Tᴏʀʏ's Dᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜs Gᴀᴍʙʟᴇ

The Deceiver's Game

Tory sat in the waiting room, her hands trembling as she stared at the flash drive Malik had hidden in his jacket. Her mind raced, replaying the events of the night. Dre was still out there. Her little brother was in surgery, fighting for his life, and now she had this—this small, unassuming piece of technology that held something big. Something Malik had been involved in, and whatever it was, people were willing to kill for it.

She glanced up when the doors to the ER swung open. A tall man with a hard expression stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room. He was dressed too clean for the block—a crisp suit and polished shoes. He didn't belong here. Tory's heart pounded as his gaze locked on her. He started walking toward her, his steps deliberate.

"Tory, right?" His voice was calm, too calm. "I'm Detective Mason. I'm investigating what happened to your brother."

Tory nodded, trying to keep her face neutral, her hand sliding the flash drive into her pocket.

Mason sat down beside her, looking her up and down like he was piecing together a puzzle. "You've had a rough night, I'm sure. But you and I both know your brother wasn't just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Tory's throat tightened. She didn't trust cops, especially ones who knew more than they let on. "What do you mean?"

Mason leaned in closer, his voice low. "I've been tracking Dre for months. Your brother got caught up in something serious, Tory. There's a reason Dre was working with him—and I think you know more than you're saying."

Tory shook her head. "I don't know anything."

Mason's eyes narrowed. "Look, I'm trying to help you. I can protect you, but only if you tell me what you know."

Tory felt the weight of the flash drive in her pocket. She couldn't trust this guy—not yet. "I told you, I don't know anything."

Mason studied her for a long moment, then stood up, slipping a card into her hand. "You're in over your head, Tory. When you're ready to talk, call me. Don't wait too long. People are going to start asking questions."

As he walked away, Tory's phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a text from an unknown number: *I know what you have. Don't be stupid. Meet me at the old warehouse on 12th. Midnight. Come alone.*

Her pulse quickened. Whoever this was, they knew about the flash drive.

She rushed to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. With shaky hands, she plugged the flash drive into her phone, scrolling through the files. There were encrypted folders, names she didn't recognize, and numbers that meant nothing to her—except for one video file. She tapped on it, her breath hitching as the video began to play.

Dre appeared on screen, pacing in a dark room, his voice low. "We move the shipment tomorrow. No mistakes. And if Malik slips up again, he's done. We don't need loose ends."

Her heart dropped. Malik had been involved in something way deeper than she thought. She kept watching, her eyes widening as Dre continued talking—only now, he wasn't alone. Another man stepped into view, his face half-hidden in the shadows. Tory's blood turned cold. It was Detective Mason.

The video cut off, leaving Tory staring at the screen in disbelief. Mason wasn't investigating Dre—he was working with him. He'd lied to her, played her.

Her phone buzzed again: *Midnight. Don't make me come looking for you.*

Tory's mind raced. She couldn't trust Mason. She couldn't trust anyone. But if she didn't show up, they would come after her—and Malik. She couldn't let that happen.

She slipped out of the hospital, pulling up the hood of her jacket as she disappeared into the night. The warehouse on 12th was abandoned, forgotten by the city, a place where shadows lived and deals went down. By the time she got there, the streets were quiet, the air heavy with tension.

As she approached the warehouse, her phone buzzed one last time: *Inside. Now.*

She pushed open the door, her heart racing. The place was dark, save for a single flickering light overhead. A figure stood in the center of the room, his back turned to her.

"Dre," she called out, trying to steady her voice.

He turned, his face twisted into a cold smile. "You brought it?"

Tory nodded, pulling the flash drive from her pocket. "What's on it?"

Dre chuckled. "You really don't know, do you? Your brother was running more than just dope for me. He was my errand boy, and he got in way over his head."

Tory's fists clenched. "And what does Mason have to do with this?"

Dre's smile faded. "Mason's been playing both sides for years. Keeps the heat off me, makes sure things stay quiet. But now, with this..." He gestured to the flash drive. "Let's just say, if that video gets out, it won't be just me going down. It'll be him—and a lot of other people who don't like to be crossed."

Tory felt her stomach twist. She was holding something bigger than she'd ever imagined.

"Hand it over, Tory," Dre said, stepping closer. "And maybe I'll forget about Malik's little screw-ups."

Tory's mind raced. She had to think fast. Dre wanted the drive. Mason was dirty. Malik was in too deep. If she handed it over, Dre would keep his control over the streets. But if she didn't...

"I'm not giving you anything," Tory said, her voice steady.

Dre's eyes darkened, his smile disappearing. "You don't have a choice."

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the warehouse. Tory spun around to see Detective Mason stepping out of the shadows, his gun raised.

"Tory, drop it," Mason ordered, his voice cold. "You're in way over your head. This is your last chance."

Tory stood frozen, caught between Dre and Mason, her heart pounding in her chest. She clutched the flash drive tightly, her mind racing with one final thought:

Who could she trust?

And just as she opened her mouth to speak, the lights cut out, plunging the warehouse into darkness.

A gunshot rang out.

And then... silence.