the kettle black because my role model was Silvia Cardenas, but Tash didn’t need to know that.
Tash shook her head. “In this world, you’re the perfect woman I should be looking up to.”
There was no time to reason with her. Even when faced with death, the girl was determined to be like me. I didn’t understand why she had passed up an opportunity to get away from this shit.
Her mother was a desperate crack addict, abusing the drug for over a decade. Her brothers were in jail, one for murder and the other for robbing a convenience store and shooting a cop. Drugs had found a way to take away her entire family, yet she still wanted in the game.
She clung to me, limping while I led her through that deathly valley towards my SUV. She was raped, beaten, and more than likely tortured, but a weak smile was poised on her lips as I led her to the back of the vehicle.
The standoff continued, no one dropping their weapons, but not firing either. They were smart enough to stand down, knowing I had people out there that they couldn’t see.
I was curious as to where the extra guns had come from since I had pinpointed red dots pinned to the chest of nearly every Haitian brave enough to show his face. The backup I had called was deadly, discreet, and devilish enough to turn the lights out in hell. However, there was enough fire power aimed at the Haitians to take out the entire neighborhood.
Once I got Tash into the back seat and shut her inside, I returned to my place next to my men. My calculating gaze scanned all of the men aiming guns at us. Most kept glancing at Trench, who was splayed out as an example of what happens when you’re shot in the head with a 7.62-millimeter machine gun round.
His head was laid open like a busted melon as most of his brains had become insect and crow food. His body was folded back on his legs that appeared to have already been stiffening.
At the moment, I was high on adrenaline and therefore took comfort in the idea that my death would likely be swift if it did come now. However, Arjen kept popping into my head, reminding me that I needed to be more careful with my life.
“Marshawn, Shockey, and Torch, lower your weapons,” I ordered. They lowered their weapons, which caused some of Trench’s men to lower theirs. Some conversed back and forth with each other, likely questioning what to do in the face of their boss’s death. Most had discovered that they were targets and pointed out to the others the red dots dancing over them.
“Angel. Devil. Kill the leaders. Forty-eight hours. I want to see proof.”
Marshawn, Shockey, and Torch glared like I had lost my mind.
“Who are you talking to?” Marshawn asked. I tapped a finger to my ear, alerting that I had at least planned for back up and that I had not carelessly risked their lives.
“There is at least one more that forced himself on Tash. I want him alive,” I finished the order I was putting in. I stood in place, taking in the faces of the men I would be responsible for killing.