Page 171 of Riot

But then she pulled the trigger—and the gun jammed.

Dumbass.

Her eyes grew big, and she cried out, “I was just playing. I’m sorry. I’ll take the money.”

“Too late,” I replied, as I raised my gun and fired a shot right between her eyes.

“FUCK!” I grumbled. I picked up my phone and called Creed, told him everything that happened. We needed another clean-up. I swear to God, after this I’m takin’ my Black ass to Bali for some rest and relaxation.

I ran into the bedroom to find Jasir watching cartoons on his iPad. He was completely unaware of what just happened.

I hung out with him in the room until Creed and our crew got here.

Guess I’m a dad now.

Chapter 58

ALLURE

The scent of rosemary and roasted garlic hung heavy in the air, dancing with the sound of Beyonce’s Renaissance album and Irina’s laughter. It was the first time I’d heard her laugh since her birthday night before I ran off.

We were sitting cross-legged on the plush rug, wine glasses in hand, bowls of pasta cooling in our laps. Candlelight shimmered off the rim of her glass as she wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.

“He’s alive,” she whispered again, like the words alone were a prayer. “Rollo’s alive.”

Her voice broke, and she dropped her head into her hands, letting the sobs come this time. No shame, no apology. Just raw, grateful weeping.

“I thought he was dead,” she choked out. “He was down there, Allure. In that fucking basement. Thank God Havoc didn’t finish the job.”

I leaned in, my hand resting on her thigh, squeezing gently. “He’s in the hospital now. Safe. Healing. I’m so glad they found him.”

She nodded, eyes shining, face flushed from the wine and emotion. “I just… I needed one good thing. One person I didn’t lose. I was about to be all alone.”

We sat like that a while, letting the warmth of the food and each other settle in. She finished her bowl, wiped her face clean, and stood.

“I’m going to him,” she said, grabbing her coat and sliding her phone into her pocket. “I need to see him with my own eyes.”

“Do you want me to come with you,” I offered.

“No,” she smiled softly. “I want this to be just me. Just us.”

I nodded. “Text me when you’re there.”

She blew me a kiss and disappeared into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her.

I cleaned up slowly, the quiet settling over the brownstone like a thick blanket. My body moved on autopilot, rinsing dishes, wiping counters, folding the blanket Irina had been wrapped in. But my mind was back with Riot. Wondering if he was okay. How was Jason?

It was past midnight when I heard the door open. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until it rushed out of me like steam from a kettle.

Riot stepped in, looking like he hadn’t slept in three days. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense, but his eyes found mine immediately. And in his arms, clutching a lion by the ear, was Jasir.

Alive.

Safe.

His curls were tousled. His eyes sticky with sleep. He looked up at me, eyes wide, unsure.

I dropped everything and walked over slowly, crouching in front of them.

---