Page 154 of Riot

“Too bad,” Creed muttered. “We’re good at finding ghosts.”

Before I could respond, the front door creaked and Irina stepped in from the hallway. Her curls were wild, eyes tired, expression tight with worry.

“I’ve tried him too,” she said softly, walking toward us. “Nothing. Last time we talked, Rollo said he was headed to Brooklyn. Something about meeting a friend. I thought it was nothing at first. But now... I’m starting to feel sick.”

That made three of us.

I leaned against the mantle, watching the flames dance in the fireplace even though the spring heat didn’t warrant it. My chest felt too tight. Like the walls were closing in one brick at a time.

“He would’ve checked in,” Creed said.

“Exactly,” I growled. “Rollo don’t flake.”

My phone buzzed.

I snatched it up—but it wasn’t Rollo.

It was Allure.

Diori just dropped the address. 1472 Newkirk. You ready?

I didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the screen, thumb hovering over the keys like hesitation could buy me a little more time. But the clock was already ticking. Rollo was missing. Carmelo was out there. And the woman I loved was asking if I was ready to burn the whole damn borough down if that’s what it took.

Creed’s voice cut into my thoughts. “That her?”

I nodded. “Yeah. She got the spot.”

Creed leaned back, rubbing his jaw like he was trying to grind the thought out of his head before it rooted too deep.

“You think…” he paused, eyes narrowing. “You think Rollo’s disappearance got anything to do with Carmelo? I mean what if he’s workin’ with him?”

I turned slow, letting that settle.

“Nah.”

Creed raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yeah. Rollo caught bodies at the winery. He shot two of Carmelo’s boys. I saw it. No hesitation, no flinching. He wasn’t shooting to wound, he was clearing house. That ain’t someone playing both sides.”

Creed grunted. “Could’ve been cover.”

“Nah.” My voice dropped, weight behind every syllable. “Rollo might be a lot of shit, loud, reckless, always chasing pussy — no offense Irina — but he’s loyal. Been riding with us forever. That man would rather die than flip on fam.”

Just as Creed and I were gearing up to move, the front door swung open again.

Allure.

She moved with purpose, still wearing that tight black tee and jeans from earlier, eyes sharp but swollen, like she’d criedand dried it all before stepping into the room. Her energy was different now. Not soft, not broken.

Focused.

She was choosing me over family.

“He’s there now,” she said, breath just a little shallow. “Diori triple confirmed it.”

Creed and I locked eyes, then turned back to her.

“You’re sure you want in on this?” I asked.

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