Chapter 5 Fire in the Dark

The night air hit Zuri like a slap, cold, sharp, and thick with the stink of gasoline and cigarette smoke. She pulled her jacket tighter and kept her head down, heels clicking too fast on the cracked pavement.

The bar door swung shut behind her, cutting off the roar of music and voices. For a second, she felt relief. Quiet. Space.

Then the relief curdled into unease.

The street was too empty. The shadows too deep. The engines she’d heard earlier were gone now, leaving only silence and the faint hum of a streetlight buzzing overhead.

Her pulse quickened. She walked faster.

Her old sedan sat parked under the flickering light at the end of the row, just where she’d left it. The dull brown paint looked even sadder under the sickly glow. But right now, it was her ticket out. Her lifeline.

She fished her keys from her bag, forcing her breathing steady. Just get in. Start the car. Drive away. Leave this nightmare behind.

“Running already?”

The voice came from the shadows to her left. Low. Rough.

Zuri spun, keys clenched between her fingers like claws.

Amani stepped out from the alley, cigarette ember glowing in the dark. His broad shoulders filled the space, leather cut catching the light.

Her heart lurched, half in relief, half in irritation.

“Were you following me?” she demanded.

He didn’t flinch. Just took a slow drag, exhaled smoke, and tossed the butt aside. “Making sure you don’t end up dead in a ditch. That guy from earlier? He’s got friends.”

“I can handle myself.”

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze flicking to the bruises already darkening her arm. “I saw.”

Her jaw tightened. She turned her back on him and strode toward the car. The keys jingled in her trembling hand.

Almost there. Almost.

The world exploded.

A roar of fire and metal split the night as her car lit up in a ball of orange flame. The blast punched the air from her lungs, heat slamming into her like a wave. Shards of glass sprayed the asphalt, raining down in deadly sparks.

Zuri screamed, stumbling back, throwing her arms up against the searing heat.

Strong hands caught her before she hit the ground. Amani’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, shielding her body with his. His chest was a wall of muscle, his leather cut hot against her cheek.

The fire raged, devouring what was left of her escape. The sedan’s horn blared once, long and broken, before dying with a hiss.

Zuri’s heart thundered. Her ears rang. Her car, her only way out, was gone.

Someone had done this. Someone had found her.

“Fuck,” Amani growled, holding her tight as debris clattered around them. “You alright?”

She nodded stiffly, though her whole body shook. She could still feel the blast vibrating in her bones.

He pulled back just enough to scan her face. His eyes were sharp, fierce, but beneath that she saw something else, concern. Real, raw concern.

Then his gaze cut to the burning wreck. His jaw clenched. “That wasn’t random.”

Zuri’s stomach twisted.

He turned back to her. “Who’s after you?”

Her breath caught. Panic flared in her chest. She couldn’t tell him. Couldn’t drag him into the nightmare she’d run from.

“No one,” she said quickly, too quickly. “It was just, just bad luck. Cars catch fire all the time.”

Amani stared at her like she’d grown another head. “Bad luck doesn’t wire a bomb under your seat.”

Her throat went dry.

He took a step closer, towering over her, smoke and fire painting his features in harsh light. “Tell me the truth.”

Zuri’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Her mind raced—memories of blood, of screams, of the family name she’d buried. If she said it out loud, it would all come crashing back.

“I… I don’t know,” she whispered finally.

It wasn’t the truth. Not really. But it was all she could give.

Amani studied her, his eyes narrowing, reading every flicker of her face. She forced herself not to look away.

Finally, he let out a sharp breath. “Fine. Don’t talk.” He jerked his chin toward the bar. “But you’re not walking away from here alone. Not after this.”

“I don’t need.”

“Not asking.” His voice was steel, final and unyielding. “You’re coming back inside.”

Before she could argue, he caught her wrist, not rough, but with the same kind of grip that told her resistance was useless. He tugged her toward the bar, the fire still blazing behind them, sirens already wailing in the distance.

Zuri stumbled along, her chest tight, her mind screaming.

The message was clear.

They’d found her.

And she couldn’t run anymore.

The bar fell silent when they re-entered. Smoke and the wail of sirens drifted in from outside, carried on the night air.

Amani pushed her through the door, his hand firm at her back, eyes daring anyone to ask questions.

Whispers rose immediately.

“What happened?”

“Fire?”

“Was it her car?”

Zuri felt every gaze like a spotlight. Her skin crawled.

Amani barked, “Shut it.” The room obeyed.

He steered her to the back table, the one with the best view of every exit. He sat her down, slid his whiskey glass her way, and stood over her like a guard dog.

Her hands trembled around the glass. She didn’t drink, just stared into the amber liquid, her reflection broken by ripples.

She could feel his gaze on her, heavy and relentless.

Finally, he said, “You’re gonna tell me who the fuck you pissed off.”

Zuri’s throat tightened. The fire outside crackled in her memory. The smell of smoke clung to her hair, her clothes, her skin.

She thought of her father’s men. Their promises. Their threats.

Her fingers clenched around the glass.

But she still couldn’t force the words out.

Not yet.

Amani’s hand slammed down on the table, making her jump. His dark eyes burned into hers.

“You don’t talk,” he said, voice low and dangerous, “then I’ll find out myself. And when I do, you’d better pray I like what I hear.”

Zuri’s breath hitched, her chest tight with fear and something sharper, hotter.

Because she believed him.

And she knew the truth wouldn’t just ruin her.

It would ruin them all.