BURN IT DOWN

“Freedom isn’t given. You take it. Even if it costs you your past.”

Elijah opened the door like he’d been waiting his whole life.

He didn’t ask questions when he saw my face—eyes swollen, hoodie soaked through, blade still tucked in my waistband. He just stepped aside and pulled me in, wrapped his arms around me, and held on like he was keeping the pieces together.

“I messed up,” I whispered against his chest. “I went back. Just once. But it was enough to make me feel like I never left.”

“You’re here now,” he said softly. “That’s what matters.”

We sat on his couch in silence, the lamp casting a soft gold glow across the room. On the wall behind him were photos—his niece at a school play, him and his sister smiling on a fishing trip, a handwritten quote framed in glass:

“You don’t heal in the same place you got sick.”

I stared at it for a long time.

“Marcus sent someone,” I finally said. “Or maybe he just wanted to see if I’d break. He’s watching me again.”

Elijah tensed. “Do you want to go to the cops?”

“They don’t care about girls like me,” I said flatly. “Not until we’re a headline.”

He didn’t argue. Just reached for my hand.

“What do you want to do, Nell?”

I exhaled. “Burn the whole damn thing down.”

The plan wasn’t clean. It wasn’t smart. But it was mine.

Marcus still ran girls out of a fake cleaning company on the South Side. Still wore his gold chain like a crown, posted up outside that same liquor store like nothing changed.

But I had receipts now.

Old messages. Payout screenshots. A burner phone with recordings I’d been too scared to use.

I sent everything to Dee first, with instructions: If something happens to me, take this to the news. To the police. To the damn mayor if you have to.

Then I texted Marcus.

Meet me. One-on-one. No tricks.

Same spot we used to post up. Tonight. Midnight.

His reply came fast.

Thought you’d never call.

The parking lot behind the liquor store was empty except for his car—same black Monte Carlo. Same leather seats. Same snake behind the wheel.

I walked up slow, blade hidden, Elijah parked around the corner with eyes on everything. Just in case.

Marcus stepped out, grinning.

“You look good, baby girl. I see you doing nails now. Cute. Real cute.”

“Don’t ‘baby girl’ me,” I said.

He chuckled, hands in his pockets. “You called me. So what’s this about?”

“I’m done,” I said. “For real this time. You don’t follow me. You don’t call me. You don’t send your little clients to test me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Or what?”

I pulled out the burner phone. “Or I leak everything. The girls. The payments. The stash houses. Your real name and your real dirt. I’ll make you famous.”

His smile faded.

“You always had a mouth on you.”

“And now I got a platform,” I said. “You so much as breathe in my direction again, Marcus, I burn every bridge you ever built. Try me.”

We stared at each other for a long moment.

Then he nodded once.

“Alright. You win,” he said. “This time.”

I didn’t look back.

I walked away, heart pounding, legs trembling. Elijah was already waiting in the car.

“You good?” he asked.

“No,” I said honestly. “But I’m finally free.”

That night, I tossed the blade in the river. Watched it sink.

The next morning, I walked into Dee’s salon and signed a lease on a second chair. Hired another girl. A quiet one with sharp eyes and soft hands.