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I’m driving us to a warehouse where a meeting will go down with a rival gang who’s trying to move in on the syndicate’s territory.
Berisha’s taking the lead, with Sadiki and Idrizi behind us.
“You stay by my side, Danny,” Joseph says, his voice tight with worry. “We’ll let John handle the fuckers.”
“Are you expecting things to go bad?” I ask.
“I can’t see any way it will turn out good for both parties.” Instead of sitting in the back, Joseph’s in the passenger seat, and I watch as he takes two guns to check the clips.
When I stop our car behind Berisha’s, Joseph hands me one of the guns. “If they start shooting, you kill as many of them as you can.”
“Got it.” Handling this the same way I’d handle a bust, I double-check the gun and clip, making sure the safety’s off.
Climbing out of the car, we join Berisha, who’s already staring down the gang members. There are five of us against eight of them. I assess every man before focusing on the leader.
Shit’s about to get real.
My muscles tighten, ready for action, while my heartbeat starts speeding up.
“Bro, pack up your shit and leave my hood,” the leader says, his chin lifted in a dare.
Berisha lets out a lazy chuckle. “You leave.”
The gang banger looks back at his men, shaking his head. “Can you believe this motherfucker?”
Noticing a number eight tattooed on all their necks, I assume it’s their gang insignia.
Eight.
Leaning closer to Joseph, I whisper, “I think this is the entire gang.”
“You got something to say, motherfucker?” the leader shouts at me, drawing his weapon and pointing at my feet.
My fingers flex around the handle of my gun, and I just stare at the stupid fucker while adrenaline starts flooding my veins.
“Enough talking,” Berisha mutters, and then all hell breaks loose as he plants a bullet between the leader's eyes.
I grab Joseph’s arm and yank him behind our car. Shoving him down, I use the vehicle as cover and quickly look for a clear shot. Training my barrel on the nearest gangster as he runs to take cover behind his own car, I take the shot, the bullet slamming into his back. He sprawls over the concrete floor, his weapon sliding beneath a Cadillac.
Joseph moves to get up, and it has me barking, “Stay the fuck down.” I duck as one of the fuckers opens fire on us.
Joseph laughs, shaking his head while letting out a holler of excitement.
Our eyes meet for a moment, and I see trust shining from his before I dart up to fire another shot. Two gangsters have taken cover, taking turns to open fire on us.
I glance at Berisha, who nods his head toward the gangsters, showing for me to move. He opens fire on them to distract them, and I break out into a run. Nearing the vehicle, I drop to my side, and the momentum has me sliding into place. My breaths burst from me, my heart thundering in my ears. Through the gap between the car and the floor, I take my shots, hitting them both in their ankles. As they drop, I empty my clip in their bodies.
When silence falls in the warehouse, I focus on calming my breaths as I move onto my knees. Lifting my eyes, it’s to meet Joseph’s as he walks toward me.
Holding out his hand, he pulls me up and instantly throws his arms around me in a brotherly hug. “Fucking knew you wouldn’t let me down.” Pulling back, his hands settle on the sides of my neck, pride shining from his eyes. “My brother.”
Berisha comes to pat me on the shoulder, and even he looks impressed. “You did good. Second test passed.”
“Like I said he would,” Joseph brags, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
Glancing to where the bodies are scattered on the floor, I wait for the guilt to hit, but it doesn’t.
Joseph's pride draws a smile from me, then he shoves me toward the driver’s side of our car. “Let’s get out of here.”
We all head back to Jezebel’s to celebrate, and while I have Joseph alone, I ask, “You knew it would be my second test?”
He nods. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Is that why you were so tense?”
He gives me a grin. “I never doubted you, Danny.” Our eyes lock for a moment, and the bond between us intensifies. “I knew you’d man up to the task.”
Knowing I have Joseph’s trust and now Berisha’s as well, it eases the knot in my stomach from worrying about being caught out.
“What’s next?” I ask, pulling the car into the alley next to the club.
“There will be a party where the new soldiers are welcomed. You’ll get your third task from Zef, who’s the boss's right-hand man.”
Keeping my expression neutral, I ask, “Who’s the boss?”
