Chapter 5 - The Line in the Cement
The seventy-pound pit bull moved with the explosive velocity of an uncoiled spring.
Cerberus didn't bark as he crossed the distance. He didn't look like an animal; he looked like a ballistic missile wrapped in scarred hide. The two guards in leather jackets reached for their waistbands, but before their fingers could clear the leather, Cerberus hit Caleb Whitmore squarely in the chest.
The impact sounded like a car wreck. Caleb flew backward off his feet, slamming hard against the concrete floor, his expensive designer spectacles shattering against the stone.
Cerberus pinned him instantly. The dog’s massive, muscular forepaws were planted on Caleb’s shoulders, his jaws wide, his dripping fangs less than two inches from the man’s throat. A terrifying, wet snarl tore from the dog’s mouth, the spiked leather collar clicking against Caleb’s silver tie clip.
“Get him off me! Get him off me!” Caleb screamed, his voice rising into a high, undignified shriek of survival terror. He didn't dare move a muscle, his eyes locked onto the amber fire in the dog’s gaze. “Crowe, please! I’ll sign over the development rights! I’ll give you the West Loop berths! Just call him off!”
The two guards pulled their weapons, their barrels tracking the dog, but before they could steady their aim, Sebastian’s voice rang through the warehouse like a gunshot.
“If those weapons clear your jackets, your families will be looking for your remains in the Calumet River by midnight,” Sebastian said, his hands still in his pockets.
The guards froze. They looked at Sebastian, then at the two snipers who had quietly appeared on the overhead catwalks, their red laser sights dotting the guards' foreheads. Slowly, carefully, the men raised their hands and stepped away from Caleb.
Nina stood perfectly still, watching the scene play out. She should have been horrified. She should have run back into the Escalade and locked the doors. But as she looked at Caleb—the man who had bruised her wrist, the man who had threatened her dying mother just to protect his own inflated ego—she felt a cold, hard sense of justice settle into her veins.
“Miss Harper,” Sebastian said quietly, looking at her over his shoulder. “He threatened your family. In my world, the debt is paid in blood or in land. What do you think he owes you?”
Caleb looked at Nina from beneath the dog’s dripping jaws, his face pale, tears of terror mixing with the sweat on his forehead. “Nina... please. I’m sorry. Tell him to stop. I’ll pay for your mother. I’ll pay for everything. Just don't let him kill me.”
Nina walked forward, her boots clicking softly against the concrete until she stood right beside Cerberus. The dog didn't look at her; his eyes remained anchored to Caleb’s throat, but his short tail gave a quick, involuntary thump against the floorboards at her approach.
She looked down at Caleb. “You think your money makes you a god, Mr. Whitmore. You think because I wear an apron, I don't have the right to say no to you. You stay away from my mother. You stay away from the clinic. If I ever see your car on Harrison Street again, I won't ask Mr. Crowe to save me. I’ll just let Cerberus finish his dinner.”
She looked at Sebastian. “Tell him to come back.”
Sebastian studied her for a long, silent moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he let out a short, quiet breath. “Cerberus. Side.”
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The dog instantly snapped his jaws shut, stepped off Caleb’s chest, and trotted back to Nina’s side, his head low, his demeanor turning perfectly calm as he leaned his heavy ribs against her leg.
“The deal is dead, Caleb,” Sebastian said coldly, turning his back on the screaming man. “You have twenty-four hours to liquidate your North Side holdings and leave Chicago. If you’re still inside city limits by Monday morning, Cerberus won't be on a leash.”
