Rise of the Street King

Chapter 12 – Firefight at the Laundromat

The door shook under the pounding, the metal frame warping with each slam. Dust drifted from the ceiling, the overhead fluorescent light flickering in nervous bursts.

Jayden’s knuckles were white around the briefcase handle. His heartbeat drowned out everything until Aria’s hand gripped his shoulder, firm, grounding.

“Stay low. Don’t freeze.”

Her shotgun pumped once, the sound brutal in the silence.

Kade slid into position beside the entrance, rifle aimed at the door. His jaw clenched, eyes hard. “Three, maybe four outside. Could be more in the street.”

Aria crouched opposite him, breathing steady. “Not Syndicate muscle they’re too disciplined. This is Razor’s crew.”

Jayden’s throat tightened. Razor. Even his name felt like rusted metal.

The door buckled. A final slam snapped the lock.

It swung open with a shriek of tortured hinges

and gunfire erupted.

Kade’s rifle spat controlled bursts, the muzzle flash strobing the dark. A man screamed, cut off by the wet thud of his body hitting the pavement.

Aria fired, the shotgun’s roar deafening. The first blast tore through the chest of a thug trying to rush in. He crumpled instantly, blood smearing the cracked linoleum.

Jayden dropped to the floor, dragging the briefcase close, eyes wide. He wanted to move, wanted to help but the sheer violence of it rooted him to the tiles.

More boots pounded outside. A voice bellowed, “Pin ’em down!”

Bullets chewed through the doorway, splintering the wall, shattering a row of dusty detergent bottles. White powder clouded the air, mixing with smoke and cordite.

“Back!” Kade barked, yanking Jayden by the collar as another volley ripped across where his head had been.

Aria moved like water, ducking and weaving, shotgun thundering with every pull. Her eyes were cold, calculating, every shot precise.

Jayden’s ears rang. His chest heaved. Somewhere behind him, Hassan groaned, weak but alive.

The briefcase seemed to pulse in his grip. The weight of it wasn’t just metal and secrets it was responsibility. Hassan’s mission. His promise. His survival.

Kade tossed a glance at him. “Kid, window!”

Jayden spun. The back of the laundromat was sealed by a single barred window, grime-streaked and rusted. His stomach sank.

“It’s blocked!”

“Then make it unblocked!” Kade snapped, firing another burst.

Jayden dropped the case beside Hassan, grabbed a busted chair, and slammed it against the bars. The wood cracked, splinters digging into his hands, but the iron barely shifted.

“They’re welded!” he shouted.

Aria cursed under her breath, reloading. “We hold, then. No way out but through.”

The thugs outside regrouped, their shadows stretching long across the broken doorway. Jayden caught the glint of machetes, the jagged edges gleaming in the flickering light. Razor’s crew wasn’t here to negotiate.

One lunged through the door, screaming. Aria sidestepped, drove the butt of her shotgun into his face, then fired point-blank into his chest. He hit the ground like a sack of stone.

Jayden’s stomach lurched. He had never seen death this close, this raw. But there was no time to process. Another man charged.

This one got past Aria.

Jayden froze as the thug’s blade swung toward him

and Kade shot the man clean through the temple.

The body collapsed inches from Jayden’s feet. His lungs locked up. He wanted to vomit, to scream but Kade’s voice cut through the fog.

“Eyes open, kid. You close your eyes here, you die.”

Jayden’s grip tightened on the broken chair leg. His breath trembled, but he forced himself to stand. Forced himself to look at the blood pooling across the floor.

Another barrage of gunfire ripped through the laundromat. A bullet grazed Aria’s arm, tearing her jacket. She hissed but didn’t falter.

“We’re getting boxed in!” she shouted.

Kade’s rifle clicked empty. He ducked behind a washer, reloading fast. “Then we cut a hole through the box!”

Aria’s eyes darted to Jayden. “Kid. That case what’s inside?”

Jayden shook his head frantically. “I—I don’t know! Hassan never told me!”

But Hassan stirred on the table, eyes half-opening, voice weak and rasping. “Coordinates… map… their vault…”

Aria’s eyes widened. “Their vault? Holy hell…”

Before Jayden could ask, a shadow loomed at the doorway. Bigger than the others.

A man stepped inside, ducking under the ruined frame. His presence sucked the air out of the room. Broad shoulders, scarred jaw, eyes like pits of coal.

Razor.

The air went ice-cold.

Jayden’s body locked up. Every story he’d heard about Razor felt too small, too shallow compared to the man in front of him.

Razor smiled, slow and cruel. His machete glinted under the flickering light.

“Well, well. The prodigal rat and his friends,” he drawled. His voice was gravel, soaked in venom. “You’ve been busy.”

Aria raised her shotgun. “You’re late.”

Razor’s laugh was low, ugly. “Ladies first, huh? I’ll carve you last, sweetheart. Save the best for dessert.”

Jayden’s blood boiled, but fear choked him silent.

Razor’s men crowded behind him, machetes and pistols ready. The laundromat suddenly felt smaller than a coffin.

Aria’s jaw tightened. Kade steadied his rifle. Hassan whispered Jayden’s name, fragile but insistent.

The moment stretched thick, unbearable

And then Razor lunged.

The machete came down in a blur of steel, aimed straight for Jayden’s skull.