Amarie and Chris never spent a day apart until their love was forcefully ripped away from one another. They now live completely separate lives battling with their inner demons. They wish for the day they could be together again but they don't think...
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The tension in the room was almost palpable as we all sat in uneasy silence, unable to find solace in sleep. The air was thick with anticipation, each of us lost in our thoughts about what might come next. The men had gone off to confront the danger we all feared, and our collective anxiety was a heavy burden. We clung to hope, but deep down, each of us braced for the worst. The only thing left to do was wait for a call, hoping for any news that might offer a glimmer of reassurance.
As the first light of dawn began to creep through the windows, I glanced around at the makeshift safe house. The sun's rays painted a pale gold across the room, promising the start of a new day. I sighed, hoping that we would receive an update before the children woke. Over by the couch, Melanie and Mama J were curled up together, their exhaustion overcoming their fears as they drifted into a restless sleep. Ariana was similarly caught in the grip of sleep, her head lolling against the armrest. Sharea, with her eyes fixed on the wall, seemed lost in her own world of worry, while Carlos sat silently beside her, a silent sentinel of support.
I straddled the window, my gaze locked on the emerging light, when the unmistakable rumble of engines interrupted the morning calm. My heart skipped a beat as two black Escalades pulled up the driveway, their tires crunching against the gravel. My breath caught in my throat. "They're back," I said, my voice trembling with a mixture of hope and dread.
I sprang to the door, only to be met by a sight that twisted my gut. As the door swung open, I saw not the faces I had hoped for, but a group of men whose presence sent a chill through me. "Fuck," I muttered, slamming the door shut and turning the locks with frantic quickness. My hands were shaking as I reached for my purse, pulling out my gun with a desperate urgency. "Go upstairs! The Irish are here!" I shouted, my voice echoing with fear and determination.
The sound of the door being kicked in was loud, making me jump. I turned to see four white males charging into the room, their presence intimidating and menacing. Dylan followed casually, a smug smile playing on his lips.
"Get the fuck out before I empty my clip," I threatened, leveling my gun at them. The ladies and Carlos huddled together on the stairs, their faces etched with terror.
Dylan's smile widened as he casually addressed me. "Oh, beautiful, you're not going to shoot me. The minute you do, my friends here are going to make sure your little group pays for it," He said, gesturing toward the terrified faces of Melanie and the others. Tears began to stream down their faces as fear took over. "Now give me the gun before you do something you'll regret."
He strode toward me with a predatory grace, snatching the gun from my trembling hand. Before I could react, he struck me hard across the face with the butt of the weapon. The force of the blow sent me sprawling to the floor, and I heard gasps from the others. I spat out a mouthful of blood onto Dylan's expensive business shoes, my eyes filled with a mix of pain and defiance.
"Summer did tell me you were the difficult one. I see why now," Dylan taunted, his voice dripping with malice.
"What?" Melanie's anguished cry echoed from the top of the stairs. My heart sank as I looked down at the scene unfolding. Anger and defeat roiled within me, mixing with the pain of betrayal.
