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We crawl into bed, the sheets cool against our still-flushed skin. Ice pulls me close, his arms a fortress as he holds me tight against the uncertainties that await us with dawn’s light. Lying in each other’s arms, we become one with the darkness.

His voice brushes against my ear. “Things are gonna get dangerous tomorrow, Bella. I want you to know… I care about you. A lot.”

I pause, unsure of how much I should tell him. Confessing my love feels like I’d be putting too much pressure on him. I don’t want him distracted tomorrow, so I simply say, “I care about you too, Ice.”

“Still thinking of leaving after?” he asks.

The question hangs between us, heavy and charged.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I confess, a note of despair in my voice. “One day at a time is all I can manage right now.”

“Sometimes that’s the best way,” he says, his breath warm against my skin. As he drifts toward sleep, his final words anchor me despite the tempest roiling inside me. “I hope you stay.”

I hope you stay.

If I could, I would, but I’m stuck at the crossroads, weighing my options. If I stay, what will my life look like? Willwe ever truly be free, or will Juan always be there, a shadow waiting to strike?

As much as I wish I had a clear choice, I don’t. A clean break would mean that I won’t ever have to deal with Juan again, but that would also mean losing Ice. I don’t know if I can handle that, not after everything we’ve been through together. At least I don’t have to decide yet. I can wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Chapter 18: Ice

The low purr of engines fades into the night as we kill the ignition, leaving only the distant hoot of an owl to cut through the silence. The Bayou Enterprise Warehouse is several blocks away, but this is as close as we dare to get. We park in the shadows, our bikes nestled between towering buildings, resting on crumbling asphalt.

I swing my leg over with a silent grace born from years of riding. Vapor’s right beside me, his tall frame unfolding from his bike like a blade sliding from its sheath—sharp, precise, deadly. Diablo follows, his movements a study in controlled power, every motion deliberate. We check our gear without a word, the tension winding through us like coiled springs waiting for release.

My eyes meet Vapor’s. I trust him to lead the team in another successful mission. He wants justice, craves it like a living thing, and I feel exactly the same way. Diablo’s ready too, a silent sentinel whose very presence promises retribution. We’re brothers in this fight, bound by loyalty and the shared scars of past battles.

We silently weave through a maze of alleyways before hiding across from the cartel’s warehouse. Guards patrol the perimeter, their movements lazy and unaware. I’ve memorized their patterns, studied their shifts. Nothing’s changed. They’re still predictable, which makes them vulnerable.

I carry a mental map of what lies ahead. Aware of every breath I take, I wait until the entire team gets into their positions. This isn’t just a mission for us; for some of these guys it’s personal. They’ve lost family members to the cartel, so they want revenge as much as they want justice. I get it. Their brothers and sisters, mother and father could still be alive if the cartel hadn’t gotten hold of them.

“We’re ready,” I whisper to Vapor. “No mistakes.”

“Always,” he murmurs back before pressing his lips into a tight smile. Behind that smile, I know he’s remembering Demi, the sister he couldn’t save. It fuels him, a fire that never dies.

Diablo grunts in agreement, his smoldering eyes betraying no emotion but echoing a promise of violence if needed. He’s put down plenty of cartel men, but more always seem to pop up when we least expect it. Hopefully we don’t run into any surprises tonight.

“Is the other team ready?” Vapor asks.

I fire off a quick text and wait for Bones to respond.

“In position,” Bones replies. “Fang’s slicing into their security now. Tank’s ready to roll on your go.”

“Copy that. Go in two minutes.” I shove the phone into my cut. Sometimes, trusting Fang’s tech wizardry feels like relying on smoke and mirrors, but his skills are solid. He’s never let us down before, so he won’t now. That’s the kind of faith we have in each other.

The silence is haunting, a stillness that belies the chaos we’re about to unleash. A distant dog’s bark punctuates the night, a lonely counterpoint to the city’s thrum beyond. Somewhere, a siren wails, dying away as quickly as it came. My pulse keeps time with these sporadic bursts of life, a reminder that the world spins on, oblivious to the battle we fight in its dark corners.

As we edge closer to go time, anticipation coils in my gut. Vapor and Diablo flank me, shadows within shadows, as we slink behind dumpsters and past cars, closing in on the factory. This is what we do—what we live for.

Their shift change is coming up, right on time. The first line of guards, silhouettes etched against the faint glow of security lights, meets up with the second. They exchange a few words, but we’re too far away to hear anything. The new shift takes their positions, while the others head inside.

My pulse quickens, adrenaline spiking as I signal my brothers with a subtle nod. This is it, the moment where plans crash into reality, where every practiced move must be executed flawlessly.

“Three… two…” I count down in my head, muscles tensing, ready to spring.

One.

We strike with the precision of a clock’s gears at midnight, a silent symphony of violence. I take point, closing in on the nearest guard, my movements honed from years of street-forged brawls and clubhouse scraps. His eyes widen an instant before my hand clamps over his mouth, cutting off his cry for help. My other arm wraps around his neck, a vise of inevitability, and with a swift jerk, he goes limp, a puppet with its strings cut.