Intuition is the most important skill a leader can have. You can have everything else but if you don't have intuition, then your leadership will fall short. In the world I grew up in, intuition is life or death.

That's why, as I help Laura carry her boxes from her apartment to the moving truck, I listen to that twist in my gut that has been bothering me for the past couple of hours.

There's essentially no reason to be feeling this way. Months have passed and I have not heard a peep from the South Bloods. Mitch and the few men who have joined my business around the city have kept their eyes and ears open but no one has tried to follow me or approach me after the day I left. It has been quiet and while I was wary in the beginning, I gradually learned to accept the past was past. But this feeling in my gut now is what has saved my life on multiple occasions so I listen.

"Baby," I call for Laura as she waddles over to me. She's nine months along and her belly is bigger than she is. I have no idea how someone as tiny as her is carrying what seems to be a very big baby. Oh, and we were right—it is an Emily in there. "I'm going to drop you off at Mitch's place for a couple of hours, okay?"

"Why?" She pouts. She's become very needy in her final trimester but I'm enjoying it. If there is one thing I miss about being a leader it's taking charge. It has been far too long since I felt productive and taken lead on something so I've been smothering Laura and doing everything for her. She's been extra emotional and affectionate the past couple of months so it's worked out well.

"I'm going to go check on a few things," I answer vaguely.

She perches her hands on her hips. "Be more specific than that, Greg. I know that tone and I don't like it."

I sigh and close the remaining distance between us, cupping the back of her neck. "I'm going to go to the South Bloods headquarters."

"What?" Her thumb flies to her mouth in her usual show of worry. "Why would you do that? Something bad could happen."

"That's exactly why I need to go," I explain calmly. I take her thumb out of her mouth and bring her hand to my lips instead, kissing the smudges of paint. "Something is bothering me. I don't know what but I trust my feelings."

"Is it a bad feeling?"

"Yes. I can't seem to shake it and I'd rather be safe than sorry."

She nibbles on the corner of her lip. Over the past few months I've slowly told Laura all the gory details of my life, leaving out the ones that she shouldn't know. Some sins you are meant to take to your grave and indulging Laura in them does not help anyone. She knows more than enough to know who I truly am now and though she seemed surprised and wary at first, she learned to understand that a lot of my life was dictated despite my actions being mine. She understands what my life once was which is why she's visibly freaking out that I'm going back. Instinctively it seems, her free hand cups her belly protectively.

"Don't...don't get hurt, okay? Be as careful as you possibly can and don't stay there a second more than you need to." She swallows hard, trying to put on a smile. "I can't lose you, love."

"Nothing will happen," I assure her. "I just need to make sure everyone is following my orders of staying away. I can't lose you either, right?"

She nods and pulls in a breath. "I know. I'm sorry. Let's just blame it on the hormones."

She manages a small smile but her eyes flood with tears. I curse and pull her to me, hugging her as best as I can with her stomach between us. I stroke her hair while she sniffles into my chest. She is an unbelievably strong woman for putting up with me. Not everyone would have the courage of choosing a partner with a past like mine, a past that never really goes away and ultimately puts her and Emily in danger, but still she chooses me. Her bravery has always been what drew me in and that hasn't changed at all.

"I'll be fine," I promise. "I could never leave my two girls behind, darlin'. I just need to do this one thing and then we're out of here."

"And we'll be safe in Boston?" She asks in a small voice.

My finger slide up into her hair to tug her head back gently. I make sure she's looking me in the eye when I say, "Turf gang violence is limited to the city it's in. Being in a new city and having the blood law on our side makes us practically invisible. It's time to start a new life. I promise this is the last time I'm going to drag you down."

"You never drag me down," She whispers. "You help me fly. Everyday I fly in love with you."

"I flew first," I whisper back and lean down to take her lips between mine. I kiss her with as much assurance as I can and her grip tightens on me in return. When I feel a little wave of movement on my abdomen, I pull back with a chuckle and crouch down. My hand splays across Laura's belly. "You too, darlin'. Daddy loves you so much. I'll be right back, okay, Em?"

Another kick. I smile and kiss Laura's stomach before standing up to kiss her once more. She strokes my cheek. "Be safe. If I don't hear from you in two hours I'll go bat-shit crazy. You know I have it in me."

"You terrify me," I respond sombrely, her laughter encouraging my own grin. "Mitch is in the truck. Stick with him."

She nods and watches as I jog over to my car. I get in and reverse, heading toward the intersection. Laura blows me kisses until I turn left and am out of sight. That's when my easy smile finally drops.

I'm on high alert the drive over, my fingers drumming the wheel. Maybe I will get there and nothing will have changed. But maybe this feeling is here for a reason and I won't like what I find. I double check my glove compartment and take out both guns, strapping them to my waist at the next red light. Then I put on a pair of sunglasses and hat to avoid being noticed. I still attend several matches fighting professionally and am starting to get recognized in public. The last thing I need is for the media to catch me heavily equipped and start digging into information about me. I don't need anyone finding out about Raze. He's dead for good now and I would like it to stay that way.

The familiar streets leading to our warehouse flips a switch inside of me. I've learned to be a better person but that doesn't mean I'm naive enough to have my guard down around here. In these streets, being a killer is the only way to stay alive and I'll be damned if I let anyone see even a smidge of weakness from me.

I park my car and immediately know something is wrong. There's usually background chatter or some kind of energy buzzing around the streets of our turf. Right now there is only silence and I don't like it.

I take one of my guns into my hand before getting out of the car. I raise the gun up, slowly stalking to the warehouse while my eyes dart around. So much fucking stillness. Why? I force myself to cool down and think straight. This could be an ambush for all I know and I need to remember my training. Isolate my senses—ears honed in on the sounds behind me and eyes straight ahead so that no one catches me off guard. I use my booted shoe to nudge the door open quietly and step inside. There's a metallic tinge in the air and I know it all too well. My nostrils flair with familiarity. Blood.

"Father?" I call out. My voice echoes off the steel walls. "Byron?"

Something clatters up ahead. I click back the safety on the gun and point in the direction of the noise. A few seconds tick by of total silence so I walk toward it instead, my finger on the trigger. I add the slightest bit of pressure, ready to pull, but stop short when I recognize one of my members propped up against a garbage can and bleeding out from the gut.

"Finn." I immediately crouch down and grip his lolled face, tilting it up. "What the fuck happened?"

"Raze," He groans, barely able to get his eyes open. "Ambush."

"Ambush? Who did this?"

"V-Vice Lords."

I feel myself lock up. "Not possible. They are too pathetic to pull off an ambush. Somebody helped them."

He gurgles out a laugh but there's nothing humorous about it. "They c-came for you. Something about a debt?"

"A debt?" I scowl. "I didn't purchase shit from them. Turned their deal down."

"So we heard." He coughs violently, folding over. Another groan tears out of him. "The rest are at the b-back."

I frown and follow his line of sight but I don't see anything. Something isn't right here. My jaw locks and I turn to Finn again, grabbing his throat and squeezing hard. He sputters in shock and visibly claws for air.

"Let's try this again," I start, pure menace lacing again. "And this time tell me what Father is up to back there or I'll finish you off myself."

His eyes widen and I loosen my hold enough for him to talk. "I am t-telling the truth! All of our members are injured!"

I squeeze tight again. "You are only digging your grave deeper, Finn. Ambush or not, I know Byron is leader and he is too skilled to take a hit this bad. The truth or your life—which do you want to give up?"

He holds his hands up. "Don't! He made me! Sh-shot me and said he'd only get me help if I told you this lie!"

"Better." I nod and drop him. I will spare him his life, but he can live with his wounds for attempting to betray me. It is his own doing if they kill him eventually.

I draw my other gun from my waistband and click the lock back on it too. I hold them both in front of me, breathing evenly as I approach the back of the warehouse. I don't step outside but I do teeter on the edge and debate my next steps. If this really is an ambush then I can't expect to win unless someone has my back. I should have brought Mitch with me. Fuck.

"Father," I bark. Both my fingers settle over the triggers of my guns. "I wouldn't recommend doing anything stupid right now."

A shot goes off and I duck, barely dodging the bullet that hits the wall behind me. I move behind a large crate just as another shot is fired at me, cursing. So this is how it's going to be? I lean from behind the crate and angle my gun, pressing the trigger. Father disappears from sight just in time and I use the crate to shield myself once more.

"Don't do this!" I yell. "You're breaking the blood law!"

A bullet whizzes through the crate and splinters of wood break apart over my head. I cover myself with my arms just as jagged pieces fall down on me. Another bullet hits the crate beside me and I flinch because one more inch over and that would have been my head. It's almost like the shot was missed on purpose. I peer to my right where Byron is stationed, standing further back on the walkway. His expression is grim and full of warning. I'm not going to make it out alive if I stay here.

I push my weight up and sprint for the front of the warehouse. I can hear heavy steps behind me and pick up my pace, lungs burning as I head for the door. A shot fires just to my right and I duck, keeping low and moving as fast as I can.

"Come around the other side!" I hear Byron's command. "I got him!"

Shit. Running is not going to help. I get low and slide across the floor until I'm behind a pile of boxes. Without hesitation I shoot at Byron who is only a couple of steps behind me. He curses and ducks, eyes locking with mine and running straight for me. I pull the trigger again, clocking him in the arm. He grits his teeth with a deep groan but pushes forward until he's tackling me to the floor. He swings a punch to my face that snaps my head to the side and another jab to my gut. I am undeterred as I throw my weight to the side and roll us over so I'm on top, my right cross decking him in the jaw. My arm swings out for another punch and the crack of flesh on flesh bounces off the metal walls. I dodge his arm when it shoots up, my knuckles meeting his eye socket.

"Stop!" He hisses, flinching away. "Bastard! Listen to me for a second!"

"If you think you can kill your leader you are sadly mistaken," I seethe, my next punch coming down on his nose.

"Listen!" He barks and kicks me off, once again on top. His hand grabs my throat and I struggle against his hold to breathe, squirming. Byron's eyes blaze with anger and...panic. "There isn't much time, Raze. Listen to me."

What on earth is he talking about? I finally stop struggling and Byron lets go of my throat tentatively, hands up as if he's waiting for me to start fighting again. I don't. He nods when he believes I'm going to stay down.

"You weren't supposed to come here," He starts, shaking his head slowly. "I don't know how you did it but you knew to come here instead of going home. It fucked everything up."

"Fucked what up?" I demand.

"We had to improvise. Make it look like an ambush and kill you in the crossfire instead. We've had eyes on you for months and knew you were leaving the city with Laura. We tried to kill you before you left but fuck, you came here instead. How did you know?"

"Know what? Say it as it is!"

Something like regret flashes through his eyes. "We set a bomb at Mitch's house. We knew you were headed there. It's wired to go off as soon as the front door opens. By some miracle you came here instead so we had to improvise a different way to kill you. But it's likely Mitch and Laura are not alive right now."

No.

No, no, no.

My stomach sinks, a pit so deep that I feel hollow on the inside. I can feel the way my blood drains from my face with pure fear. Mitch. Laura. Emily. My family. They killed my family.

An in humane sound rips out of me, so guttural and tortured and hollow that Byron flinches. My arm swings out with so much force that I hear the way his jaw snaps when my knuckles make contact with his face. Byron'a deep groan is laced with misery as he falls off me and clutches his face, eyes pinched shut from the pain. But it is not good enough. I grab his face and then I don't stop. Punch after punch after punch until he's bloody and unrecognizable. Face swollen in size. I only stop because I have to go to them. I have to know if they are gone.

"Go around the back," Byron groans when I start to take off. I look down at him, still breathing hard from the brute force I used on him. His words are slurred through his lips that are double in size and flooded with streaks of blood. "I told them to come out front. Go around the back."

My brows crease together. He is helping me? But he is also responsible for that bomb, for not warning me and saving my family. I shake my head and head for the back. Even the good men of South Bloods are monsters. I should have left sooner.

As soon as I round the warehouse, I hear the sound of a gunshot right before pain bursts through my upper shoulder. A scream tears out of me and I go down, my body slamming into the cement and scraping my face. It feels like my entire body was doused in gasoline and lit on fire. I groan, turning my head with more effort than I thought I needed and gritting my teeth at the sight of blood. This was a calculated shot. Enough to hurt me gravely but not enough to kill me. This is the kind of shot that makes a man teeter on the edge of life and wish death could kiss him so he no longer feels pain. This is a torturous shot and one I know all too well.

"Fuck you," I spit on the boots that stop in front of me, already knowing who it is.

"Didn't I tell you you'd regret this?" Father crouches down. His face is wicked and then he digs his finger into my bullet wound, igniting a fresh burst of pain that makes it feel like my lungs are collapsing. Another scream is wrenched from my mouth. "No one disobeys Abram Resnick, least of all his own fucking son. This wouldn't be happening if you had just remembered your place and done your job."

"You are a miserable man," I manage to bite out. "So driven by your own greed that you are willing to kill your own son. You killed Mother and now you're going to kill me. Don't talk to me about regrets when your entire life has been a joke."

"I did not kill your mother!" He screams in my face, breathing hard. Something passes across his eyes and if I didn't know any better, I would say it was pain. "I didn't think she was capable of taking her own life."

"But she did. And you didn't think I was capable of leaving South Bloods but I did. You can't control everything, Father. For once in your fucking life make the right choices. Are you really going to look me in the eye and kill me?"

He hesitates, gun poised at my throat. I watch as a million thoughts visibly run through his mind and he is unable to look away from me.

"What's happening?" Someone behind us shouts. "I thought we weren't going to let him live!"

"Finish him, Abram! He betrayed us!"

"Let there be consequence!"

And like a switch, Father's eyes harden once again and he clicks the off the safety. Miserable, miserable man. He's really going to do it.

"The blood law—" I try one last time.

"But I didn't kill you," He shrugs. "We were ambushed as far as New York is concerned. And the South Bloods are willing to keep this quiet if it is your head at cost. You betrayed your men. You betrayed me, son."

"You betrayed me first," I hiss, disgusted. "By never being my father a day in my life. So kill me. Fuck the law. We are not blood."

Another wave of emotions passes through his eyes at my words but I don't want to see it. I pinch my eyes shut with anticipation, waiting for it to end. I apologize over and over to Laura and Emily and Mitch and hope they are alive. Hope they can forgive me if they are not.

The gun is fired.

___________________________

A/N

Y'all better be grateful af I gave this book to you in one shot. Yes, I accept iced coffee as payment of thanks.

Okay, lemme stop talking. Go see what happens next!

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