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The interrogations had started. One by one, each brother was called in for questioning, until I was the last brother left in the holding cell.

It wasn’t a coincidence. Someone had planned all of this from the beginning, down to the cartel soldiers who’d sat in the parking lot.

I waited, letting my eyes shift back and forth.

They wouldn’t catch me off guard. I was going home to my wife after all this was over.

The leader of the street gang drifted towards me.

I kept my eye on him as he ran his hand across the bars of the cell, inching his way over.

This was too predictable, and I wanted to tell him to hurry.

He plopped down on the bench next to me and spread his legs wide.

If this was his intimidation tactic, he needed to work on the scare factor.

The leader made me uncomfortable, but I wouldn’t pull away because his leg was touching mine when Pretty did the same thing all the time.

“How’s your wife, big boy?” he crooned.

There it was—the confirmation that this had all been one big setup. I didn’t respond, watching him out of the corner of my eye as I faced forward.

“She’s hot shit. Diego passed her picture around, offering to pay top dollar if anyone brought her in.

He wants to make her his bitch.” The leader sniffed, but I didn’t give him a reaction.

“Diego was furious when he thought the fucking twerp knocked her up. Wanted to show her what a real man can do.”

I didn’t move, nor did I respond, but when this was all over, I was going home and fucking my wife until I ruined her pussy for anyone else.

“It wasn’t the banker, was it? It was you.

” He laughed manically, and I watched as his two minions moved my way.

Were they going to beat me up? I was up for a fight, and as long as they jumped first, it’d be self-defense.

Hell, I might even sue the city for not protecting me.

I wouldn’t, but the thought brought a smirk to my lips.

The minion on the left kicked the kid in the corner, and that was enough to start the upchucking Grease had been trying to avoid.

The other minion kept shuffling to my right. If they thought they were going to catch me unaware, they were sadly mistaken. I’d been in plenty of fights, and I was twice their size.

I caught a glint out of the corner of my eye as the leader raised a knife to my chest. I grabbed his wrist, squeezing as hard as I could. The minion sucker punched me, blood spurting out of my nose, but I still held onto the leader’s wrist. I wasn’t taking a knife wound to the chest.

I felt my eyes narrow, and when the minion went to punch me again, I leaned back and kicked him in the stomach. I didn’t think I’d hit him that hard, but he went flying back, landing against the front of the holding cell, rattling the bars. How no one heard the noise, I had no fucking clue.

I slid further down on the bench, creating a space between my chest and the knife. Slamming the leader’s wrist against the bars behind me, I balled my fist and smashed it into his face. It was enough for him to loosen his hold on the knife, and it went flying across the cell.

The minion I had kicked picked it up, charging towards me. I drove my fist into the leader one last time before I stood, ducking the minion’s attempt to knife me. He ran into his buddy, stabbing the knife into his stomach.

“You fucking idiot,” the leader screamed at him.

The minion wasn’t too bright because I watched as he pulled the knife straight out, turning to face me again.

I had forgotten the third guy, and when he jumped on my back, my first instinct was to drive him backwards into the bars at the front of the cell repeatedly.

The minion with the knife charged forward, and I saw my life flash before my eyes. Meredith, round with my kid. Seeing her smile over flowers. A house in the club neighborhood with my kids running around outside. It renewed my efforts. This wasn’t how I was going down.

I rammed the minion on my back against the bars and waited until the other one was close enough.

As soon as he was within arm’s length, I flipped the other minion over my neck and let him crash land into his partner.

They hit the concrete in a heap of limbs, and I leaned against the front of the cell, breathing hard.

Waiting for the next round, I placed my hands on my knees, and that’s was when I saw the blood dripping onto the floor.

Trying to figure out where it was coming from, I ran my hands down my body until I hissed from the pain.

The knife had sliced my side, and while I didn’t think it was too bad, it definitely hurt.

Every time they tried to sort themselves, they ended up tripping over each other.

Their leader never moved from his spot on the bench at the opposite side of the cell.

He was holding his wound, moaning about how this wasn’t worth the payout.

I didn’t have the heart to tell him. When this was over, I was going to make him pay.

I didn’t know how much longer I could continue in my condition, but I wasn’t giving up. As I was leaning against the front of the cell, I heard the door open at the end of the hallway.

The officer stopped at the lock on the cell. “You’re still here, Jonathan.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” I turned so that I could see everyone from my spot, holding my side. I didn’t trust the street gang wouldn’t try something behind my back, and the officer wouldn’t look out for my best interests.

The cell door slid open. “Come here and turn around,” the guard said to me.

I wasn’t excited about not facing him, but I followed instructions.

The fucker wrenched my arm back, pulling at the wound on my side.

“You fell. The cameras are off.” He waited a beat and then he said, “Jonathan Barnett, your lawyer is here.”