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“Let me guess,” I said, gaze moving over the roofs of nearby buildings. “Uncle Johnnie is up there somewhere?” I asked.
Back in the day, my father’s crew consisted of Jackson’s dad, the former gang leader, and Johnny Walker Allen who went by the name of Shooter, because of his sharpshooting skills. Literally a killer for hire, he’d been retired for a while now. Except, of course, when it involved his extended family.
“If he’s not already, he will be in five minutes,” my father said. “Who is this?” he asked, nodding toward Barry’s seat.
“I’m Barry, ah, sir,” Barry said, making Jackson snort a little.
“He’s… a friend,” I said, seeing the way Barry brightened at hearing that. “He’s staying in the car,” I added.
“I can keep the engine running for a quick getaway,” he said, nodding.
“Listen, and this is important, you do not sit in the fucking driver’s seat,” I said. “I’m driving.”
I’d once watched Barry pull away from my curb and into traffic. He’d done it at a grandpa’s pace.
“Okay.”
“Do we have a plan?” my old man asked.
“Go in, save the girl,” I said. Then added, “The usual shit.” Because, back in the day, that was “the usual shit” when it came to them finding their women.
“Been a while since we saved the girl,” my father admitted. “Can’t imagine it’s changed much. How you planning on getting in without being seen?”
I chewed the inside of my cheek for a second. “Think Uncle Johnnie might create a little distraction?” I asked.
“Yeah, he could do that,” my father agreed, reaching for his phone and shooting off a text.
“Then we run in and take advantage of their distraction. Did you guys bring—“ I started, then saw them reaching for their guns.
“Alright,” I said, reaching for mine and the extra magazines. “Stay put,” I told Barry, who gave me a nervous nod.
The three of us climbed out of the SUV in unison, my father moving around the car to stand with us on the sidewalk.
“Yo, you planning on having fun without me?” another voice asked, making me turn to find Jackson’s father, Paine, walking up. And, yeah, that was his legal name.
Like I was practically a carbon copy of my old man, Jackson was practically the same of Paine. “What? We dressing up for rescue missions now?” Paine asked, grabbing Jackson by the back of the neck in greeting. “Shoot up there?” he asked, nodding toward the closest building.
“Yep,” my father said.
“So, he’s the distraction, so we can go in?” he asked.
“That’s the plan,” I agreed.
“Any idea the numbers?”
“Five were at my place. Dunno how many more there are.”
“Should be a good time,” my father said as Paine pulled out a gun.
“Don’t worry,” Paine said when my father looked at him. “I got more. I remember these days too.”
“Okay,” I said, nodding. “Give Uncle Johnnie the go ahead,” I said. “Then we run.”
I sucked in a deep breath and rolled my neck.
The shots rang out.
And we ran.
