Rythm & Grind

The next morning, the sun rose over the city, but it felt like a different place now. It wasn't just the heat that hit me as I stepped out onto the street—it was the silence. The kind of silence that wraps itself around you, making everything feel heavier, like the world is holding its breath. What happened last night was still fresh in my mind, and the weight of it was suffocating.

I couldn't stop thinking about the look on Blaze's guys' faces just before everything went down. The fear, the realization that they weren't in control anymore. They were just pawns in a game they didn't understand.

But the aftermath was what scared me the most.

I had no doubt that the streets would be talking about it—how two of Blaze's crew ended up dead in the alley. Word spread like wildfire. It wasn't just about survival anymore. This was about reputation, about making sure the whole neighborhood knew who was in charge. But none of that mattered if the law got involved.

The sound of a siren echoed in the distance, and my heart dropped.

I wasn't alone on the street. It felt like the entire neighborhood was holding its breath, waiting for something—anything—to break the quiet. I quickly checked my phone. No messages. No word from Dre, Jax, or Troy. Nothing.

Then, just as I was starting to feel like maybe it wasn't as bad as I feared, the sound of another siren pierced the air, louder this time. My pulse quickened.

The cops were coming.

I didn't waste time standing around. I turned on my heel and started walking faster, but I wasn't running—not yet. I wasn't the one they'd be after. I knew that. Not if I kept my head low and stayed out of sight. But I needed to know what was happening.

I ducked down the side street, keeping to the shadows. The squad cars raced past, their lights flashing, but they weren't stopping. Not yet. They had a mission.

As I rounded the corner, I saw them.

Three squad cars screeched to a halt at the entrance to the alley where it had all gone down. The officers flooded out, some pulling on gloves, others checking their equipment. There was no mistaking it—they were here for business. The crime scene wasn't just a small matter now. It was a statement.

I kept my distance, staying low and out of sight, watching from a few feet down the block. I needed to know what they found, if anything.

Two detectives walked into the alley first, and I could see the flashlights scanning the ground. Their eyes were sharp, moving over every inch of the pavement. One of them, a tall guy with salt-and-pepper hair, bent down and inspected the area. I could tell by the way he moved that he'd done this a thousand times before. He was a veteran, and he wasn't missing anything.

"Nothing here," he muttered, standing up. His partner, a younger cop, crouched down to double-check.

I couldn't hear everything they were saying, but I could see the frustration building. They were looking for evidence—something that would point them to who was responsible—but it was like they were hitting dead ends. Nothing tied anyone to the scene. Nothing but a mess of blood and broken glass.

The officer with the salt-and-pepper hair stood up and spoke into his radio. "No shell casings. No ID. It's like they vanished into thin air."

I felt a knot tighten in my chest. They were going to find something. They had to.

But they didn't.

They kept searching the alley, but it was clean—too clean. The bodies were gone, removed before the cops arrived. Whoever was behind this had thought it through, made sure there was no trace of the weapons, no fingerprints, no footprints leading back to them. They'd left nothing behind but a few bloodstains that were already starting to dry under the hot morning sun.

And then there was the vanishing act.

I knew Dre and his crew didn't leave anything to chance. They weren't just out here committing random violence—they were covering their tracks. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it sooner. They'd been smart, real smart. They knew that the cops would be here fast, and they'd prepared for it.

The bodies were taken—carted away to places unknown, no sign of where they'd gone. Any sign of the struggle was wiped clean, the blood washed away by some means that only Dre and his guys knew about. Even the shell casings—those were gone.

At the far end of the alley, I saw Dre standing in the shadows, leaning against a car with his arms crossed. He hadn't come close to the scene, but he was keeping an eye on it. He had to know how it would play out. And when the cops started asking questions, he was prepared for it.

I met his eyes for a split second, and the tension between us was thick. He didn't say anything—he didn't have to. I knew what he meant: this was their turf, their world, and the cops were just visitors.

And Dre wasn't going to let anyone take what was his.

Hours later, after the cops had packed up and left the scene with nothing to show for it, I met up with Jax and Troy at one of the local bars. It was a hole-in-the-wall spot that the cops wouldn't bother with—no reason for them to show up here unless they had a reason.

Dre had already sent word: no one was to talk. No one was to slip up.

The last thing we needed was the cops coming after us. Not when there was so much at stake.

Jax was the first to speak when I sat down at the table. "Cops didn't find shit," he said with a grin, leaning back in his chair. "We cleaned it up right."

Troy nodded, taking a sip of his drink. "Too easy. They don't know what hit 'em."

I couldn't help but feel a cold thrill run through me. They were right. We were in the clear. For now, at least.

But I knew things wouldn't stay quiet for long. Blaze was going to be pissed—his crew's two most loyal guys were gone, and there was no explanation for it. Not unless they figured out it was us. But even if they did, would they have any evidence? Not a chance.

We were invisible.

For now, at least.

But nothing ever stayed that way for long.

In the back of my mind, I could already hear the rumblings of what was coming. Blaze wasn't just gonna let this slide. He'd come for me again. But now I knew what it took to survive. And I wasn't backing down.

It was just a matter of time before the next round began.