C137 Andrew’s pov: Blood.

The moment I stepped out of the airport, the first thing I saw was Dontrell—he leaned against the bulletproof SUV, arms crossed, unreadable. Clayton sat in the front, scanning the surroundings.

Immediately I got in, Clayton fired up the engine, jaw tight, steering through the busy street.

Five armored cars flanked us—two ahead, three behind, like an iron wall. But inside our bulletproof ride