It was getting dark now. Devin and I had snuck into an old apartment complex on Melrose avenue to shelter from the cold and to figure things out.

Though the building was probably as old as the city, it still had regular guests. Men often rented rooms for themselves and their mistresses. It was also a popular spot for the ladies of the night.

The shattered glass at the back of one the ground floor apartments made it easy to get it. There wasn't any security or even a watchman to worry about either. So we settled in the dusty room. I sat on the purple velvet sheets while Devin took a seat in a bully wooden chair.

We didn't know who took Dahlia or why. We didn't know where she could be. We knew nothing.

We were cold and hungry and had nothing. Devin decided to take a shower in the middle of our discussion. I think the weight of not knowing what to do was getting to him.

It was getting to me too. Devin was so sure that Juno was somehow involved, and even if Dahlia pissed him off somehow. Kidnapping just wasn't his style. Or maybe he took her, and she was already... No. I shook away the thought that threatened to enter my mind.

Minutes after Devin returned from the bathroom. The phone we got from Marcus buzzed. He was covered only by a stained towel from the waist down. The lean muscles in his arms stretched as he He grabbed it off the bed. He furrowed his brows at the number.

I asked him who it was and he only shook his head.

"It's a message," he stated simply.

I got up and stood beside him.

He lowered his hand so I could see. When he opened it we both held our breaths when we saw the girl sitting in a chair in the middle of a room.

Her face was bruised from where she must have been hit several times. I recognized the stubbornness and defiance in my sister's eyes. It's the one that got her into a lot of trouble.

She started to speak. She focused off-screen as if she was reading a prompt. Devin stiffened as the last words were spoken. My eyes stung and my heart raced when then the video ended. But I needed to control myself. We would find before those bastards could lay their hands on her again.

Devin was silent for a minute. I was afraid to speak. I didn't know what to say.

"God Damnit!" he yelled launching the phone into a far corner of the room. The yellow fluffy carpet softened its crash. He raked his hands aggressively through his dark curly hair.

"Fuck!" he cursed again. I was angry too. But mine was internalized as I watched my brother pace the room, making a rut in the carpet. There was no point to both of us losing our minds.

I sat down on the bed and bowed my head. How are we going to save her? We don't have the money and we only had a day to get it.

This was my worst nightmare coming to life. I missed our parents terribly but not as much as Dahlia and Devin.

They had more time with them. I only had 8 years. For the last six years of my life, my siblings were all I had.

They are all I have, and I never wanted to lose my family. But what could a 14-year-old boy do?

The tears welled in my eyes and I quickly wiped them away.

I didn't want Devin to see me cry. I didn't want to seem weak.

But he heard the uncontrollable sniff and came to sit beside me. He touched my shoulder and I looked up but he was staring at the pink floral wallpaper that was beginning to strip. 

"We're going to get her back," he said quietly and I wasn't sure if he was trying to convince himself or me.

"How?" I asked.

"I don't know. But we will. No one tears the Vickers apart. That's what Dad always said"

I bowed my head when Devin mentioned our father. He rarely spoke about them. I thought it was his way of coping with their deaths but I appreciated when he did.

"First we need to find out who took her," I said pushing the doubt to the back of my mind and wiping my eyes with my shirt.

We would believe that we could save her, we had to.

The phone buzzed again on the floor. The sound was muffled by the carpet. Devin took it up and read it.

"Looks like these bitches have a plan".

I looked at him confused. He threw the phone at me. I caught it easily in my right had hand.

I read the message and furrowed my brows in clear confusion.

"They want us to go after Fitz?"

~~~~

Eddie Fitz was a former officer of the law who got busted for selling guns on the black market.

From what I heard he had connections in the military, some guy nicknamed Woodie.

Woodie would inform of new shipment of weapons coming to dock, and Eddie was the superintendent in charge of securing the weapons.

A lot of times some weapons came up missing and in his attempt to cover his tracks he tried to frame his former partner.

It all fell apart about a year ago when the ex-partner recorded Fitz exchanging the guns with Gills.

One would think that was a smoking gun to get him locked up, but someone got bribed and Fitz only lost his job.

As far as I knew Fitz was still in operation and working with Gills. So why would Gills want us to steal from him?

"How do we know it's really Gills?" I asked Devin as he sat down on the bed trying to figure out our next move.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how do we know that Gills is behind all of this?"

"Who else could it be?"

" I... I don't know, It's just that-"

"Look Darius it makes sense, who else has Dahlia pissed off more than Juno and Gills? Gills had the manpower and money to do this shit. Dahlia is always fucking around, having sex with whoever, stealing from Juno to help us. She probably got caught."

It somehow sounded as if he was blaming her for this. Like it was her fault our lives were shitty. I pushed the thought aside.

"But Gills and Fitz are in business so why would he steal?"

"Gills is a greedy son of a bitch, who only wants money and control, that's why," he snapped.

I knew he was getting aggravated by me. He didn't know what he was doing, and my questions didn't make anything better.

I still wasn't a hundred per cent on board with robbing Fitz just because these people said we should.

"Okay, we know where Fitz lives, over in Charleston, in one of those mansions. But we don't know where he keeps his money."

"How do we find out?" I asked.

"We have to get to Tino, He's the only one who would know or could find out."

This plan was getting worse by the minute.

"We don't have the money for Tino and we still owe him, remember?"

"I know." He got up and pulled on his shirt and a different black hoodie. He turned to me with a slight smirk. A new look of determination and mischief written on his face. He had a plan.

"I feel like getting a drink, how about you?"

~~~~

I remember the first time when Barry force-fed me beer as a joke to his friends.

It was a bitter liquid that I couldn't swallow so I spat it out immediately, and it splattered all over his shoes. That earned me a backhanded slap to the face.

The staggering drunkards that wobbled their way out of the bar across the street reminded me of Barry. The random nights that he would stumble into the house yelling, and knocking over furniture were the scariest; mostly because he was so unpredictable.

There was one night where he hauled Devin out of bed and kicked him down the stairs. Devin, of course, fought back with all his might and managed to knock him out for the first time.

Margaret didn't like that and proceeded to punish us by locking us in the room with no food or water. She might be crueller than Barry ever could be.

The drunks weren't all middle-aged men like Barry. Some of them were women in their twenties, intoxicated from one too many tequila shots.

Wobbling to the ATM to get more money, to buy more tequila. They were our target.

Devin walked across the street as they struggled to get to the machine in their six-inch heels.

When they passed him, he would show concern about whether or not they were okay. They would say I'm fine and pretend like they were.

When they failed he'd catch them in his arms. He'd offer to help. Though he was young, his lean build and chiselled jawline would easily pass him for a man in his early 20s. 

Some would deny him, but most fell for his rugged charm and he'd walk them to the machine. He'd pretend not to watch what they were doing.

While at the machine, I'd come across. I'd walk nonchalantly in their direction. As they put the card in their purse, I'd bump into the victim, hear some curse words and snatch the cards.

Devin would carry the girl back to the party. We had done it three times for the night before the party was over and had managed to get $400 off of them. Enough to pay Tino for info, and enough to get some food.