Page 31 of Breeding Justice

The room fell silent, the kind of silence that has weight to it, like a thick, oppressive fog. I could almost hear the gears in Hassan’s head turning, grinding against each other. He knew we were right, but knowing and accepting were two different things.

He looked back at SJ, who was now carefully stacking blocks from a bag Dante had packed. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost defeated. “Fine. We drive. But if he so much as gets a scratch…”

“He’ll be fine,” I said, though I wasn’t entirely sure. “We’ll all be fine.”

Hassan turned away, his body a tight coil of suppressed energy. I knew he was counting on more than just our plans andprecautions. He was counting on the kind of luck that had been in short supply for all of us lately.

The safe house might have been dimly lit and unadorned, but the emotions swirling within it were anything but. As I watched Hassan walk over to SJ and gently ruffle his hair, I hoped that our makeshift family would hold together long enough to see this through.

Dante stood and stretched, his smirk returning. “Get some rest. We leave at dawn.”

With that, he left the room, leaving Hassan and me in a silence that was more uncomfortable than confrontational. I started to say something, thought better of it, and walked out.

***

In the gray morning light, the alley behind the safe house took on a desolate, almost post-apocalyptic feel. Piles of snow, turned to soot-laden slush, lined the brick walls of neighboring buildings. The cold bit through jackets and settled into bones, an unwelcome guest that refused to leave.

Dante stood with a casual authority, his hands deep in the pockets of his peacoat. In front of him, a blacked-out SUV sat idling, its exhaust creating a plume of white in the frigid air. Hassan held SJ, who was squirming and whining, his little hands trying to grab the toy car Hassan had tucked into hispocket. He rocked him back and forth, his face a mask of exhausted frustration.

Dante tossed the keys to Hassan, who caught them with one hand, the other still cradling the restless toddler. “It’s all set,” Dante said. “Routes, safe houses, contingencies. You’ll be off the grid the whole way.”

I walked around the SUV, checking the tires, the oil, the gas. My hands were numb, but my mind was sharp, ticking through a mental checklist. We couldn’t afford any surprises.

SJ’s cries echoed off the alley walls as Hassan tried to calm him. He retrieved a snack from one of the duffel bags Dante had provided, but SJ shoved it away with a determined “No!” before bursting into tears.

“We’ll make it,” I said, more to myself than anyone else. “The vehicle’s solid.”

Dante’s eyes flicked to me, then back to Hassan. “You know I’d come if I could. But someone needs to stay and protect Jade.”

Hassan managed to wrestle SJ into the car seat in the back of the SUV. The little boy kicked and screamed, but Hassan’s big hands moved with the care of a bomb technician. “We know,” Hassan said, slamming the rear door shut. “We’re grateful.”

Dante shrugged. “Gratitude’s not necessary. Just make sure you get there in one piece. I’ll be monitoring your progress. If Vito makes a move, I’ll handle it.”

I moved to the driver’s side and opened the door, letting the warm air from the cabin wash over me. “We appreciate it, Dante. Really.”

Dante nodded, his smirk fading into something more serious. “This isn’t just about you, you know. If Vito gets SJ, everything unravels. If Vito gets more power, before he dies…fuck, I don’t even want to think about it. All our operations will be unreveled.”

Hassan walked over to Dante, the two men standing eye to eye. Hassan paused, looking at Dante with a mix of worry and determination. “We’ll keep him safe,” he said, his voice firm.

For a moment, it looked like Dante might say something more, something deeper. Instead, he clapped a hand on Hassan’s shoulder. “Good luck.”

Hassan turned and walked back to the SUV, opening the passenger door and retrieving one of the duffel bags. He started to head back into the building, then stopped and looked at Dante. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

Dante didn’t hesitate. “Jade’s a survivor. Now go. You’ve got a long drive ahead.”

Hassan disappeared into the building, leaving me alone with Dante. I closed the driver’s door and leaned against the SUV, crossing my arms to conserve what little body heat I had left.

Dante didn’t move, didn’t speak. He stood in the cold, staring at the SUV, his face unreadable but his eyes holding the kind of intensity that came from years of making hard decisions.

***

I gripped the steering wheel of the SUV so hard my knuckles turned white, my palms slick against the leather. The morning rush hour had transformed the streets of New York City into a chaotic maze, and every honk, swerve, and impatient driver added another layer of tension to my already frayed nerves. My eyes darted from the road to the rearview mirror, then to the side mirrors, scanning with the precision of a hawk hunting for danger.

In the backseat, Hassan wrestled with SJ, who squirmed and whined like a tiny tornado that refused to be contained. “I want Juju!” he wailed, his small face scrunched up, his fists pounding against the car seat straps. The sound hit me like nails scraping against metal—grating and relentless.

Hassan’s voice was strained, his usual composure cracking under the dual stress of our situation and playing reluctant caregiver. “Juju will be back soon,” he said, lying through his teeth. He held up a stuffed animal—a well-loved bear with oneeye missing—but SJ smacked it out of his hand with surprising force for someone so small. “Just—please—sit still for a minute.”

I caught a glimpse of Hassan’s exhausted face in the mirror. “Any luck?” I asked, my tone clipped, as I swerved to avoid a taxi that had stopped suddenly.

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