Page 95 of Collateral Love
She nodded once.
A few moments later, I felt a shift in pressure.
The air tightened and then–Boom.
The wall to my left detonated.
Concrete explodes inward, dust and shrapnel spraying like a rain of shrapnel. The blast rattled my teeth, punching the breath from my lungs. I cured instinctively, chains biting into my wrists as the room filled with smoke and screaming.
Boots hit the floor.
The sound was heavy and deliberate.
I heard gunfire erupt in short, controlled bursts. I blinked through the haze, ears ringing, heart slamming so hard it hurt. I saw figures moving through the smoke like silhouettes cut from violence itself.
I saw two figures well over 6 feet armed and masked. Despite the debris, I heard my bestie’s voice.
It was low, calm, and unmistakable.
“The left is clear. Grab her.”
My chest caves in so hard it almost knocks me unconscious.
Another voice answers him—deep and cold.
“Hall secured.”
I stared at Xavier in awe. He was no longer the boy who played the Wii all day. He wasn’t
The quiet brother who used to watch corners while Zay moved loudly.
This version of X moves like death learned patience.
A guard lunged toward me.
He didn’t make it two steps before shots rang out, and the man dropped mid-stride.
“Kenya!”
I turn my head just as the smoke thins.
And I see her.
My baby sister Chanel sent that shot
She wasn’t shaken, frozen, or screaming. She stood in tactical black, hair pulled back tight, eyes locked forward like she’s been doing this her whole life. A Glock steady in her hands. No hesitation or fear.
One of the guards swung a rifle up.
She doesn’t flinch.
She steps inside his reach andfired her gun twice—once to the knee, once to the throat.
He collapses, choking, blood spraying across the floor.
My stomach flipped from shock.
That’s not the Chanel I left reading romance novels in her childhood bedroom.
