Sane

Chapter 17

Brookhaven, New York

Dezmon POV

As I pushed the door open, the scene inside hit me like a punch to the gut. There he was, a guy looming over her, his hands all over a poor, beaten-up Niya. Her eyes were half-closed, her body slumped and exhausted, as if every ounce of her strength had been drained. Anger surged through me, hot and undeniable.

Without a second thought, my hand reached for the gun tucked against my side. The weight of it felt reassuring in my grip. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing with the injustice unfolding before me. I couldn't let this continue—not for another second.

I raised the gun, my vision narrowing until all I saw was him and the fear etched on Niya's face. The world around me faded into a blur as I pulled the trigger. The sound was deafening, cutting through the silence like a blade.

Time seemed to slow as everything unfolded. The guy staggered back, shock written across his face before he crumpled to the ground. My breath came in ragged gasps, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I rushed to Niya's side, dropping to my knees beside her. Her eyes flickered open, meeting mine with a mixture of relief and disbelief. "You're safe now," I whispered, hoping she could hear the promise in my voice.

In that moment, I knew there would be consequences for what I'd done. But looking at Niya, seeing her begin to relax in the aftermath of chaos, I knew I'd made the right choice.
As I carried Niya to the car, my mind raced with the plan that had been forming ever since I pulled the trigger. I knew what killing one of my boss's men meant—war. But I was ready for it. I had no choice.

I settled Niya into the passenger seat, her eyes still wide with shock but filled with a glimmer of trust. As I started the engine, I went over my plan in my head, knowing that every detail had to be perfect.

First, I needed to gather intelligence on the gang's operations. I had to know who the key players were, their routines, and any weaknesses they might have. Information was power, and I intended to use it to strike when they least expected it.

The element of surprise would be my greatest ally. Each encounter had to be carefully orchestrated, ensuring that my targets were isolated and vulnerable. I wanted to sow confusion and fear within their ranks, making them question their own security.

Covering my tracks was crucial. I'd use disguises, change vehicles frequently, and communicate only through secure channels. Trusting no one outside of a small circle of confidants was essential—any slip-up could mean the end for both Niya and me.

Timing was everything. I'd wait for moments when the gang was distracted or weakened before striking swiftly and decisively. My goal was to dismantle them from within, creating chaos that would eventually lead to their collapse.

As we drove into the night, Niya beside me, I felt a steely resolve settle over me. The road ahead was dangerous, but I was ready to face whatever came our way. This war wasn't just about survival; it was about justice for Niya and ensuring we both had a future free from fear.