Page 23 of Masked Mayhem

“Does that mean we should gather the others?” Crow interrupts, scratching his head.

“Gathering the crew means we stack the odds in our favor. We don’t know what we’re facing outside, but it isn’t just a friendly face looking for a dance,” Havoc replies. The calm before the storm settles ominously in the air, and my instincts scream at me for a plan.

“Let’s move,” I say, regarding the urgency of the situation. “We need to get everyone up and ready to defend the club. If we’re dealing with outsiders looking to cause chaos, we can’t leave anything to chance.”

“Wait!” Whitney interjects, her sharp eyes darting to Havoc, “If they’re coming for you guys, wouldn’t it be smarter to prepare an ambush? We can defend the club from the back entrance. It keeps you out of the line of fire and protects your strongest assets.”

Havoc raises his eyebrows at her suggestion, impressed yet skeptical. “And what makes you think we can trust you to lead us, little mischief?”

“I’m nobody’s damsel in distress,” Whitney shoots back with a fiery glint in her eyes. “I’m in your head, Havoc, whether you like it or not. Keeping the others from getting inside is the best bet for everyone. Plus,” she smirks, “don’t think I haven’t been practicing some new moves. You just might find I’m not only good for the stage.”

“Very clever,” Havoc admits, a hint of approval in his tone.

Before I can contest Whitney’s boldness, Carter surprises us all. "Alright then, I’ll gather the crew and alert everyone else to keep on guard.”

"No, Crow will do that. You stay with the girls and keep them safe,” Havoc tells him while pulling out his weapon and checking the load.

“Alright then,” he grumbles with an eye-roll. “I just don’t want to be the one left to explain if all hell breaks loose.”

There’s something cold about the way Havoc brushes off Carter’s concern, and I know that if I don’t act fast, I’ll lose my edge. Drawing closer to Whitney, I position myself behind her, using my body as a buffer against Havoc’s predatory gaze.

“Let’s move,” I reiterate sharply, as the rest of Masked Mayhem come storming down the corridor, the mounting tension drumming beneath my skin.

Time to split this group apart and gather the ones vulnerable to the brewing storm while keeping the combat-ready in the forefront. Suddenly, a loud bang echoes from the front entrance, shaking the dimly lit corridor.

“That’s the signal,” I spit out, my heartbeat echoing in my ears as adrenaline surges through me. “We need to treat this like a counter-assault; they’ll be looking for a weak point.”

“Let’s head for the back. You need to bulk up defenses on all entry points,” Whitney declares, her certainty igniting the flickering flames of resolve in our fight for survival.

“No! You’re not fucking going out there!” Havoc snaps, his possessiveness rearing its ugly head again.

“Dude, she’s the only one around here who hasn’t got a head full of nonsense. If we’re playing chess, I say we let her take the queen first. Besides,” I add slowly, meeting his gaze sternly. “She’s the hidden wildcard. She’ll maneuver better than anyone else.”

Havoc’s jaw tightens, but he nods reluctantly, the tension palpable. “Fine. But if I get word that you’re in danger, you better run, Little Mischief. This isn’t a fucking playroom. It’s life or death.”

“Got it,” she replies coolly, a knowing glint in her eyes, ninja-stealth mode activated.

The loud boom reverberates through the walls again, and my heart races as chaos seems to close in around me. With newfound urgency, we chat quickly, assigning tasks, creating a defensive strategy, and entrusting the one thing I’ve begun to quench my unquenchable thirst for: Whitney.

“Let’s roll!” I yell, adrenaline surging through me, channeling that with every ounce of my being as we divide into groups, heading toward the chaos.

But as soon as I take a step out of this corridor, I know the night is bound to change forever. The memory of Whitney still lingers on my skin, and I can feel her spirit woven through each decision we make moving forward. I just hope tonight, she doesn’t end up becoming a target in their game—the same game that had pulled us into this deadly mix of cops and robbers, darkness and danger.

Tonight, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.

eight

Blurred Lines

Raze (“Havoc”)

Sweetest Girl: Akon, Wyclef

Thenightstretchedoninterminably, a creeping sense of dread enveloping me as I grasped the reality that my entire world was under fucking attack. Bullets rained down, but thankfully none penetrated the club's bulletproof glass. Outside, chaos reigned. My attention, however, remained fixed on Whitney; despite the escalating attack, I couldn't help but prioritize her safety. Along with the other dancers, Whitney retaliated fiercely, a fucking queen defending her kingdom, yet it was her family—us— that mattered most to her when it came down to retaliation.

We were fucking blindsided by this gun battle, especially considering we had never gone into anyone’s territory and we didn't have beef with anyone, at least nothing major enough for them to come at us the way they did. Confusion hung thick in the air, leaving us questioning not only who had targeted us but also why. Fortunately, the attackers failed with their violent intentions. A few members of Masked Mayhem who defended the outside were injured, but miraculously not fatally.

Tonight was meant to be devoted to plotting our next big heist, not for fighting for our lives amidst an unexpected gang war—that's what it felt like it was. Lux and Donovan offered no answers, a reality that only deepened our anxiety, knowing the leaders of MM were as lost and confused as we were.

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