Chapter 6 - The North Side Warehouse
The rain was coming down in sheets by the time Sadi’s battered Honda Civic pulled up half a block away from the North Side shipping yards.
She had taken a bus part of the way, then ran through the freezing downpour until her sneakers were waterlogged and her cheap coat clung to her skin like a shroud.
The North Side warehouse was a sprawling, corrugated-metal monstrosity surrounded by rusted chain-link fences and towering stacks of shipping containers. Three black SUVs were parked haphazardly outside the main loading bay, their headlights cutting blinding cones through the sheets of rain.
Gunfire cracked through the night air.
Pop. Pop-pop.
Sadi’s breath caught in her throat. She ducked low behind a stack of wooden pallets, her hands trembling so violently she could barely steady her phone.
Inside the warehouse, shadow figures moved rapidly past the high frosted windows. Shouts, the heavy thud of fists against flesh, and the terrifying echo of shattering glass cut through the storm.
She couldn't just sit here.
If Vincent died tonight because he had stepped into a crossfire meant to protect her brother’s mess, she would never forgive herself.
Sadi crept forward along the chain-link fence, finding a rusted breach where the wire had been peeled back. She squeezed through, tearing the sleeve of her coat on a jagged point, and sprinted toward the side service door of the warehouse.
The door was unlocked—left ajar in the chaos.
She slipped inside.
The interior was a cavernous maze of stacked crates, forklifts, and hanging work lights that swung wildly from the rafters, casting long, dizzying shadows across the concrete floor.
Ten yards away, three of Jimmy O’Connor’s thugs were circling a pillar, holding baseball bats and handguns, speaking in frantic whispers.
“Find the boss! Sweep the back!” one of them yelled.
Sadi’s heart pounded against her ribs like a sledgehammer. She backed away slowly, her foot catching against a loose metal pipe on the floor.
Clatter.
The sound echoed off the corrugated walls like a gunshot.
All three thugs spun around instantly, their eyes locking onto her standing frozen near a stack of wooden crates.
“Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” the lead thug grinned nastily, raising his pistol. “Costa’s little pet. Grab her. The old man is going to love using her as leverage.”
Sadi turned and sprinted toward the maze of crates, her lungs burning, her sneakers skidding on the slick concrete.
Footsteps pounded behind her—heavy, relentless, and closing fast.
She rounded a corner into a dead-end aisle piled high with steel drums. She spun around, her back hitting the cold metal, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the first thug rounded the corner, grinning with a sickening, predatory satisfaction.
He raised his gun, pointing it straight at her chest.
“End of the line, sweetheart.”
Before he could pull the trigger, a heavy shadow dropped silently from the rafters directly behind him.
A gloved hand wrapped around the thug’s throat with the force of a hydraulic press, slamming his face headfirst into the steel drums with a sickening crunch. The man slumped to the floor, unconscious before he even hit the concrete.
The other two thugs rushed around the corner, weapons drawn—only to find themselves staring down the barrel of Vincent Costa’s Beretta.
Two rapid, deafening shots echoed through the warehouse.
Both men dropped their weapons, clutching their bleeding shoulders as they fell to their knees in agony.
Silence rushed back into the warehouse, heavy and smelling of cordite and rain.
Vincent lowered his gun. His dark coat was splattered with mud, his knuckles bruised and bleeding, his breathing heavy. He didn't look at the wounded men on the floor.
His eyes locked entirely on Sadi.
May you like
He crossed the distance between them in three long strides, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shoved her flat against the steel drums behind her, his body shielding her completely.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?!” Vincent roared, his voice shaking with a fury that terrified her more than the guns. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
