Sane

chapter 16

Brookhaven, New York

Niya POV

I struggle against the cold metal of the chains, panic clawing at my throat. I thought hard about my life. Everything felt so hopeless; the only thing I could do was hope and pray Dezmon would come save me before it's too late.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps echoing in the distance. My heart races as I strain to listen, praying it's him. The door creaks open, and a figure steps into the dim light. It's not Dezmon. A masked face looms over me, a smirk hidden beneath the fabric.

"Thought you could escape?" they taunt, leaning closer.

————

Dezmon POV

Dezmon stepped into the dimly lit office, the familiar scent of cigars and old leather wrapping around him like a shroud. His old boss, Vincent, looked up from his desk, surprise flickering across his face.

"Dezmon," Vincent said, leaning back in his chair, a smirk creeping onto his lips. "What brings you back? I thought you were done with this life."

"I know you had Niya taken," Dezmon replied, keeping his voice steady despite the anger boiling inside him.

Vincent's expression shifted to one of feigned innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Cut the crap," Dezmon snapped, stepping closer. "You think I wouldn't figure it out? You always had a knack for dirty work."

Vincent chuckled, but there was an edge to it. "You really think you can threaten me? You're not in charge anymore."

"I'm not here to threaten," Dezmon said, his tone low and dangerous. "I'm here to make sure she's safe. Let her go."

Vincent leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "And if I refuse? What then?"

Dezmon's jaw tightened. "Then I'll make sure everyone knows what kind of monster you are."

A tense silence filled the room as they locked eyes, both men unyielding. Finally, Vincent sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "Fine. She's at 116th Street Brooklyn,New York.But remember, Dezmon, this isn't over. You've made powerful enemies."

"I'll take my chances," Dezmon replied, turning on his heel and leaving Vincent's office with a renewed sense of purpose.

Dezmon gripped the steering wheel of his car, determination coursing through him as he navigated the streets of Brooklyn toward 116th Street. The weight of his confrontation with Vincent still lingered in his mind, but the thought of Niya's safety fueled his urgency.

As he pulled up to the address, a rundown building loomed before him, shadows creeping across the pavement. He parked quickly, scanning the area for any signs of trouble. With a deep breath, he stepped out, adrenaline surging.

"Stay focused," he muttered to himself, moving toward the entrance. Each step felt heavy with anticipation. He had come too far to let fear hold him back now.

Inside, the atmosphere was thick with tension. He could hear muffled voices echoing from a room at the end of the hall. Dezmon approached cautiously, heart racing as he edged closer to the door. He knew that every second counted; Niya was depending on him.

With a swift motion, he pushed the door open, ready to confront whatever lay ahead.