"Everyone listen up," Dante booms.

I look across the room at Coach who's watching Dante with a glare, his arms crossed. He's been keeping a close eye on him because he doesn't trust him just yet. I'd be worried but I know Coach can hold his own and that he has my back. Asher is the same, jaw clenched and staring holes into the back of Dante's head.

Dante points to his right hand man. "Me and Sergio go in first, followed by Greg and his students. Only the four of us will go inside Kane's house. The rest of you stand guard outside. You're to act like there's a party of sorts going on. Use the red solo cups, dress casually, but keep your guns on you. And don't forget to keep the music as loud as possible to conceal possible gunshot sounds or screams. We need to make this clean and fast. Emerson, I'm giving you ten minutes with him before I step in."

I look to Coach again, using my eyes to tell him what I'm thinking. He nods and faces Dante. "The situation will be a touch-and-go. It's up to Emerson what he's going to want to do once he confronts Kane. There's a possibility he'll want to let him go and that's his call to make and our orders to follow."

"Let him go?" Dante laughs. His lip curls in a sneer. "We didn't go to these lengths just to let the fucker go. I was told that blood will be spilled and I'm making sure of that."

"Go fuck yourself," Coach counters in a bored voice.

In unison, all chatter immediately stops and the room goes quiet. It's like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room as everyone holds their breaths. Dante freezes, blinking slowly at Coach as he starts to tense up. No one has ever challenged him before. At least not unless you want to die. He's a dangerous man and I gape at Coach incredulously for what he just did. I glance over at Asher and find the same shell-shocked expression on his face. He's pale and I'm betting I'm the same because I can feel the blood draining from my face. What the hell is Coach doing?

"You want to try that again?" Dante demands in a low voice, taking slow and calculated steps toward Coach. Everyone in the room looks around at each other nervously. It doesn't take a genius to figure out Dante is getting riled up and that can't be a good thing.

"I said," Coach starts is a deadly calm voice. He meets Dante halfway by walking right up to him and getting in his face. "Go. Fuck yourself."

I sit up straighter in my seat, tensing up. Damn it. Why the fuck is Coach trying to make himself a target? Beside me, Asher leans forward like he's prepared to get involved. I stop him with a hand on his shoulder until he looks at me and shake my head. Dante isn't someone you want to cross. I've seen it myself.

"Do you know who I am?" Dante's nostrils flare, his patience officially snapping.

Coach looks him up and down and scoffs. He's the poster image of not impressed. "You're a fucking wannabe. The way you run this gang is sloppy at best. You have too many enemies, you're constantly putting your own people in danger, and you partake in senseless violence. Do you know what senseless violence looks like? Desperation. Like you want to prove so bad you're tough and need to be feared. You want to be feared and respected? Stop acting like a little bitch crying for attention. Do your job, treat your own with respect, and create more allies than enemies."

Dante is fuming now. He looks around the room with angry eyes as everyone stares. They all look down at the outrage on his face and Dante's cheek grow red with embarrassment. He pushes Coach back and immediately Ash and I are on our feet. "The fuck do you know? I could kill you right now if I wanted to."

Coach looks down at his chest where Dante just had his hands and back up to his face. There's a moment where nobody moves or says anything. Then, before I can even make sense of what happened, Dante is pinned to the wall a few inches off the ground with Coach's hand wrapped around his throat. Dante gasps for air as Coach digs his fingers in deeper, eyes flashing.

"The fuck do I know? South Bloods was my kingdom and I was their motherfucking king." His lip curls. "I ran this gang for years. I'm the reason we hold the status as the number one gang in New York. Everyone feared me, and those who crossed me never lived to see another day. I've been gone for decades but these streets still know my name and make grown men piss their pants. You don't want to find out what I'm capable of. You try to threaten me or my sons, the South Bloods will be burying their leader six feet under. Don't you fucking disrespect me."

Jesus Christ.

Coach lets go so suddenly that Dante's feet hit the ground and he stumbles, barely catching himself from falling over. He coughs violently and Coach faces the room, passive as ever. Everyone collectively stands taller and it's clear Dante is no longer the most feared in the room. Hell, even I almost shit my pants for a second. I've never seen Coach like that before. He seemed...cruel. It's goddamn hard to believe and one look exchanged with Asher tells me he's thinking the exact same thing.

"We proceed with the original plan as discussed," Coach booms. "Kane will be confronted, you all are to keep onlookers away, and you will stay behind in New York for a week to make sure no one tries to come after Emerson. If they do, alert me immediately. I'll deal with them myself. Let's move."

Wordlessly we all begin to file out of the New York headquarters. I glance over at Dante who's recovered and glaring at the back of Coach's head. But there's no mistaking the fear in his eyes this time. Asher and I jog up to Coach just as he hands both of us our guns. We all push them behind the waistband of our jeans and conceal them with our shirts.

"That was badass, Coach," Asher mumbles. "But what if you pissed him off and he tries to come after you?"

"He can't," Coach says simply and walks away. What the fuck?

"What do you mean he can't?" Asher asks as we quicken our pace to catch up to him.

"I'm untouchable. My father created the South Bloods. That makes me royalty in these streets. South Bloods law dictates that immediate family members remain untouchable by any and all gangs. Only good thing that asshole ever did for our family to protect us."

"What happens if you break that law?"

"You die. Every gang in New York will kill Dante at my command if I tell them he's threatened me. They would never let any fucker break a law and endanger the entire street gang system. Dante was stupid to even try such a thing but his dick got the better of him. He's lucky I'm sparing his life."

"Hell," Asher mutters and looks over at me with wide eyes. If I'm not mistaken there's a flash of excitement in them too. He's enjoying this way too much and I suppress rolling my eyes. We get inside Coach's car as Asher asks, "Did you tell your family what you're doing here?"

"A brief explanation," He says vaguely, which means they probably don't know as much as we do. Coach looks over at me in the passenger seat like he can read my mind. "It's for their own safety. Sometimes the less you know, the better."

And he leaves it at that. The rest of the drive is silent as we head towards the house Kane has been living in for the past couple of months. He moves around a lot so it was hard to track down his current address but I got it. There's no doubt I'm only moments away from seeing him again.

"How you holding up, Emerson?" Coach asks.

"I don't know," I mumble and look out the window. My heart is thudding violently in my ears. My palms are sweaty. My gut is tight. In an embarrassed voice I admit, "I think I'm...fucking terrified."

I feel Coach's hand on my shoulder give a squeeze. "This is the man that ruined your life. Traumatized you nearly for good. You'd be a madman to not be afraid."

"We're going to get him," Asher promises quietly from the backseat. "He can't do shit to you."

I nod in acknowledgement, unable to use words right now because the streets we're driving in look familiar. I saw them on Google Maps tracing down this location. We're one turn away. My panic hits me so fiercely I have to duck my head between my legs and pull in deep breaths. Jesus fucking Christ, this is it. All I can see in my head is Kane's face looming over mine, his cold smirk and the shine of the blade as he held it to my throat and cut me open. I hear my mother and father's last words to me.

Make your old man proud.

Daddy and I love you.

Fucking hell. My breaths burst out of me faster than I can keep them in. I can't fucking breathe. Can't think. Can't focus.

"You're okay son," I hear Coach command gruffly. He pats me on the back. "Come on. Deep breaths. You're going to be fine."

"Mel," I whisper, needing her so fiercely in this moment. She's the only be who's been able to calm me down during a panic attack. "Please let me talk to her."

Coach curses under his breath. "You know I can't allow that. I'm sorry. But don't think for a second she's not with you right now. Get this done and let's go home to her. Come on."

He's right. I hate this but he's right. So I imagine Melanie instead, the counts of breaths she would make for me to follow along to. Her soft encouragements, something like deep breaths, big guy. And somehow it works. It takes a minute but it works and when my breathing is regular again I not to let Coach know I'm okay.

"We're here," He reminds me. "Are you ready?"

I think of my parents, how I could have had a life with them, how I could have lived in a world where I wasn't silenced or immobilized. Determination takes over any hesitation and I jerk my head in a nod, my hand going to the gun tucked behind the waistband of my jeans.

"Let's move," He commands and we push the car doors open.

I take a look around as we walk down the quiet street. It looks shady and rundown, with random people sitting on the steps of their houses or the sidewalk. Some of them are drinking and smoking and others are shooting the shit. Most of the chatter dies down as all of us head straight for Kane's house. A bunch of big dudes together does look suspicious but thankfully the South Bloods members start causing ruckus, cheering and whooping as the hold up bottles of alcohol. Immediately everyone goes back to their business and I know our cover works.

"Go find my boy, Shawn!" Sergio whoops loudly enough for the block to hear.

"Put some music on already! This party is dead!" Another member adds.

Music I don't recognize, something techno with a heavy bass, starts playing and I find myself impressed. Good song choice. The baritone of the music will easily conceal loud noises.

Dante gets to the door first, trying the knob but it doesn't turn all the way. He immediately takes a long pin out of his pocket and discreetly picks the lock. He gets it open in mere seconds and then we're in. He stuffs one hand in his pocket but I know he's actually reaching for his gun as we file inside. Coach holds a hand behind his back to ward me off, stopping me from getting too close. Asher is behind me so he closes the front door shut and locks it quietly. We pull our guns out and hold them in front of us as we start to scout the place. It's small so it doesn't take very long.

"Where is the bastard?" Coach mutters under his breath. I begin to feel panic and frustration all at once because he should have been home. I made sure of the timing.

Suddenly there's a loud shout just down the hall and all the guns in the room go up. There's scuffling, the sound of flesh against flesh, and then what sounds like something being dragged. A minute later Dante comes out of the room with his hand gripping a shirt collar as he drags a body behind him and into the living room. He lets go of the man at my feet and I stare down at him without breathing.

It's him. Kane. There's no fucking mistaking it.

It's funny that I remember him as a despicable monster in my head yet the man in front of me looks pathetic. Fucking pathetic. His hair has thinned out to the point of baldness, his cheeks are hollow and sunken, his eyes dim, his frame lithe and gangly. Either he's had a dramatic transformation from all those years ago or he's always been this way and he only got my father because he had the element of surprise. I know my father could have beat this bastard's face in no contest. And I know I could do it too.

"Oi! Get your hands off me! Who the fuck are you people?" He scowls and swings his glare around the room. They pause on me when he notices the look on my face. I feel murderous and no doubt he can see it. Doesn't help his case that I'm a fucking giant compared to him. His face blanches immediately. "Whatever you think I've done you're mistaken, mate."

Mistake? He thinks what he did was a mistake? Rage like I've never known it engulfs me from inside out and it's like my body goes on autopilot. I grab him by the front of his shirt and lift him up until he's in my face, holding my gun to his throat. He cries in alarm and tries to squirm out of my grasp but I've got him locked in place.

"Don't say a fucking word, you hear me?" I tell him in a low voice. He nods hard and fast and I realize he can't tell I'm saying the last words he ever said to me. It's funny how he doesn't remember yet those words have haunted me all life. I feel a sneer form on my face as I continue, my eyes locked on his. "You won't speak. Not now, not ever. If you do, I'll find out. Then I'll hunt you down and I'll kill you too. You keep your trap shut or it's game over, get me?"

All of a sudden he freezes and his eyes go wide in alarm. I see the recognition in them and I know he's finally placed who I am. He gapes like a fucking fish out of water. "Y-you. The kid of that officer."

"Yes," I confirm in a deadly low voice. "Except I'm not a kid anymore and I'm done being silent. You shot my parents in cold blood, you remember that?"

"Christ," He squeezes his eyes shut. "I knew I should have killed you then."

My fist meets his face before he's even finished the sentence. He falls to the ground and I'm on him a second later. Over and over my fists rain down on him until he's bloody and unrecognizable. I cry out in outrage and knee him in the gut, taking hold of his head and slamming it against the wooden floor of his home. I've never felt so animalistic and no one stops me. Then I grip his throat so tight he goes purple in the face. He claws at my fingers and begs me with his eyes to let go but I'm not feeling so forgiving.

"That's all you can think to say?" I scream. "That you should have killed me too? You have no fuckin' remorse for making me an orphan and taking away my voice? My life?"

He chokes on thin air trying to pull in enough oxygen to answer me. I let him go and hold him down with a knee to his chest while he recovers, hacking violently as he desperately tries to breathe. I know it's instinct but I can't believe he's stupid enough to try to throw a swing at me and get away. I duck and pin his arm down, slapping him right across the face.

"Answer me!" I demand.

"What the fuck do you want me to say?" He yells back. "I lost someone too! It's the circle of fucking life."

"You lost someone who was arrested for manslaughter and raped a young boy in jail. I lost my father who protected the world from fuckers like you! He didn't even do anything to you, you bastard. You know he wasn't the officer who arrested Sims but you framed him to get away. Admit it!"

"Yes! Fuck, I admit it!" He tries to push against my weight but it's useless because I have at least fifty pounds on him. He growls in frustration and spits in my face. I don't even bother wiping it away. I don't even fucking feel it. "What was I supposed to do — confess? What kind of fantasy world are you living in, mate? Can't blame a man for outsmarting an entire precinct. Guess daddy dearest wasn't such a good officer after all."

With one hand on his throat to keep him in place, I aim my gun downward and pull the trigger without a flicker of hesitation. The bullet fires straight into his leg. He screams through gritted teeth and I poise the hollow opening of the gun at the centre of his chest. My sets like stone.

"I came here to kill you. I thought that maybe you'd changed your ways so I could spare you but I'm obviously mistaken. Give me one good reason to not pull this trigger."

"You don't have the fucking guts," He sneers right back. All I can do is shake my head. His face is comforted in pain, his leg bleeding out, yet he thinks he has a chance.

"He just might," I hear Dante mumble from behind me and when I look over my shoulder he looks mildly impressed. Just as quick his eyes flash and harden at Kane. "But if he doesn't, that's what I'm here for. And let me tell you something — I quite enjoy killing."

"Okay, okay, relax," He blanches and his eyes skirt between all four of us before landing on me. "What'll it take for you to turn a blind eye?"

"Blind eye?" I swallow down the boulder in my throat. "I wish I was blind. Every time I close my eyes I see my parents dying. You did that to me. You did that to them."

"And I can't take it back, Jesus Christ. What do you want from me?"

"Show me you feel at least a bit of remorse. Make me believe you wish you did things differently."

His chin raises slightly. "Afraid I can't do that, mate. Say what you want about me but I'm an honest man. Taking revenge on your father gave me peace. It was just bad luck your poor ma had to get caught up in his mess."

"Fuckin' demented," I mumble with disgust. I can't believe what I'm hearing from him. Maybe it was naivety or wishful thinking but I thought some part of him must have been human. Some part of him should have felt regret. He doesn't look even a little bit sorry and I feel sick to my fucking stomach. Killing him isn't going to change anything. It's not going to bring me peace because he doesn't have any regrets for what he did anyways. Alive or dead he stands by what he did and that'll always haunt me. I don't want his dead body on my conscience on top of that. I grunt and shove him back to the floor, getting to my feet and looking away. "Let's go."

"Go?" Coach repeats.

"What the fuck, Wolfe?" Asher shakes my arm. "You're letting this piece of shit go? He's fucking proud of what he did to your parents! He should fucking die."

"He will," I shrug his hand off of me. "Eventually. But he's a sociopath — if I kill him he'd wear it like a badge of honour. He'd feel even more important and I won't give him the satisfaction. He's not worth my time."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Kane seethes and shoots to his feet. He actually looks offended that I won't kill him. I glare down at him.

"Look around you. You're completely alone. Your so called buddies gave you up in a heartbeat, you have no family left, and you barely make enough money dealing drugs to keep yourself alive. Your existence is miserable and that's good enough for me. You can die knowing that the son of the people you murdered spared your life and it was the most anyone's gave a fuck about you. That's how sad you are. No one will blink twice when you're six feet under, Kane. Least of all me."

Kane's face is scrunched up and reddening with every passing moment. I've humiliated his dignity and I know that's far worse than killing him. He's an egotistical man and I just hurt him where he'll feel it the most. I spit in his face and shove him back, not sparing him a second glance as I head for the door.

"Okay, that was pretty badass," Asher nudges his elbow into me.

Coach's hand settles on me shoulder. "I'm proud of you, son. Only a real man could do what you just did back there."

I nod back at him in thanks and look over at Dante. I'm surprised he's leaving with us instead of causing a scene. Our eyes clash for a quick moment and he looks thoughtful, if not a little wary. He finally tips his chin in silent acknowledgement and I look away, unsure what to make of that.

"What happened?" Sergio immediately jogs up to us once we're outside. The "party" is still going strong and most of the neighbours have joined. "Did you get him? He dead?"

"No," Coach answers firmly and Sergio swings his gaze to Dante. He looks as incredulous as I expected him to. "Change of plans. Emerson got what he wanted and we're done here."

"That's bull," Sergio turns his scowl to me. "You obsessed for years, worked with us and planned for months. All of that for nothing?"

"Hey, what the fuck do you know about what's good enough for him?" Asher gets in his face, pushing him back. "It's his fucking life. He doesn't have to explain shit to you."

"Yes he does," Sergio shoves Asher back. "We're the ones that made this possible. You think South Bloods hands out freebies like it's nothing? What are we, a fucking daycare? If we're told to track down and kill then that's exactly what we do and nothing less. Right, boss?"

Everyone looks at Dante whose jaw ticks with tension. He shares a hard look with Coach, and then with me, and finally looks at Sergio. "Kid says he wants to let it be. We're going to let it be."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"No. Guy in there is all kinds of fucked up. The kid is right — he'd love to be killed by our hands to feel like he's worth something. Let him rot. He has enemies everywhere anyways. One of them is bound to kill him eventually."

I feel my brows come together in confusion. I can't tell if Dante is being genuine or playing us. Up until now he was barely cooperating with us. Did Coach really get to him that bad?

"You're pathetic," Sergio seethes. "You were never fit to run South Bloods and we all know it. You don't have what it fucking takes!"

He pulls out a gun so fast we barely see it coming. Dante yells for everyone to duck and we hit the floor a second later. I fumble for my handgun at the same time as Coach and Asher and we fire at Sergio. The sound of bullets erupt through the air followed by screams and shouts of warning. The crowd disperses in all directions as everyone runs back into their homes. Sergio bolts straight for Kane's house and manages to dodge all the shots fired at him. My stomach sinks when I realize he's going to finish the job himself.

"Oi!" I yell after him and stumble to my feet. My steps pound against the concrete as I sprint inside the house as fast as I can. My breaths burst out of me in panic and anger and I shoulder the locked door open, raising my gun in front of me.

"—wasn't part of the plan!" Sergio screams in Kane's face before his head shoots up and notices my presence a second too late.

"Plan?" I look between the two, my finger on the trigger. "What plan?"

Sergio drops his hold on Kane's shirt and lets him fall to the ground again, aiming his gun at me. He's panting hard and his eyes are alight with fire. "You just had to go looking, fucker. Couldn't leave it alone, could you?"

"What the hell is going on?" Dante demands, coming up behind me. He clicks the safety off his gun and points it at Sergio. "Drop it right the fuck now. You don't disobey me like that."

Sergio barks out a laugh. "I don't, do I? You're pathetic. You don't know shit about this gang and you don't have what it takes to be our leader. It should be me!"

"What the fuck are you saying?"

"You don't even know who I really am and I've been your right hand man all this time. You're fucking dense, D. South Bloods deserves better."

"Who you really are?" I repeat. The back of my neck grows cold. Something isn't right here. I thought I orchestrated this whole plan but clearly Sergio was going under my nose the whole time. The question is doing what?

"Wait," I turn around at the sound of Coach's voice. He's staring at Sergio with a look of disbelief and confusion. "You fucking bastard. I recognize you. You clearly got some work done but if you know where to look, you can see past that. Bastard."

Sergio sneers. "I've gotten away this long. You fuckers won't stop me."

"Coach?" Asher asks, raising his gun. "Coach, what's happening?"

"You're Sims. Brody Sims," Coach accuses and I suck in a startled breath. Brody Sims? The guy Gentry killed in jail? The reason Kane murdered my parents? My head whips back to Sergio in question.

"It's over," He says blandly and pulls the trigger. It hits Kane in the head and his body crumples in less than a second. Dead. It happens so fast all I can do is gape at his body, unable to look away.

"Wolfe!"

"Emerson!"

"Kid, duck!"

My eyes jump from Kane to Sims and there's a split second where I realize his gun is pointed right at me. My breath catches and all I can do is think about my parents. Gramps. Melanie. Then a burst of pain shoots through my chest and I'm down. I'm down and I can't breathe. And it really is over.

___________________________

A/N

HOLY FUCK!!!!!! THIS IS TOO FREAKING INTENSE!!!!! THE PLOT TWIST AND THE ENDING. WHO SAW IT COMING?

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Happy Reading :)