Ezra Pecora drove through the busy city of Seattle. He stared out the front window as he passed cars and tall buildings. He hated the big city and hated that the warehouse where he worked was in the town. The air here wasn't pure. He could be exaggerating, but the air hurt his lungs. He would rather be in the woods of Seattle. The atmosphere there was refined. The air there didn't damage his lungs.

There were too many people in the city. The streets were too crowded for him. The woods were quiet. There were no sirens. No people were yelling at each other. It was perfect and relaxing. He stopped at a red light and watched the people on the sidewalks move around each other, heading to their jobs. 

His job wasn't traditional and wouldn't make his mother proud. He was part of a gang. One of the most feared in the state of Washington – the Strangle Gang. He was second in command and cared for his boss's problems. His boss, Jearon Muli, hadn't seen any action since he became leader. That was something that annoyed Ezra. He was the one being sent off to do whatever Jearon needed to be done. There was more blood on Ezra's hands than he wanted. Ezra thought Jearon was getting soft, but he knew better than to say anything. While Jearon hadn't shot a gun or hurt anyone in years, he could still hurt Ezra. Ezra wasn't ever going to underestimate him. 

He was still young. He had too many bodies piled up in his mind to count. He wasn't thirty yet, only having recently celebrated his twenty-fourth birthday. Although celebrate wasn't the best word he could use for what he did on his birthday. Jearon had sent him out to find, torture, and kill a man threatening Jearon for a couple of months. He was surprised that his hands weren't stained red with the blood of his victims. 

He and Jearon had once been best friends. When Ezra's parents were killed in a house fire, he was taken in by the Strangle Gang. He was only thirteen at the time and lonely. He wandered the streets and hid from the authorities trying to put him in the system. When the Strangle Gang picked him up, he was the youngest in that warehouse. Everyone else was older than him by ten years. He had no one to talk to. No one to do kid stuff with. He almost ran away to live on the streets again until Jearon came. Jearon's parents were abusive and starved him. He had to escape; the warehouse was the only place he could go where he felt safe. Two lonely kids found a close-binding friendship through a gang. How strange is that?

Now, things have changed. Jearon was obsessed with being Washington's most prominent and vital gang. He did everything in his power to bring his crew above the police and government to keep himself – and his goons – out of prison. That meant not thinking twice about killing anyone who got in his way. That included men that they had grown up with. He worked hard to be the wealthiest gang in Washington, as well. He was obsessed with power, making him act utterly different from the boy he grew up with. Ezra didn't even recognize him anymore. 

Ezra sighed as his phone started to ring. He wished he could walk out, but Jearon had threatened that he would kill him if he did. Ezra has seen and done too much for Jearon to feel comfortable letting him out of their gang. He picked up the phone and checked the caller id, rolling his eyes. "Yes, Jearon?" he answered on the phone. He knew that Jearon had wanted him to start calling him boss, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. 

"Are you here yet?" Jearon sounded annoyed. He could hear the busy work of the warehouse on the other side of the phone—men yelling back and forth.

"Almost." He hung up quickly before Jearon could say anything else and threw the phone in the passenger seat. It probably was a bad idea to hang up on him, but Ezra didn't care. It was too early to deal with Jearon's bullshit. 

His promise to Jearon was true. He rolled up to the warehouse in five minutes and stepped out of his car. The warehouse was huge. The old, red brick was chipped from old age. The red of the brick looked darker than it was with the ominous cloudy sky of Seatle. He took one last swig of his coffee before walking up to the large metal door and knocking five times. The door opened slowly, and a pair of nervous, blue eyes stared at him questioningly.

"Troy," Ezra started slowly. "It's me. Let me in."

Ezra watched and waited as Troy's eyes looked him up and down before opening the door wide enough for Ezra to squeeze through. After the door was closed behind him, Troy spoke in a shaky voice, "I'm sorry, Ezra. I wanted to make sure that you were you." The boy gave a slightly apologetic shrug as he wrung his hands together. 

Ezra turned to look at the newly recruited fifteen-year-old. He smiled at the nervousness and fear in the boy. He didn't like that Jearon always kept their weakest link at the door. Also didn't like how he saved a young boy at the door. Ezra had always thought that when they get their younger recruits, they should be kept in the back and trained, but those conversations with Jearon never went his way. Troy bent his head just enough so his thick black hair hung over his eyes. Ezra placed a hand on his shoulder and sighed as he felt the boy stiffen. "There's no need to apologize, Troy."

Troy looked up at him with wide and nervous eyes. He was more scared of Ezra than he was of Jearon. Everyone was. They knew not to mess with Jearon because he would send Ezra after them. 

"You were doing your job, and I know the boss would appreciate that." He smiled at Troy before turning around and walking toward the back of the warehouse. The men turned their heads and watched him walk by before continuing with their work. 

Once at the back wall, he turned around to survey the warehouse. Not too long ago, Jearon had Ezra pick up a large shipment of guns. He looked around now and was happy to see that everyone had made it safely. There were large boxes placed all over the warehouse floor. Men held guns as they circled the warehouse floor, watching the other men unpack the boxes. That was what Jearon's work was. The guns he bought were highly illegal. He would sell these guns to powerful families for a large sum. 

"Ezra," he heard a deep voice smirk behind him. "I'm glad that you decided to show up."

Ezra sighed and hung his head in apology. He knew how to play fake in front of Jearon. "Sorry, Jearon, you know how bad traffic can get." He looked at Jearon standing next to him, observing the work. "Also, considering I was out all night doing another one of your missions, I shouldn't have had to come in at all."

Jearon gave an annoyed sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "How many times do I have to remind you, Ezra, you have to call me boss whenever we are in front of the rest of them," Jearon smirked at him. His brown hair was buzzed close to his scalp making the dragon tattoo on his neck stand out. He had dark brown eyes that sat close together. His thin mouth looked even slimmer when he had his lip ring in. For a gang leader, his nose was perfectly shaped. Ezra remembered countless times in the past couple of years when he had wanted to break that perfect nose but valued his life more.

Ezra clenched his teeth together. "I guess we're not on a first-name basis anymore?" He crossed his arms over his chest. 

Jearon shook his head. "You know that that's not what I mean, Ezra. We can't let anyone feel like they can get close to me."

"No one's going to kill you, boss." 

"But some people will want to try!" Jearon threw his hands up. "Do I have to remind you that some have threatened? I have made this gang larger than ever before, and it's only a matter of time before someone tries to kill me. Before someone tries to get closer than just a threat."

Ezra turned to Jearon and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I won't ever let that happen. You've got to trust that I'm here to protect you. As much as I don't always like it, I'm your eyes and ears in this gang." Jearon was still his best friend, and Ezra would kill anyone trying to hurt him – whether he was the boss or not. He didn't want to see his friend die, no matter how much he annoyed and got under his skin. 

Jearon smiled at Ezra. "I have your loyalty?" There was a hint of mischievousness in his eyes, but it went away quickly before Ezra could dissect it. 

Ezra dropped his hand by his side. "Yes, of course." 

"Then come," Jearon started to turn away from him. "I have a new mission for you; this time, it involves a girl." He clapped his hands together as he walked away. 

Ezra gave him a weird look before following him into a small room. The only thing in the room was a desk and a chair. Jearon didn't like much flare in his office. His home was the complete opposite of this. On top of the desk were a lot of papers and photographs. As Ezra drew nearer, he noticed the photos were of a twenty-two-year-old woman. She was pretty. Beautiful even. She had long, red hair with a beautiful set of green eyes. She had a small nose and a perfectly plump mouth. Ezra had vowed never to hurt a woman or child. He looked up at Jearon and gave him a questionable look.

"Who is she, Jearon?"

Jearon smirked at Ezra when he noticed him staring at the pictures. He was proud of himself. "She's a pretty one, isn't she?" He picked up a picture and looked at it. "You're only seeing her face, but you should see the rest of her. Just perfect. This is Aubrey Hallquist. She's the daughter of one of the richest people in Washington; Deacon Hallquist."

"What would you want with him?" Ezra asked while taking his eyes off the pictures on the table. "He's not a government official or anyone in the force."

Jearon looked up at him like he was hungry. "He's rich, Ezra. He's powerful. I want the money and power that he has, and all of it will go to saving his precious daughter."

"Then why do you need me?" Ezra asked slowly.

"I need you to go and get her. Bring her back here, and we'll wait for our money." Jearon put the picture in his hand back on the table and came around to face Ezra. "We'll ask for a boatload of money, Ezra. Enough for you and me to live off of for the rest of our lives! All you have to do is get the girl. Will you do that for me?"

Ezra took a deep breath. He couldn't deny him. He knew the consequences would be harmful to him if he did that. He only had one choice. "Yes, boss."