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He nods. “We’re with you, brother,” says Tim.
“My sister,” Scott comments.
“What about her?” my da’ asks. I glance at him, and he understands me without a word, giving me an apologetic look. “She can’t be a part of this, son. She can’t be mixed up with The Twelve business. If you’re sure about your choice. You know what you have to do.”
“I…” I can’t breathe. I can’t lose her. Taking a deep breath, I remember her face. Her big dark eyes, her curly hair that I love to play with. Her curvy body that fits mine perfectly. Her love for me. I fell hard and fast.
I can’t breathe. She’s my reason to be. White dots dance in front of my eyes, and my fingers are going numb.
“Breathe, brother. We got you,” Scott states, his hand on my shoulder.
I look deep into his eyes, and I see the pain he is feeling.
My father comes closer to me, his voice low as he speaks, “I’m sorry, son. I would do things differently if we had another choice.” I nod because there’s nothing more I can add. I hate him for making me choose. It’s my choice to join them, but he’s the one making me leave her. I could protect her. “Son, I know what you’re thinking. You can’t protect her if she stays here. I love her, but I’ve already lost one daughter today. I don’t want to lose another one.”
As I nod, I feel the sharp pain of my heart breaking into fragments.
She’ll never forgive me for this.
The sound of my gasping wakes me up, and I am immediately aware of the sweat soaking through my T-shirt and the queasiness in my stomach. Fucking hell. It’s been a while since I dreamed about that day. Eight years have passed, and it’s still fresh in my memory.
Squinting in the darkness, I check my nightstand alarm clock- 2 a.m. A groan escapes from my lips as I turn over to the other side of the bed. I won’t be able to go back to sleep. Glancing at my phone, I notice that Shaan has called twice. Weird. They’re from an hour ago. As one of my security guys, he only bothers to call when something goes wrong at the club.
Putting my pyjama bottoms on, I press his name on the phone.
“Shaan. What is it? It’s 2 a.m.” I press a hand on my face, feeling the weight of exhaustion from the day.
“Boss. We have a problem. You should come,” he says.
“What kind of problem?”
“I can’t say it over the phone, boss.” For fuck’s sake.
“Alright, I’ll be there shortly.”
Without bothering to wake Scott up, I quickly dress myself and grab the keys to my bike before leaving the house.
With each passing mile, the drive seems to get faster, the cold air rushing into my lungs, washing away the remnants of the night.
When I park my motorbike in front of the club, two of my guys are posted at the entrance, checking customer ID’s before letting them enter. I give both of them a quick nod before looking for Shaan. I don’t know what was so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
I spot him at the bar, deep in conversation with the bartender, patiently waiting for me.
“What is it?” I ask without a greeting.
“We found some stuff that should interest you,” he says, his silhouette disappearing as he walks towards the back room.
I enter, looking for anything that would justify my presence at this time of the night. That’s when I spot it. Weapons and drugs.
“What the fuc—” I start before chaos erupts in the club. Shouts and yells come from everywhere. As I open the door, the sound of urgent voices fills the air, and I find myself face-to-face with uniformed officers. A lot of uniforms. “What the hell is going on?” I direct my question to the police officer standing before me. I don’t recognise him.
“Lieutenant General Preston?” he asks.
It’s been a while since someone referred to me by my military rank.
“It’s me. Now, are you going to answer my question, or shall I guess?” My fists are clenched. I can spot the setup from miles away.
“We received an anonymous call. We need to check your club. Here. Everything is written on these papers.” He hands me a two-page long document that makes my blood boil. “If you don’t mind, we need to access the room behind you,” he says, pushing me to the side.
