“I need you to lay down in the tub. Don’t make a sound. There are some men here and I don’t know what they want.” I turn to leave and she grabs my hand, panic filling her eyes. “I’m coming right back. I promise.” I kiss her softly on her lips and leave, hoping like hell she listens to me.
I pull my gun from my bag at the foot of the bed, then poke my head back into the bathroom to find Saylor laying in the tub. Her eyes are wide and scared, so I shoot her a wink. She offers me a small smile, but my wink does nothing to ease her worry.
I close the door, and when I’m out of her sight, I put my gun up and make my way down the hall. I’m sure nobody is inside, but I don’t know Cyrus or what he is capable of. If he wants me dead, I’m sure he is the kind of man that will stop at nothing to get just what he wants. I grab my phone off the table, making sure it’s on silent before I punch in Shady’s number.
“Yeah?” This time, Shady must sense something is wrong because he is anxious.
“I got a problem,” I whisper into the phone, and the sounds I hear on the other end tell me he is already on his way.
“Six minutes,” he answers, and I hang up, putting the phone on the floor because there is nowhere else to put it considering I’m only wearing boxers. I hope like hell they don’t kill me tonight. Mainly because of Saylor, but I damn sure don’t want them to drop me wearing nothing but my fucking underwear, and I don’t have the time to waste getting dressed.
The voices are now in the front parking lot instead of out back. I don’t know how long I have, but I’m sure that within six minutes, someone is gonna be dead. A knock at the front door has me nearly jumping out of my skin and shooting out of impulse. The thought of being caught off guard is more terrifying than what’s on the other side of the door.
I can hear my heart beating in my ears and I wonder why I’m so worked up. Maybe it’s because I’m so wired. Maybe it’s because Saylor is here. Or maybe it’s because for the first time in my life, I’m scared of dying. A knock sounds again and this time I expect it. Unless Cyrus is stupid, or just don’t give a fuck about respect, he isn’t gonna shoot me as soon as I open the door. His street cred would go to shit for being such a *. Taking out a man like me should be done in a more brutal way. This will ensure you high respect and earn you the fear of other men. Shooting me at my door, well that just shows that you were too weak to take me on.
I think of Saylor and what they will do to her if they kill me. Then I think of Shady and how he is now only five minutes out and will likely be able to track them down and get her back, if they even take her. Fuck it.
I put the gun behind my back and open the door, making sure my facial expression tells whoever is on the other side that I’m fucking pissed. When I see Cyrus standing with his arms clasped in front of his waist, showing me that he isn’t holding a gun, I immediately feel the fear of dying leave me. Then I get pissed that it was ever there in the first place.
There are four men standing around Cyrus, but none of them wear cuts. Even though Cyrus is proudly wearing his. I open the door wide, then walk backward to retrieve the phone from the floor, never taking my eyes off the five men crowding my doorway. I hit redial and put the phone to my ear.
“Two minutes.” He must have taken a shortcut.
“No need,” I respond, watching as the corner of Cyrus’s lip turns up slightly.
“I’ll be two blocks over. I’ll have eyes on you; you’ll have none on me.” I hang up, knowing in two minutes, Shady will be in the shadows if any of these men try anything stupid. The knowledge is reassuring.
“We’ll be in the parking lot across the street when you’re ready.” Cyrus turns to leave and I shut the door, watching his retreating back. I find Saylor still in the bathtub. This time, she is praying. Or asleep. When I say her name, her eyes open and prayer is confirmed.
“I’m going across the street to talk to some people. Shady is close and nothing is gonna happen, but I need you to stay in here until I get back. I’ll only be ten minutes.”
My words do nothing to ease her mind and I know she is fixing to fire off questions at me. I open the door wide and point to the alarm clock on the nightstand that is visible from where she is. “Ten minutes.” I pull on some jeans and a shirt, tucking my gun in the back of my pants, and slip my boots on. I walk outside, lighting a smoke on my way over to where Cyrus and his men are standing. I position myself so that I can see the front of the apartment in case someone has balls big enough to try to go in.