I watched the car drive off as I started across the road. I stood in the entrance to the alleyway, staring at the outline of the man as the end of the road. He was staring at me. Watching me with those dark brown eyes. I pulled out my phone and sent a text message to my security team, telling them where I was and that they needed to call the police.

Then I pulled up a voice recording, turned it on, and shoved it back into my pocket.

I started down the alleyway as the shadow took off to the left. I ran to the end and took a sharp turn, following it all the way down to an open door. The darkness beyond the door frame was black. Blacker than the depths of space and thicker than the blood I bathed in to get out of that life I used to live. I stepped off the street and followed the hallway, leaving the door and the traffic and the blaring horns behind me.

I had nothing. I wasn’t armed and I wasn’t prepared. But I knew this had to end. For my sake and for the sake of Joanna. Our unborn child. The live she would need to live in order to raise that kid properly. I heard footsteps echoing beyond as I navigated the dark abandoned building. And as I walked into an open room with nothing but glass crunching under my feet, I saw him.

Standing there.

With a gun trained at my head.

“I see you’re armed,” I said.

“I see you’re not.”

“That’s not how men in my world handle issues like this.”

“Do men in your world frequently kill their own in the middle of the streets?” Slate asked.

“Depends on who you ask. And how you define ‘kill’.”

“Still see you have that sense of humor.”

“Who said I was joking?” I asked.

Slate snickered as I held my hands up by my side.

“Never thought I’d see the day when Boulder would surrender.”

“I haven’t been that man for a long time,” I said.

“Coming unprepared wasn’t wise.”

“Maybe your definition of ‘prepared’ is different than mine.”

“What? Did you think we were going to sit? Have some coffee? Talk this through?” Slate asked.

“I thought I might be able to talk you into a manly conversation,” I said.

“Nothing you do is manly.”

“Funny. I could’ve said the same thing about you.”

I walked around Slate, watching him as his gun followed me. His eyes were trained on me as his back turned to the only entrance and exit into this room. I stopped moving and hoped to the fucking heavens my phone was picking up this damn conversation.

Because it was the only way I would put Slate behind bars.

“Why did you do it?” Slate asked.

“Why did I leave to make a better life for myself?” I asked.

“Why did you kill my brother?”

“Your brother killed himself when he thought he could control my actions with the action end of a fucking gun.”

“You abandoned us to go get educated, and you expect me to tolerate your jokes!?”

“Again, who said I was joking?” I asked.

I heard Slate’s gun cock as I stood my ground.

“Getting educated. That’s a pretty dumb reason to be upset with someone,” I said.

“You know damn good and well that’s not where my issue lies.”

“Yeah, yeah. Your brother,” I said.

“The blood you spilled in the streets will be paid for in your own.”

“That your epitaph or something?” I asked.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Do you know what an epitaph is?”

“I said stop it.”

“It’s a phrase people engrave on a tombstone after someone dies.”

“Shut up!” Slate said.

I watched his gun lower to my chest as his hand began to shake. I had to stall. I had to buy more time. The moment he shot at me I would run at him, and I would kill him with my bare hands before I bled out onto this desolate concrete floor. I didn’t want my last action to be taking another life. I had done enough of that surviving the streets as a teenager.

I didn’t want Joanna’s last story about me to be actions from the man I was trying to get away from.

To be better than.

“Your brother was like me, you know.”

“What?” Slate asked.

“Yeah. We talked a lot. He was a dreamer, like me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Him and I would sit on the curb in the middle of the night when we couldn’t sleep and talk about all the things we wanted to do. He wanted to be a firefighter, did you know that?”

I watched Slate’s hand waver as I drew in a deep breath.

“Said he wanted to do his time, pay his dues, and get out so he could save people’s lives. Run into scenarios no one else would. He did that for you guys, but he wanted to do it for others, too.”

“You’re lying,” Slate said.

“Look in my eyes. Do I look like I’m lying?”

“He was dedicated to that group, just like I was. He wanted to run those streets someday.”

“No. He wanted to save those streets someday. It was his idea, you know.”

“What?”

“Fighting my way out. I asked for his advice one time about it. I told him about my want to go to college. To get out and make something with my bare hands that contributed to society. And you know what he said?”

“Shut the fuck up, Boulder.”

“He said, ‘if it’s something you really care about, you’ll have to fight for it. In or out, you’ll have to fight. Always’.”

Slate bellowed into the room a piercing cry that shook my core. He popped off a warning shot just beyond my shoulder, grazing my neck so closely I could feel the fucking wind from it. He leveled the gun back at my head as tears rose in his eyes. I had hit a chord with him. Struck a nerve that had him rattled.

I just hoped my fucking security guys were around the corner. Because I was almost out of options.

“I did what I had to do to get out and create a better life for myself. For my family. And your brother? He would’ve done the same, given the chance.”

“You have no family,” Slate said.

“That isn’t true anymore,” I said. “I have one, and even you know it. You guys were nothing but a bunch of thugs preying on the lost souls of distraught teenagers who had nowhere else to turn and no legacy to leave behind if they were killed in the streets. Children doing your damn dirty business like the cowards you all were.”

“Someone has to pay for my brother’s death,” he said.

“And someone has to pay for threatening the woman who’s carrying my child. Who do you think’s going to pick up that tab?”

“Sure as hell isn’t going to be me.”

“Funny, because I was thinking the exact opposite.”

“I could’ve done worse, you know. When I yanked her off the fucking street. She was so airheaded. Walking around like nothing could go wrong with her. She’s sheltered. Vulnerable. She was an easy target. But killing her wouldn’t have been nearly as enjoyable as killing you.”

My vision dripped with red as I took a step towards Slate.

A door slammed off in the distance and Slate blew another bullet in my direction. I jumped off to the side, my feet carrying me as fast as they could. He shot one after another, emptying his magazine before trading it out for another. A stampede of footfalls were coming down the hallway as flashlights bounced off the walls. I stuck to the shadows, running around Slate as he tried to aim his gun at any and all sounds that were coming at him.

Then I jumped from the darkness and wrapped my arm around his neck.

His gun dropped to the ground and he began to flail. He clawed and bit down into my skin, but it was useless. There was no way I was letting this fucker go. The police surrounded us, their guns trained on the man caught up in the muscles of my arm, and I saw my bodyguards step into my vision.

“It’s over,” I said. “You need to stop struggling.”

“I’ll never fucking stop hunting you,” Slate said.

“Take him into custody,” the police chief said.

“If I can get out of the lifestyle, you can too,” I said.

But Slate just laughed at me as my bodyguards pulled me off the man.

I watched one of the officers handcuff Slate as I pulled my phone out. I stopped the recording and downloaded it to my phone, then sent it to the police chief’s email address. I heard someone reading out Slate’s rights as he struggled and grunted, still trying to get away as they hauled him out.

“I’ll never stop hunting you, Robert! Do you hear me? Never!”

I turned around and watched them drag his ass down the hallway.

“He’s going away for a while,” the police chief said.

“I can’t thank you enough for your cooperation in all this,” I said.

“When you contacted me and told me you had a direct connection with one of the heads of the NET’s, I thought you were full of it.”

“I figured you would. Thank you for hearing me out anyway.”

“It’s my pleasure. They’re one of the hardest gangs to clean up in the Northeast. Dwindling their numbers even by one puts us at an advantage.”

“There are some things in that recording that are going to reflect badly on me,” I said.

“And seeing as you just put yourself in a life-threatening situation to snag us that recording, I’m sure any lawyer would throw you a massive deal. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“Sir? We need to get going.”

I turned and nodded towards my bodyguard before I stuck out my hand.

“Police Chief Vanderbilt, it’s been a pleasure,” I said.

“Get the hell out of here,” he said as he shook my hand. “Go be with that lovely woman of yours.”

As I walked out of that building, the only thing that I could think about was how Joanna was safe. Slate was in custody and going nowhere for a very long time and I was headed back into the arms of the woman who was worth every single fucking headache this took. Every phone call to the police and every minute I spent coordinating with them. Paying them for their overtime simply so they could stay on my schedule. We walked down the alleyway and I turned the corner, watching as a car came into sight.

It was time to put all this shit behind me. It was time to make my way back to Joanna. It was time to take her in my arms and hold her close and revel in the fact that we were safe.

But most of all, it was time to move forward.

It was time to plan a future with my family instead of using my energy to battle my past.