CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

TORI

THE WAR

D uring my first therapy session, we didn’t delve too deeply into the trauma that has shaped my life. Instead, we focused on how it often takes control and how I need to reclaim my position as the one in control.

The therapist’s words were helpful, especially considering what I had planned for this weekend.

Last night, my friends and I gathered at the warehouse to unwind. It was great to have that time to discuss our plan.

Cloaked in all black, with my head hung low, I stood alone in the center of the quiet street lined with cars. The hoodie shielded the sides of my face from the harsh October Chicago winds.

I peeked at the house behind me - a pile of rubble and twisted metal, a stark reminder of what used to be there.

My eyes darted up at the house across from the rubble, a sly grin creeping onto my lips. I pushed my hands into my hoodie pocket and strode casually down the street.

When I reached the second house, two houses away from where the playhouse once stood, I paused. My fingers tightened around the detonator. With a smirk curling my lips, I pressed the button.

The explosion echoed loudly through the early morning silence, setting off car alarms and causing me to jolt involuntarily. But despite the impact of the blast, I couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline course through me.

“Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?” I chuckled to myself as I continued on my way.

Sliding into the rear passenger seat of the unmarked black Expedition, I buckled in. Ezra’s hands gripped the wheel as he maneuvered us away from the scene. In the third row, Bianca tapped furiously at her keyboard.

“The neighborhood cameras are on a loop,” Bianca reported, her voice calm.

“Perfect,” I replied, reaching into my duffel bag. I retrieved my AR-fifteen, slinging the strap over my shoulder. My gloved hand rested on the rifle as my gaze shifted to Asia to my left. Her black hoody hid her fresh auburn-colored tiny, long braids that were pulled back in a low ponytail. She’d flown in early yesterday morning with back up. She sent her bodyguards to pick up her hair braider. Shenika was real hood. So she wasn’t scared of the danger that surrounded us. Asia paid her paid handsomely for discretion. Shenika was driven to the warehouse blindfolded and wore headphones so she couldn’t hear what was going on around her. We had to be careful when bringing people to the warehouse. Only those we trusted could openly know where it was located.

Simone sat in the front passenger seat, her husband Ezra’s protective presence palpable even as he focused on the road. This wasn’t just a team—it was family. A tight-knit unit built on loyalty, trust, and survival.

As much as I longed to think about my handsome husband, I couldn’t afford distractions. My mind had to stay focused on the imminent threat of Tyra and her crew.

“Fuck,” Ezra growled, glancing through the rearview mirror. “We have company. Girls, brace yourselves.”

The SUV lurched forward, my seatbelt digging into me as we were rammed from behind.

“Everyone okay?” Ezra asked, his voice tight.

“We’re good,” Asia answered for the group, her tone steady.

“Ezra, make a left at the next light,” Bianca instructed.

Asia and I pulled our skull masks over our faces and grabbed our AR-fifteens out of our duffel bags.

A silent nod passed between us before we rolled down our windows.

“Brock, come in, please.”

“Tori, go ahead.”

“Hold your position,” I ordered.

“Okay,” he responded.

Leaning out the window, I peered through the scope. The smell of smoke lingered as I pulled the trigger, but the bullets ricocheted off its reinforced body.

Shit, it’s not the end of the world.

“Brock, we’re coming in hot,” I announced.

I reached into my bag, pulling out a grenade. With a swift pull of the pin, I lobbed it under the pursuing vehicle.

The explosion sent the SUV soaring into the air, a fiery mushroom cloud billowing into the sky.

Ezra wasted no time turning where Bianca had directed him.

As we sped away, Brock fell in line behind us. It was important that we waited for our back up to fall into place when we were en route to the next spot.

“We’ve got company,” Brock stated over the earpiece.

A cocky smirk spread across my lips as I glanced out the rear window. One truck after another turned onto the street behind us, forming a diamond formation.

“Is everyone in position?” I asked over the earpiece.

A chorus of affirmations echoed in my ear.

“Ezra, open the roof halfway,” I commanded.

The SUV’s retractable roof slid open, and Asia and I quickly harnessed ourselves to the vehicle, securing each other for the onslaught.

Asia and I tied our hoodie strings tight so the wind wouldn’t blow our hoods off.

“Asia, Simone, are y’all ready?” I asked.

“Born ready, baby,” Asia chuckled.

“You know it,” Simone responded.

I glanced at Simone. She leaned out the window, gripping her AR-fifteen. She’d handle the SUVs on the right so Asia and I could focus on our enemies in the rear and on Asia’s right.

We stood up to our full height, laughing as we faced the brutal wind whipping around us. Through my sniper rifle scope, I could see one of the SUVs break formation and head towards Brock’s position. I squeezed the trigger just in time, followed by a burst of fire from all of our weapons.

One of the men in the SUV aimed a Glock at us.

“Bad idea, bitch,” Asia yelled as she shot the gun out of his hand. Blood sprayed onto the side of the vehicle.

“Ah,” he yelped as he decreased his speed.

“Fuck, yeah, asshole,” I shouted.

“Move in now,” I ordered over the earpiece.

Luckily, it was still early in the morning. We rained down on the assholes before dawn.

But one persistent man drove past Brock and aimed a sawed-off shotgun in our direction.

“Pull slightly to your left, Ezra,” I commanded.

Ezra jerked the SUV to the left.

My heart raced as I took aim and fired round after round until finally, one of my bullets smacked the man in the forehead. His rifle clanked to the ground.

“Bianca, where are we with their boss’s whereabouts?” I asked.

“I know where she is. We need to get rid of all her extra help,” Bianca said.

“Bianca, I couldn’t agree more,” I snickered.

“Let’s light ‘em up,” I yelled.

With a gloved finger pressed firmly on the trigger, we unleashed a barrage of bullets onto the vehicles behind Brock until they came to a stop and forced their crew to swerve around them. Our backup joined in from side streets on either side of the road, creating a symphony of metal crashing as we continued down the road. After successfully taking out their reinforcements, Asia and I saluted our backup before settling back into the SUV.

The rest of our entourage slipped down side streets, leaving just Brock following behind us.

After we unhooked our harnesses and yanked our masks down, we sat in our seats.

“That was exhilarating,” I chirped.

“Woo who,” Simone howled.

Bianca smiled from ear to ear.

“That felt good destroying those assholes,” Asia stated.

Ezra sneaked a glance at Simone before focusing back on the road. “It wasn’t for me,” Ezra growled, gripping her thigh.

“Simone, if something happened to your friends, I would’ve had to answer to their husbands.”

Simone leaned over, kissing his lips. “We kicked ass,” she purred.

Was our best friend about to fuck her husband in front of us?

“Bianca, please tell Ezra where to go so we can roll up on that bitch,” I stated.

“On it,” Bianca replied.

Simone sank back into her seat after calming her husband down.

“I can’t wait to see that bitch’s face,” Bianca snickered, before rattling off the directions to Ezra confidently.

Ezra rolled to a stop near a weathered group of warehouses.

Several men patrolled the perimeter. My lips tipped upward. “Bianca, great job finding Tyra’s headquarters.”

She had an army of men. Where did she get the money to fund her artillery and team?

Daryl had betrayed us all, leaving Tyra a hefty sum of money and trying to pave her way as the next Man-Man. But I wouldn’t let that happen. My father was back where he belonged - in control of the Southside. And no one would dare try to take it from us again.

As we geared up to find Tyra, I could feel the tension and excitement building among my girls. We were a force to be reckoned with - fierce and determined.

“Time to move out,” I barked, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

“The warehouse on the left. We’ll stick to the perimeter and take out the guards,” I said, my voice cold and resolute.

“Got it,” Aisha replied, already slipping silently out of the SUV like a shadow.

We moved low and fast, weaving behind buildings. Ezra, always one step ahead, darted past us, rifle at the ready. It was his job to protect us—protect me. I hated how much I relied on him, but damn it, I loved how he kept us safe.

Ezra crouched, peering through the scope of his rifle.

Simone’s eyes lit up behind her mask as she caught sight of her husband in action. It was almost too cute, considering the situation we were in.

Ezra moved swiftly, each movement calculated and precise. The rest of us followed suit, taking out each gunman with swift efficiency. Bullets flew past us as we made our way towards the back entrance.

Brock pulled up the rear. “Keep moving,” his voice came through our earpieces, urging us on.

Bodies hit the ground, blood pooling beneath them as we formed a tight line behind Ezra. He planted C-four near the lock of the door, his hands steady as ever. He stepped back as he pressed the detonator. The explosive barely made a sound, but the door flew open like it had been hit by a wrecking ball.

Ezra led the charge, firing at the men inside before they could react. The warehouse erupted in chaos—gunfire, shouting, the acrid tang of smoke filling the air.

A sudden, searing pain tore through my body. I stumbled but kept going. Not now. Don’t stop now. My mind locked on one thing: Tyra. That bitch had to die.

How would I explain this to Ritchie?

I saw a flash of movement—a figure in black sprinting toward the front entrance. I knew that run. We’d only been friends for years.

She glanced back, her Glock barking as she fired blindly at us. I didn’t stop to check if anyone was hit. I just ran.

“Tori, no!” Ezra’s voice was sharp, almost panicked.

“Cover me!” I yelled, my finger squeezing the trigger as I dropped the men shielding Tyra.

“Time to die, bitch,” I growled through gritted teeth as I aimed my weapon at her.

Her smirking face only fueled my anger as she aimed her gun back at me. With a loud bang, her bullet struck me in the chest.

“Oof.” I staggered, the pain radiating through my arm like wildfire, causing my hand to shake.

The bitch shot me in the fucking breast.

But I wasn’t done. Not yet. I aimed and pulled the trigger. My bullet struck her leg, and she crumpled with a scream.

“Ahhh!” she cried, limping toward the exit.

Suddenly, a shot came from beside me. The bullet hit her hand, sending her Glock clattering to the floor.

“You fucking bitch,” Tyra shrieked.

“I’ll be your bitch today,” Asia sneered.

“Can you zip tie her?” I asked weakly, feeling blood oozing down my stomach from where one of the bullets had struck me below my vest. “I’ve been shot... multiple times.”

“Tori!” Aisha’s eyes widened in horror. “No, no, no!”

“Simone, get over here!” Aisha cried.

Gunfire erupted around us again, deafening and relentless. I let my rifle drop to my side, drawing my Glock. My shots were sloppy, my hand trembling, but I wouldn’t stop.

Ezra and Brock stormed in like a hurricane, cutting down the remaining men. Ezra tossed a grenade toward the front entrance. The explosion shook the ground beneath us, the smell of charred flesh hitting me like a wave.

My legs gave out.

“I got you,” Ezra said, his arms wrapping around me.

“Girls, grab Tyra. We’re leaving,” he ordered.

My vision blurred as I struggled to stay conscious. “We got her?” I managed to ask.

“Yeah, we got her,” Ezra replied, determination etched on his face.

My eyelids felt heavy as the cold air hit my face. Was he running?

“Ritchie’s going to be upset,” I mumbled, my voice faint.

“Stay with me,” Ezra said firmly.

Images of Ritchie holding me flashed through my mind, and I longed for his comforting embrace.

Maybe it was time to take a break after this.

I felt the warmth of a hand curl around mine.

“Look at us, Tori,” Bianca demanded, her voice breaking.

My eyes fluttered open. Tears streamed down her face.

“We’re on our way to the warehouse. We got her.”

“Don’t you dare die on us,” Simone cried, cradling my head in her lap.

In the distance, Tyra laughed—a cold, sharp sound. “I hope that bitch chokes on her own blood,” she spat.

“Shut the fuck up, Tyra,” Asia yelled, her anger palpable as she supported my weight alongside Bianca.

My body felt heavy, my vision dimming as their voices blurred.

“We love you, Tori,” Asia choked out, her voice trembling.

In that moment, surrounded by my sisters in arms, I felt loved and supported despite the dire situation.

Their words of love washed over me like a balm before my eyelids finally closed for the last time.

I felt something warm and heavy on my hand. Slowly, my eyes fluttered open, trying to adjust to the light.

“Where... am I?” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Where the fuck you belong,” a deep voice growled.

My head turned to the right, and a smile tugged at my lips. “Ritchie?”

There he was, sitting beside me, looking utterly exhausted. His brown hair was disheveled, sticking out in all directions, and dark circles shadowed his intense gray eyes. His pink lips were pressed into a thin, unforgiving line. My husband was pissed.

A tear slipped down my cheek, unbidden. “I’m sorry for stressing you out,” I murmured, guilt lacing my voice.

His thick brows lifted, and his angular jaw slackened for a moment. “Tori, I love you, but...”

My breath hitched as his words hung in the air. My eyes widened, and I tugged at my hand, trying to free it from his firm grasp.

“I’m too much to handle,” I blurted, finishing the sentence I dreaded.

His grip tightened, and his eyes narrowed. “You think that’s what I’m saying?”

“You want a divorce,” I said, my voice trembling. “Ritchie, you deserve someone easier—someone who doesn’t come with all my chaos.”

Still holding my hand, he reached for the pink pitcher on the nightstand and brought it close to my lips. I lifted my head off the pillow and my lips latched onto the straw, I eagerly drank down the water before releasing it. He placed the pitcher back on the nightstand.

“Are you finished?” He asked through gritted teeth.

I glared at him without saying a word.

“I was going to say how upset I was that you got shot again. Not sure how you took my words so far out of context. And remember, I’m Italian; divorce is not an option. You are my wife and we are bound to each other, no matter what. Stop trying to push me away.”

He gently caressed my cheek. “I am angry, and so are Catch, Rémy, and Romeo. All of you were blinded by rage and ended up getting shot. You just had to go after Tyra. Now Arlis will remove your catheter, and I will clean you up so you can finally confront your prisoner.”

“So the girls left something for me?” I inquired.

It seemed like they didn’t kill Tyra yet. They probably tortured her within an inch of her life.

“She’s in the torture room down the hall. We’ll take her to the living room where you and the girls will take turns torturing her,” he paused. “Together.”

I released a breath and pain swept through my stomach. I resisted the urge to palm my wound. I didn’t want Ritchie to keep me in the bed longer.

“You’ve all been resting for a week.” He smirked.

My eyes widened. “What?”

Ritchie leaned over and kissed me softly. “Yup, we sedated you ladies,” he said, his tone steady but firm.

“Ritchie,” I growled, my voice rising with irritation.

“After you’re done with Tyra, once and for all, you’re coming back to Jersey for a while,” he declared. “You can meet with your therapist over Zoom.”

Silence stretched between us as I tried to process his words.

“I understand, Ritchie,” I said finally, the fight in me momentarily dimmed.

He took my hand, his expression softening. “We’re going to start working on a family.”

“Ritchie, I told you we should wait,” I protested.

His smile faltered, replaced by something heavier. “Arlis ran a few tests,” he said quietly. “That bullet you took... it’ll make it harder for you to have children. It doesn’t mean it’s impossible, but we’ll have to work at it. It might take time before we see a positive pregnancy test.”

I blinked, stunned. “But I was wearing a bulletproof vest,” I murmured.

“Tori, at this point, we need body armor designed to protect every inch of you,” he said firmly. “I won’t risk your life like that again.”

His voice softened, but the weight of his words didn’t lessen. “Arlis has scheduled surgery to repair the damage. And don’t go stomping Tyra’s chest when you torture her, okay?”

I blinked a few times, trying to wrap my head around everything he’d just said.

“I’ll be right back,” he stated, standing abruptly and stalking out of the room.

Left alone with my thoughts, they wandered back to Tyra. That bitch had shot me in my left breast. I hoped I could still breastfeed.

Yanking the hospital gown down to expose my breast, I winced at the sight of the nasty bruise marring my skin. The pain was dull, likely muted by the medication coursing through my veins.

Even though I hadn’t felt ready to have a baby, the thought of losing the chance at motherhood stung in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I could almost see it—a little one who was a perfect mix of Ritchie and me.

Tyra had nearly stolen that dream from me.

And for that, she would pay dearly.