Tires squealed down the driveway as an older model blue pickup sped off. Three men hung on for dear life, hooting and hollering as the driver kicked up dust. They were too far away for me to get a good look at the plate.

“It’s a damn rock!” Cruz said from behind me. I turned to see him tossing a baseball-sized stone back out the broken window.

Vanessa stood, having never gone into the bedroom as instructed. As she wiped glass shards from her clothing and pulled them from her hair, she gave me what I assumed was a reassuring look. However, the fear was evident in her eyes. I went to her and scooped her up in my arms, kissing her and placing a hand over her stomach.

Her eyes shot toward Cruz, who until now, had no clue about our relationship.

Cruz walked past, radioing Commander Phillips. “Dude, you weren’t fooling anybody.” He continued down the hallway.

That’s exactly what I’d been afraid of, but right now, I was more worried about Vanessa and the baby. I pulled her to me and rocked her. Her breathing slowed, and she pushed me away. “I’m alright. Go take care of business.” She smiled. I kissed her on the forehead and followed Cruz.

“What’s Phillips saying?” I asked as I entered my room. Cruz had his go bag open, tossing clothes on top of his guns and ammo.

“Does ‘Warrior Pride’ mean anything to you?” Cruz asked.

I stopped. I hadn’t heard that in years. “Yeah, but… what?”

“I don’t know, man. He said he couldn’t talk right now, he’d call me back, and then as I was hanging up he said, ‘Warrior Pride.’”

“That’s my high school motto.” Mentally, I scanned what I knew about the high school. “There’s a payphone!”

Cruz stared at me for a moment, and I thought I’d have to explain to him what a payphone was. Thankfully, he spoke up before that became necessary. “He’s bugged.” We both took our phones out of our pockets and turned them off.

Less than ten minutes later, Cruz and I had his truck and Ma’s car full of whatever we could fit in them. I passed him carrying Vanessa’s bag, with her trailing behind him shouting something about not being an invalid. “Just following orders, ma’am.” Poor Cruz shrank under her stare. I gladly passed them by and went inside for the last box, careful not to make eye contact with either of them.

“Martin!” Vanessa called after me as I hurried through the house.

“You don’t need to be carrying anything, hun. You’ve had enough stress. Just go sit in the car.” I hoped that would placate her.

“Martin!” she screamed, and I came running.

A different black SUV with dark tint rolled up my driveway. This was not a car I’d seen, and my gut told me who would exit the brand-new Escalade.

Cruz tossed the bag down and shoved Vanessa behind Ma’s car. Although I’d hated driving the ancient thing around town, with the broken AC and tape deck, at that moment I was very happy that Ma still had the heavy metal 80s Camry.

Cruz and I communicated quickly with our eyes; he’d get Vanessa out of there while I held off Amara. As I crossed their path, he was tugging at the passenger door to help Vanessa in. I turned my gaze toward the approaching Escalade, careful not to let on that Cruz and Vanessa were exposed to my right side.

The Escalade barely came to a stop when the driver’s door opened. A new goon, bigger and wider than both the old ones combined, exited and opened the back door. Amara, quite tall and menacing in his own right, emerged. The way he slunk out of the car, I had no choice but to take him all in. Shiny black shoes, then a long black coat, were visible beyond the door, then a pair of leather gloves, and black hair – just as glossy as the shoes – came forward.

“At last we meet, Mr. Martin.” Amara flicked a hand, and the mountainous bodyguard handed him a black double stack mag 9mm.

My heart pounded, and I fought the urge to look in Vanessa’s direction. The car still hadn’t started up. They needed more time.

“The pleasure’s all yours, I’m sure, Junior.” I saw the flinch quickly pass over Amara’s features. I was right. If there was one thing a man like Amara would hate, it was being compared to his father and being found wanting.

Amara quickly recovered and raised his weapon chest high. “I thought I told you to stay out of this.”

“Who’s the new muscle?” I jerked my head toward the massive guard standing to Amara’s side. “Downsizing in the Mafia? Who’da thunk it.” I threw my head back in an exaggerated laugh.

“You’re a lucky shot, Martin, and I owe you for that, but you won’t be as lucky this time around. With Brock here, I don’t need another associate. He’s the size of two men, easily.”

“Sure is,” I stalled, reaching for my gun. “Easier to hit that way, though.” I drew my weapon slowly.

“Better be careful there, Martin. My sources tell me you have no way of calling for help. Wouldn’t want any accidents.” Amara took a phone out of his pocket and waved it at me, admitting that he’d been listening to us. He stepped closer.

“Don’t even!” I ordered him to stop. “I’ll shoot!” I stepped closer to him as well, setting my jaw in an ‘I don’t care if you shoot me, go ahead’ expression.

Amara clicked his teeth and inched closer. “When will you learn that you’re nothing in this? I’m after her, and I get what I want.”

Amara turned abruptly and pointed his weapon through the rear windshield of Ma’s car, directly at Vanessa’s head.