Blurred Lines

Chapter 10 - A Bullet or Two

The Warehouse Club was one of those seedy strip clubs on the outskirts of town. From the outside, it looked run-down, with flickering neon lights casting an eerie glow on the cracked pavement. The police cruiser hummed quietly as Luke parked a block away from the building. Riley glanced out the window, heart pounding in her chest.

Luke killed the engine and turned to her, his face a mask of stern concentration. "We're going in quiet, Torres. No heroics. We observe, we assess, and we wait for backup."

Riley nodded, tense, as they slipped out of the car and cautiously began walking down the alley toward the building.

"Stay close," Luke muttered as they approached.

As they crept around the side of the building, she could hear raised voices from inside. Luke signaled for her to stop, and they crouched near a busted window, just beneath the sill. The voices were loud, tense, and clearly agitated.

"This shipment was supposed to be flawless!" a man inside shouted. "And now it's wasted! All that product, gone! Do you have any idea how much money we've lost?"

"Something went wrong, boss," another voice chimed in nervously. "We don't know how, but it's all ruined."

Riley glanced at Luke, whose jaw was tight with concentration. "Drugs," she whispered. Luke nodded, his expression shifting to something sharper, more focused.

Slowly, Riley edged up toward the window and peeked inside. Her heart skipped a beat at what she saw: five men standing in a circle, one of them pacing back and forth with a gun in his hand. The man had a long, deep scar running down the side of his face, his features sharp and menacing. But what drew her attention even more was the two people tied to chairs in the middle of the room—a man and a woman, both gagged, their faces pale with fear.

The man with the scar stopped pacing and pointed his gun at them. "We need answers. Someone messed with the shipment, and if you two had anything to do with it, you're gonna pay. Now, tell me why I shouldn't blow your heads off."

Riley's pulse quickened as she dropped back into a crouch. "Luke," she whispered, pulling back from the window. "He's got a gun on two people inside—hostages. We can't wait for backup."

Luke frowned, weighing the situation. "We go in quietly. We take control before it escalates."

Riley nodded, her nerves on edge. Together, they moved toward the back entrance, creeping inside the building without a sound. The voices were still raised, and they could hear every word as they crept closer to the room where the hostages were being held.

Scarface was still speaking, though his tone had shifted slightly. "You know what? I've had enough for tonight. Let's keep them here—for now. They're not going anywhere, and we'll deal with this mess later."

The men grumbled in agreement, and Riley and Luke watched as four of them exited the room, heading toward the front of the building. Moments later, they heard car engines start up and drive away.

Luke signaled Riley to move, and they crept into the room where the two hostages were tied. Scarface had left with the others, leaving the two alone, their eyes wide with panic as Luke and Riley approached.

Luke knelt by the woman first, quickly undoing the ropes around her wrists. "You're okay," he said softly, trying to calm her down. "We're getting you out of here."

But the moment she was free, the woman bolted from the room without a word, disappearing down the hallway. Riley raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet as Luke moved to the man, who had been watching them with a strange, silent intensity.

"Who are you?" Luke asked, his voice low as he started untying the man. "What's going on here? Why did they take you?"

But the man said nothing, his expression unreadable as Luke worked on the knots.