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running…
    Still, if what I’d heard was true, the risk was worth it.
    Electricity jumped through my nerves again at the thought of pinning down something on Xero and I turned into another narrow street, keeping careful look out for a place that matched the description I’d heard. One of the kids over in East Cleveland had heard that a dealer was running something out of an abandoned building up here - someone with links to one of Xero’s boys.
    It was a loose connection, but better than anything I’d heard for months - too good to let some mafioso politics get in my way.
    There were a collection of run down buildings up ahead that I figured must be the place. From the looks of it they’d been gutted and someone had knocked out a wall to string them together inside.
    I wasn’t expecting to find much - unless I had the fortune to run into the actual guy tonight - but I could scout the place out, look for anything that might show my source was right.
    I slipped into the building and waited a moment as my eyes adjusted to the dim interior. Pausing to take in the worn down old building, noting the holes and debris in the walls that let me see through to rooms in the buildings to either side, I heard a shoe scuffing the floor up ahead.
    My breath caught in my throat as my body switched to high-alert. If that was the guy I was looking for…
    I moved quietly closer as two gruff voices gave them away, wishing as I did that I could make out what they were saying.
    “Hey! I know you!” The loud voice from behind had me spinning quickly, backing up a step to keep both the men who’d startled me and the opening to those I’d been listening to in my line of sight.
    Fuck.
    “What the fuck are you doing here?” The rough guy challenging me seemed vaguely familiar - and then it snapped into place. One of Jorge’s guys from the negotiation.
    Double fuck.
    My reaction was ingrained - posture shifting automatically and an arrogant smile curving my mouth - even as I couldn’t help wonder what they were doing here.
    What linked the 55th Streeters to my source’s intel? Did the kid set me up, or were they linked with Xero’s guy somehow?
    Military training kicked in even as my mind spun on that. I braced subconsciously for a fight, but this wasn’t the army. On the streets it was better to be casual - acting like you had the upper hand usually convinced people that you actually did.
    “Just passing through.”
    Their looks turned hostile, the glances around the closed off room enough to put the lie to my words - and as we faced off, the other couple came out from the wreckage of the doorway I’d been looking through. My pulse ratcheted up at being cornered, but some part of me relished the idea that this would turn violent.
    I might be outnumbered, but they were street thugs. I could take them.
    “Valentini thinks he can insult us like this, does he?” My accuser sneered.
    “Not Valentini. Me.” I gave them a disdainful glance as I said it, but hoped the message would get through - this wasn’t Valentini. I was here on personal business.
    “Well boys, maybe we should show this son of a bitch how the 55th Streeters answer an insult.” The dark-skinned guy from the doorway grinned crookedly.
    My eyes sparked at the challenge, but I waited for them to make the first move - there was a difference between trespass and self-defense, and trespass and attack.
    Jorge’s thug glanced sidelong at his companion as he weighed the decision - they were confident in their numbers, but I could tell I unsettled him.
    Good.
    One of the two in the doorway lunged for me, and I feinted to the side, slamming my fist into the space I’d just been and narrowly missing his skull as I danced backwards. With that one explosion of action, they were all on me.
    Adrenaline pulsed in my veins as I skirted around, trying to avoid them cornering me into the edge of the room and giving myself a little more space to maneuver. They started trying to