As soon as he bolted the last lock… he knew.
The man in black was in his home.
Ty played the part. He couldn’t let on that he was aware of his presence yet. Instead of reacting without thought, Ty yawned loudly, pulled off his bomber jacket and hung it in the closet in his tiny hallway. He didn’t turn on any lights. He knew his place, the intruder didn’t. He went inside the kitchen just off the entranceway and took a pack of popcorn out of the drawer and unwrapped it. He opened the microwave door—the brief second of lighting confirming Ty’s suspicion that he had uninvited company—tossed it inside and turned it on high. He had about forty-five seconds. Hopefully, the man would fall into his trap and try to corner him in his little kitchen.
He saw exactly where he was hiding. Or not hiding. The man sat in the chair closest to the window, half his hard face illuminated by the small amount of light filtering in from outside. Ty didn’t look or acknowledge he knew he was—
“I know you know I’m here. You’re too smart not to,” The man said roughly.
Ty turned to leave the kitchen, his right hand already easing behind his back when he caught another feeling. The man in black wasn’t alone. Ty didn’t hear footsteps, or commotion from elsewhere, it was just a gut feeling. The kind he didn’t ignore.
“Easy, Jenkins,” the man said, as if he knew him. “I also know you won’t pull that weapon unless you are intending to use it.”
Oh, I intend to use it.
Ty moved back into the kitchen and looked through the opening over the breakfast bar. The dark man sat alone with his hands steepled together in front of his mouth as if he was deep in thought.
He kept track of the seconds as they ticked away on the microwave. He only had a few of them left for his plan to work, regardless of the fact that he hadn’t counted on taking on multiple men. Ty was realizing his critical error now. The man who had invaded his home without permission hadn’t come solo as Ty assumed he would.
“Don’t ever assume, son. You’ll only make an ass of yourself.”
Now it was him against… he didn’t know how many. He was good but he wasn’t over-cocky to think he was invincible, he couldn’t take on a gang when he hadn’t made allies in his hood. He’d chosen not to trust anyone or make acquaintances in a place riddled with disloyal men.
“You have ten seconds to tell me who you are and why you’re following me,” Ty said calmly, still watching the other two doors in his apartment. The man’s partner was either in his bedroom or in the bathroom.
“I’ll need at least sixty seconds,” the man countered.
“Non-negotiable. Five seconds now.”
The next three seconds went so damn fast Ty wasn’t sure how he kept up. As soon as he uttered the last word of his response the man in black’s partner was out of the bathroom with a bright yellow and black handgun pointed at his head. He came at Ty as if protecting the man in black was personal. He was in the tight confines of the kitchen faster than Ty could blink. Never one to hesitate, he pulled his blade from behind his back and simultaneously leaped through the small opening of the breakfast bar. To his surprise, there was another man, about the same height as him posted in the corner, with another one of those weird-looking guns aimed at his chest. Fuck! Ty didn’t pause. A second later, the explosion from the microwave sounded and the stainless-steel steak knife he’d placed in there, alongside the popcorn, burst out and lodged itself in the cabinet just beside the other man’s head.
“Motherfucker,” he growled, staring at the blade only inches from his left cheek.
“Ford,” the second man in the corner gritted out.
Everyone stopped to see exactly what predicament they were all in now. It didn’t appear good for any of them. Ty still had two guns pointed at his head, but he had his sharp blade securely pressed against the dark man’s throat as he crouched behind the chair he sat in. Ty had an unforgiving grip on the back of the man’s neck. If he moved or tried to buck, Ty’s blade slicing across his jugular would be the consequence for his stupid action. No one spoke, no one moved. The man in the kitchen looked ready to spit venom.
“Get that goddamn blade away from my brother’s throat.” He bristled so hard his hands clenching tightly on his ’deathmaker.
Brother? So, it’s very personal. That would work to his advantage. “Last chance.”
“Didn’t I tell you he would react,” the man in black spoke, making Ty’s blade sink a bit deeper into his large Adam’s apple. “I’m here, Tyrell, because your father sent me. I’ve never disobeyed one of his orders and I never will. My name… my name is King. Brian King. You may remember—”