Page 14

14

Lyon

I sat down for a moment and closed my eyes, finally allowing myself a brief rest—I couldn’t even remember the last time I had slept. Maybe two minutes of sleep would do me good. The next thing I knew, voices were waking me up.

“Hey, I’m glad you got some sleep, even if it was in a chair. How do you feel?” Raven asked.

“I feel like crap. Has anything good happened?” I replied.

“No, well, maybe. I just got a call from that girl who went to the hospital. She said the place she was in was Englewood—she remembered because she overheard a man asking why were they in Englewood instead of the city,” Raven explained.

“What did he say?” I asked.

“She said he got punched in the face for mentioning where they were.”

“The others are getting ready,” someone added.

“Who’s that?” I inquired.

“That will be us. I met you at the hospital; this is my partner, Chris. We’re Niki’s uncles—and both former FBI agents. Thanks for letting us tag along,” Michael said, walking into the room.”

“It’s good to meet you,” I said, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. We left immediately, and I asked, “Do we have any address or area?”

“No. But she mentioned that when she looked out the window, she saw a large property full of trees.”

“So it won’t be right in Englewood—it’ll be on the outskirts where they can have a bigger property,” I mused, pulling onto the freeway.

Two hours later, we were driving the back roads of Englewood. Without a precise address, this was going to take forever.

“We can’t talk to the local police because we don’t know if they’re paid off. Who can we question? Maybe we could ask people in the neighborhood—locals will talk if they’re suspicious of their neighbors,” Michael suggested.

“If we see families outside, concerned about what’s going on next door, we’ll stop and talk to them,” Michael said.

That’s exactly what we did. We pulled over and asked a few questions whenever we spotted neighbors standing outside. Most complained about trivial matters—like how one neighbor mowed his lawn—but nothing that pointed us in the right direction.

As the sun began to set, I noticed a group of men acting strangely. “Check out those guys on your right—what are they doing?” I asked.

“It looks like they’re loading that coffin-like box into a truck. I think we’ve found Niki,” Michael observed.

I pulled over and approached the men. “Excuse me, can you tell me where Niki Street is?” I asked.

“Get the fuck away from us,” one of them snarled.

Before I could press further, I heard a woman's cry: “Niki, sweetheart, are you in this box?” That was all the encouragement I needed—I punched both men, and they went down immediately.

“Lyon, more are in the house. One is the leader, and his name is Luke. I can’t breathe,” Michael growled as he ran and got something to open the box.

Michael was already prying the lid off when we rushed inside. At first, the house was eerily silent, but then chaos erupted. We took out everyone before they even knew what hit them. As we swept through the rest of the house, a noise made me pause—I knew Luke was waiting behind a door, ready to kill us.

I signaled to Raven, who was positioned near the door. “I don’t think there’s anyone else here,” he said, feigning calm. Then, as he opened and closed the door, he remarked, “Wow, I can’t believe she was in that homemade coffin.” I waited a few seconds, and when Luke finally stepped through the doorway, Raven shot him dead.

“I was going to shoot him,” I said.

Raven replied, “I saved you the trouble of killing another person. I’ll call the FBI—you go check on Niki.”

I stepped outside and found Michael holding Niki. I rushed to her side, my head spinning. “Who is that?” she asked.

“It’s me, sweetheart,” I whispered. Michael wiped his eyes while Chris stood on the other side of the vehicle, clearly upset. I glanced down and saw that both men were dead—good, they deserved it.

“Did you kill him?” Niki asked.

“Yeah, he’s dead.”

“Good, my case is closed. Can you call Joseph?” she said.

“Raven is doing that. Let me hold you,” I replied, taking her into my arms as she settled closer to me.

“Lyon, I’m glad you showed up when you did. They were going to bury me. How did you even find this place?”

“Luck—God sent us here. He knew you were here and needed us,” I replied, leaning down and gently kissing her forehead. “I’m taking you to the hospital as soon as the FBI arrives.”

“What about an ambulance?” she asked.

“No, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

“I must look like a mess—there isn’t a spot on me that doesn’t hurt. Is my whole face swollen?”

“Yep, but you’re still beautiful,” I said, kissing her forehead again. “Plus, you still have a blonde wig on.”

“Can you please take it off? Are Uncle Michael and Uncle Chris still crying?”

I glanced over at them; they were both wiping their eyes. “They’re done crying,” I remarked as I gently removed her wig, letting her long braid fall free.

“Lyon, my arms are broken—and my fingers are all pulled out of their sockets,” she whispered.

“Can I see your left arm, sweetie?” Chris asked as he gently touched her hand.

I couldn’t help but wonder why she held her arms so protectively; I was sure she had more broken bones than she let on.

Just then, a car skidded to a stop beside us, and Raeann, along with her FBI buddies, hurried over.

“How do you feel, honey?” Raeann asked, her eyes fixed on Niki as she inhaled sharply.

“Mom, I’m fine. Lyon is taking me to the hospital. Can you come with us?” Niki replied.

“Of course I will. Joseph can take care of things here, and the girls and I will follow you,” Raeann assured her.

“What girls?” Niki asked, confused.

“My FBI team,” she answered.

“All of them?”

“Yes. Say hello to them.”

“Sage, are you here?” Niki whispered.

“Yes, sweetie,” came the gentle reply.

“Emma, Brinley, Skye—are all of you here?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. Please go home to your families. I love all of you so much for coming to find me.”

“We have to go,” I said. Raven climbed into the driver’s seat, and we drove off.

I looked down at Niki, and she was already sleeping.