Winning His War

32

Jem's POV

My speed didn't drop below 70 as I drove to the attacked warehouse. Thank god it was one of our smaller houses so not much could have been taken and even if there are causalities, there won't be as many as there would have been if they attacked a bigger one.

Still, the entire drive my mind punished me. Every worse case scenario flooded my brain. How many were hurt? How many were dead? Had they stole anything? What was their goal?

My heart was pounding while the familiar pressure and anger in my chest began building up and I didn't bother trying to stop it. I couldn't allow myself to be anxious or show my panic when I got to the warehouse.

Who ever was left there needed be assured that everything was fine and would be handled. They needed to know that I was as confident as ever and that this will be nothing but a sad memory the second I stepped out the car.

But for now, I don't scold myself for the lump in my throat or for the fact that the panic has made my fingertips go numb.

The nearly hour long drive was torture and by the time I was pulling up to the parking lot, it was already well past dark.

I forced myself to take one last breath as I turned the car off. I pushed down the lump in my throat while I wiped the panic from my face, replacing it with a calm yet stoic expression.

I take a quick look in the review mirror to make sure I looked as convincing as I had hoped before opening the car door and heading to the warehouse entrance.

A few other cars littered the parking lot. Light shown brightly from the windows and allowed me to see the bullet casings that were scattered everywhere.

A few drops of blood colored the pavement but it wasn't enough to so much damage. I could only hope it was the blood of one of my guys who came out fine rather than who ever did this getting off so unscathed.

Though I doubted there was any real threat left, my hand rested on the pistol that was wedge in my waistband.

The second I stepped through the door, everyone who was left turned to stare at me, all of their guns raised in my direction until they realized who it was.

The second they understood, their guns fell and the hostile energy left the room- really all energy left the room. Those who weren't dying were exhausted and those who weren't exhausted were too shaken to keep up the strong act for long.

Some were being forced to lie on the ground while others kept pressure on the wounds. Only about 30 people work in this warehouse, 20 of which were on shift due to the shipment, yet only 12 people stood in front of me.

My eyes ran across their faces quickly, taking survey of the ones who made it.

"Kellan," I asked when I didn't see his face among the survivors. Kellan was the head of the warehouse. He has a wife and two kids with a third on the way. He's been with the gang even before I took it over.

When I took over he was expected his first kid and he had left. He wanted his family to be safe from my life. He came to me, scared out of his mind at being jumped out yet he knew he couldn't stay.

I trusted him though. I knew he wouldn't sell us out so a beating would do nothing but make his wife nervous for no reason, putting stress on the child that wasn't even born yet. So I let him leave without the beating.

I helped him get a job, a respectable one at that, but I made him get a job that Jesse Hayes didn't own just to ensure that nothing would happen if it came out who Jesse really was. Turned out, that was a bad idea. The company I got him to work for made budget cuts and he was downsized. His first-born was already 2 at that point and his second child was due in a month.