Allure...to powerfully attract or charm; tempt.
It was the physical attraction that they believed kept them coming back, but in reality, it was more than that. Two broken souls, unaware to the fact the fix was one another.
I wasn't gonna give Autumn a faceclaim since there's a lot of characters already, but whatever. That's Autumn^
Chapter 17: Moment of truth
April 8th 2:25 am
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L̶O̶S̶ A̶N̶G̶E̶L̶E̶S̶,̶ C̶A̶L̶I̶F̶O̶R̶N̶I̶A̶
O̸M̸N̸I̸S̸C̸I̸E̸N̸T̸
"She is unconscious right now, she suffered from multiple rib fractures, heavy internal bleeding, a punctured lung, and lots of swelling to her face. We put her through emergency surgery which was successful, however we do have her on a breathing tube until her lung strengthens back up." The doctor explained to everyone who sat in the hospital waiting room. Everyone but Syre.
Instead, he sat in the dark club that was completely emptied out. He gained access in, being that Isabelle's baby father owned it. So gaining access upstairs to the security cameras wasn't difficult.
His face was calm and expressionless as he replayed the footage for the 86th time, pen in hand with a nearly full sheet of paper in front of him. In columns, he wrote down any and everything he could make out of each individual person. They were covered in ski masks, but lacked gloves and neck protection, exposing all of their tattoos, scars, and markings.
"Rookie ass niggas." Syre mumbled to himself, pausing the footage again. Zooming in, he shook his head making out the last chess piece tattoo which all the men had on them. All of them had one of the 6 chess pieces inked into their skin right on their inner wrist, one pawn, one bishop, one knight, one rook, one queen, and finally one king. Syre could only make out the tops of each tattoo, but that was enough for him.
Grabbing his phone, he quickly dialed Isaiah's number, placing the phone between his ear and shoulder while moving over to search tattoo artists in Florida. Specifically Miami where Akeem's gang resided.
"Nigga where the fuck you at-."
"Listen, Miami pseudonym...checkers or chess?" He wasn't necessarily speaking in code, but he spoke with as minimal detail as possible.
"Chess" Isaiah answered, and Syre froze for a second until a wide grin spread along his face. Chuckling to himself, he leaned back in his seat with his focus on the screen. Barely having to even search once the 6th artist to pop up had those exact same chess pieces displayed to show his catalogue of tattoos.
"Okay..." He mumbled, flicking his eyes between the 6 zoomed in tattoos and the artists work.
"Aight imma fuck with you-."
"Wait...uh, how she doing?" Syre cleared his throat, mentally cursing at himself for how shaky his voice was out of nervousness.
"She alive, but it ain't looking too good. Not that she gon die or nun, but she's still unconscious...broke ribs, punctured lung, breathing tube, she don't even look recognizable with the amount of swelling and bruising she got on her face. You could tell it was all niggas." He explained, and with the more he said, the more Syre's face hardened back.
