Page 18 of Brick (Chosen Few #5)

N atalie sat in the middle row of the SUV with Brick beside her. A shiver ran through her. They were driving through downtown Detroit. Her son was here... somewhere. Scared, hungry, wanting her and trapped with strangers. It was all too much.

The sidewalk went from smooth and well-kept to chipped and cracked, and the buildings became dilapidated and seedy.

Zain pulled into the same parking garage Keetan had entered the previous night. Her muscles stiffened. Logic told her she wouldn’t find Bray bopping through the parking spaces, but she scanned the place nonetheless.

“You’re gonna have to wait here.” Brick’s soothing voice made her want to melt, yet his words put her on alert.

She hadn’t expected to storm the building with a real-life A-team. But how could she just sit here and twiddle her thumbs while not having any idea what was happening inside?

“I don’t like that idea.”

“I know.” Brick’s phone vibrated, and he reached into his pocket. “It’s Ghost.” He brought the phone to his ear. “What’s up?”

Zain pulled into a parking spot. Natalie’s pulse raced.

“Hang on,” Brick said to Ghost. “I’m in the car with everyone so I’m going to put you on speaker.” He hit the button and held out the phone so everyone could hear.

“I did some digging,” Ghost said. “It looks like our hunch was right and the apartment building east of the parking garage is where they took the kid.”

“How do you know?”

“Took some work, but I went through Keetan’s phone records and saw he’s made several calls over the last two days to someone named Justin Crater. He lives in unit113, main floor.”

Natalie sucked in a breath. Holy crap. They were so close. A deep pull insider her told her to leap from the vehicle and bang on Justin’s door. She wound her hands together in her lap.

Brick must have sensed her agitation because he covered her hands with one of his and squeezed. “All right. We’re heading in—”

“Hang on,” Ghost said. “You don’t know what you’re walking into. Justin Crater runs Club East. One of the biggest gangs in Detroit.”

Natalie grabbed her stomach. “Oh god,” she moaned. The inside of the SUV grew increasingly small, the sides closing in around her and the oxygen leaving the space.

She was vaguely aware of Brick hanging up, of the guys talking, but she couldn’t hear properly over the blood pumping against her eardrums.

One thing never shifted: Brick’s hand on hers. If it weren’t for the firm weight of his warm palm, she’d have passed out.

Brick’s other thumb moved over her cheek, and she snapped her attention to his face. Zain and Taschen were outside the SUV. She must have blanked for several seconds because she didn’t remember them getting out.

“Hey,” he said, the simple word a tether to him. “It’s going to be fine.”

“A gang?” she squeaked. “Why? I don’t—Oh, god. I can’t understand why he’d bring Bray here.” She sniffed and shook her head.

“I don’t know, but I promise we’ll find out.”

She couldn’t wrap her head around Keetan’s twisted reasoning. All she could do was pray like she’d never prayed before.

“Can I take the dog?” Brick asked.

She frowned, confused, but allowed him to pluck Bray’s stuffed dog from her lap. She’d bought it before he was born. “Yes. His name is Rocky.”

He tucked the animal into the front of his vest. “Rocky’s going to be reunited with his owner soon. We’re going to make this quick. Just stay here no matter what.”

She nodded. He pulled her close to his chest and she inhaled his scent, letting the warm pine surround her. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on as if her life depended on it. As if somehow, she could transfer her energy to him to deliver to Bray.

As if Brick were hers.

“No matter what... just come back.”

He kissed her temple. “Nothing’s keeping me away. Sit tight. We’ll lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone.”

If the circumstances weren’t so outrageous, she’d have laughed. But she couldn’t do anything but mourn his warmth as he slid from her arms and out of the SUV.

She watched as he skulked across the parking garage, his AR-15 slung across his body. He hopped over the short cement wall and headed east, falling into step with the other two formidable men. A little bit of the tension in her shoulders eased.

Please, God. Bring home my boy—both of them.

***

Brick moved across the alleyway behind the parking garage. The sun was low on the horizon, but they still had plenty of time before dark. Logic would insist they wait. Instinct won. Bray had been gone too long, and if they didn’t find him soon, who knew how bad things could get?

He stomped across the asphalt, his steps in sync with Taschen’s and Zain’s. His thighs radiated with energy. Urgency pushed him to lead the group as they approached the apartment building.

Marching into gang territory locked and loaded was a shoot-out waiting to happen.

“I see you ladies comin’ up,” Ghost said in his ear. Ghost’s job was to man the cameras. As soon as he saw them cross the security footage, it’d be lights out for surveillance. “I suggest you enter the east door, closest to you. Apartment113 is only four doors down on your right.”

“Got it.” Brick reached for the door handle and pulled it open—not much security here.

Zain pressed his back to the exterior wall. “You two head in. I’ll come in through the balcony.”

Brick gave a brisk nod. They didn’t know how many gang members they were up against, so having Zain as backup was a good plan.

“Oh, shit man!” someone cried from the parking lot.

“Fuck,” Taschen spat.

Brick pivoted and aimed his AR-15. He didn’t shout or utter a threat. No need, because the man darted into his car and peeled away.

“Better move quick,” Taschen said. “He could be calling his buddies inside.”

Brick grunted, opened the door again, and entered the cold cement stairwell. With his weapon aimed in front of him, he skirted around the staircase. He paused to glance upward, then advanced on the door that led to the hallway.

Taschen’s footsteps moved softly behind him, offering him silent confirmation to keep moving at the same pace. He cracked open the door a few inches and surveyed the empty hall. Voices sounded from the paper-thin units, but no one wandered.

Taschen’s foot caught the lip of the door and held it open. Brick sailed through. He moved swiftly down the hall, his booted footfalls cushioned by the threadbare carpet. Bitter cigarette smoke and the pungent odor of marijuana hung in the air.

He closed in on apartment113. His pulse thundered against his eardrums. Static crackled softly in the earpiece. He listened for sounds from inside. Only the drone of a sports announcer on TV reached his ears.

There was no good way to do this. Best to just catch everyone off guard. He took a step back and then stomped his foot against the thin wooden door.

The hinges gave way and the wood flew open, sending shards skittering across the floor. Four men staggered up from a couch and an armchair. Three withdrew weapons and ducked behind the furniture, and one darted for the balcony and leapt over the railing.

“Hands up!” Brick boomed.

Crack! Crack!

He dodged into the kitchen off the entry way. The bullets smacked off drywall. Taschen knelt beside him and returned fire. Sweat broke out on Brick’s brow. Where the hell was Bray? They needed to contain the exchange of gunshots ASAP.

He tightened his grip on the rifle and signaled to Taschen he was going in. Taschen nodded and held his fire.

Brick peeked around the wall. No one moved but hushed cries sounded, telling him Taschen had hit one of the guys. He looked at the balcony. Zain stealthily climbed over the railing and moved through the open glass door to approach the men from behind.

Brick smirked and sidled around the kitchen wall.

“Drop your weapons, douchebags,” Zain commanded.

The men jolted as Brick came around the side of the couch. “Now,” Brick said.

One man held up his hands. Another, who looked stoned, followed suit. The third man lay on the floor, his back against the couch and his eyes staring lifelessly toward the balcony. Blood soaked the front of his white T-shirt.

“On your feet,” Brick said to the other two.

Brick and Zain held the men at gunpoint while Taschen moved in behind them. He swiped their weapons from their hands and patted them down.

Brick wouldn’t waste time chasing the runner. “Where’s the boy?” he demanded.

Both men compressed their lips. Fury and hope mixed within him. They weren’t speaking up, but they also weren’t denying he was in the apartment.

He pointed the AR-15 at the man whose hard, confident demeanor screamed he was the leader. “Are you Justin?”

The man’s jaw hardened.

“Talk,” Brick growled, “and I won’t put a bullet through your thigh.” When Justin didn’t speak, Brick approached and placed the mouth of his weapon against the man’s femur.

“All right,” he snapped. “Yeah. I’m Justin. Who the fuck wants to know?”

Brick met Justin’s eyes. “Me,” he snarled. “Where’s my son?”

The guy’s gaze sharpened, and he pulled back his shoulders in defiance. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Liar.

Flipping his gun around, he jammed the butt of it into Justin’s kneecap. The weapon connected with bone, creating a sickening crunch .

“Ah! Christ,” Justin screamed.

“Let’s try again, fucker. Where’s my boy?”

Justin’s breath hissed through his teeth. “I don’t know shit, man. I’m just watching the kid.”

Brick turned his attention to the friend, who kept his hands raised. “He’s right. We were just told to watch him for a couple’a days.”

“Do you realize he was stolen from his mother? Both of you could be charged for kidnapping and probably a hell of a lot more.”

“Man,” the friend blurted. “That’s not what we were told. Keetan said he needed to hide the kid from his crazy mother.”

Brick’s vision flickered. “Where is he?” This time the question came out thin. Desperate. “Where’s the little boy?”

Justin lifted his hands. “I ain’t no kidnapper.” He jerked his head toward the hallway. “Last room at the end.”

Brick’s chest constricted. Fear numbed him.

Taschen nodded. “Go ahead, dude. Get your boy. I’ve got this.”

Justin’s friend tsked. “Shit, man. I can’t believe that bastard Keetan.”

Brick didn’t wait another minute. He moved down the hall. The sound of his footsteps echoed around him. He felt as if he’d swallowed a bees’ nest. He paused at the door. Caution warned him this could be a trap.

But his sixth sense told him otherwise. Told him he was about to meet his son. Despite knowing he might meet a bullet on the other side of the door, he lowered his weapon.

***

Natalie chewed her thumbnail as she stared out the windshield. Minutes ago, she’d sworn she’d heard gunshots. She’d crawled into the front seat because she couldn’t stand being even one row away. At least from here she could see a little farther in the direction the guys had gone.

God, what if Brick and his team had been shot? What if Bray got caught in the line of fire? Her nerves jumped, making her unable to sit still.

They’d been gone ten minutes.

What’s happening?

Her phone rang and she startled, fumbling the cell phone. She nearly dropped the damn thing into the footwell. Righting the device, she stared at the screen.

Ellie.

She’d never been so relieved and so pissed to see her sister’s number. Part of her had feared it was Brick calling to give her bad news, the other hoping he was calling to assure her Bray was safe. She answered on speakerphone. “Hello?”

“Hey, I hope this isn’t a bad time,” Ellie replied, her voice tight.

“I don’t think there’s a good time.” She gave a loose laugh, belying the unease raising her blood pressure. “Actually, Brick and his team just went into the building to get Bray.”

“I was hoping you had news.”

“Not yet. But you’ll be the first to know.” She kept her gaze on the parking lot—still no sign of Brick or his team.

“I wish I were there with you. Give that baby boy a big squeeze from Auntie.” Her sister’s voice caught, and Natalie sensed that Ellie had the same fear as she did.

That Bray might not come home.

“It’s going to be okay,” Ellie said, as if reading her mind. “We just have to keep faith and pray. Do you want to let me go?”

Natalie sniffled. Pressure expanded in her chest. Sitting there crying over the phone wasn’t going to help anyone and would only make Ellie feel like crap. “Yeah. I should have news soon.”

“Okay. I’ll hang up. Just let me know as soon as you can. Even if it’s just a text.” Ellie was the last person to press someone when times were hard. The fact she’d even called showed how much her sister was struggling.

“I will. I promise.”

“Love you,” Ellie said, and hung up.

Natalie lowered the phone in her lap as the screen went dark. She lifted her gaze once again to the parking lot.

Brick, please hurry.