Rise of the Street King

Chapter 32: Tariq’s Loyalty

The bounty spread like fire in a dry field. By noon, every hustler, knife boy, and half-starved gang rat in the slums had heard Razor’s promise:

“Bring me Jayden alive and bleeding, and you’ll never starve again.”

It wasn’t just money it was food, protection, status. To men who had nothing, it was a dream. And dreams turned killers.

Jayden sat at the edge of the safehouse cot, wrapping the bandage around his ribs tighter, forcing the pain to sharpen his focus. The dull hum of the city outside carried a new tone: whispers, footsteps, shadows shifting. Even the stray dogs sounded restless.

“They’ll come for us in waves,” Malikah said, pacing with her good arm resting against her chest. “First the desperate, then the hungry, and finally the professionals.”

“Good,” Jayden muttered. “Let them waste each other trying.”

“You say that like we aren’t a target painted in neon.”

Jayden looked at her, then at Tariq who sat sharpening a blade, face grim. “You knew this would happen,” Jayden said.

Tariq looked up. “Yeah. I knew Razor wouldn’t just come at you with steel. He’s smarter than that. He’ll let the city do his dirty work.”

Jayden nodded slowly. “So then tell me… how do we outlive a city?”

Tariq’s lips curled into a thin smile. “We don’t hide. We bleed them before they bleed us.”

Malikah groaned. “This isn’t war. It’s survival. If we fight every rat that comes, we’ll burn out before the real wolves arrive.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Jayden snapped.

She didn’t answer. The silence was enough.

That night, Jayden sat alone in the back of the safehouse, a knife on his knee. The weight of betrayal, of loss, of the bounty all of it pressed down. The faces of the dead crew haunted him.

A voice broke through the dark. “You think too loud.”

Tariq leaned against the wall, eyes glinting in the dim light.

Jayden smirked faintly. “You ever shut up?”

“Nope.” Tariq pushed off the wall and sat beside him. “You’re thinking about them, aren’t you? Malik, Romi, the others who didn’t make it.”

Jayden’s jaw clenched. “I should’ve saved them.”

“You can’t save everyone, Jay.” Tariq’s voice softened, rare and raw. “You saved me. Twice now. That counts for something.”

Jayden said nothing. Tariq let the silence breathe, then added, “Doesn’t matter how many come for you. I’ll stand in the way. Every damn time.”

Jayden finally looked at him. “You’d die for me?”

Tariq’s grin was crooked but steady. “Already have, haven’t I? Just didn’t finish the job.”

For the first time since waking up, Jayden laughed. Low, tired, but real.

The test came sooner than either expected.

Three hours before dawn, the sound of shattering glass ripped through the safehouse. Jayden was on his feet instantly, knife drawn. Malikah cursed from her cot, grabbing her pistol with her good hand.

Figures poured through the window six, maybe seven faces masked, weapons crude but deadly. The smell of desperation came before the steel.

“Jayden!” one of them shouted, voice hoarse with greed. “Bounty says alive, but dead’s easier!”

Jayden moved like instinct, driving his knife into the first man’s throat before the words finished. Blood sprayed, warm against his face.

But the others rushed, wild and hungry.

Tariq exploded into motion, tackling two at once, blade flashing. He slammed one head against the wall, teeth cracking against concrete. The other stabbed at him wildly, slicing into his arm, but Tariq didn’t flinch. He bit down on a scream and buried his knife in the man’s stomach.

Malikah fired once, the shot deafening in the small room. A mask crumpled to the ground.

But still more pressed in.

Jayden fought, knife dripping, ribs screaming with each twist. One attacker locked his arm around Jayden’s throat from behind, choking. Jayden clawed, vision dimming

Then Tariq ripped the man off him, taking the blade meant for Jayden across his own back. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause. He tore the man’s jaw open with his bare hands until bone cracked.

Jayden staggered, gasping for breath. His eyes burned not with fear, but with the weight of what Tariq had just done.

The room went still. Blood pooled across the concrete. The last attacker, seeing his friends broken, bolted through the window into the night.

When silence returned, Jayden leaned against the wall, chest heaving. Malikah reloaded, hands trembling. Tariq sat on the floor, blood dripping from his arm and back, breath ragged but eyes sharp.

“You okay?” Jayden asked.

Tariq grinned through blood. “Better than them.”

Jayden crouched beside him, pressing cloth to the wound. “You didn’t have to take that cut.”

“Didn’t think about it,” Tariq said. His grin faded, replaced with something harder. “You die, Jay… everything we bled for dies with you. I don’t care if it kills me no one’s touching you while I’m breathing.”

Jayden’s hand stilled on the cloth. The words dug deeper than the knife wounds.

Malikah looked at them both, eyes unreadable. “This loyalty thing… it’s gonna get one of you killed.”

Jayden finally spoke, voice low but unshakable. “No. It’s what’s going to keep us alive.”

They burned the bodies before dawn, smoke curling above the rooftops. It was a message to the streets:

Come for me, and this is your fate.

But inside, Jayden knew the truth the tide was rising faster than he could stop.

As the flames licked the night sky, Tariq stood beside him, bleeding but unbowed.

“Let Razor pay the city to hunt you,” Tariq muttered. “We’ll show them what it costs to collect.”

Jayden looked at him, and for the first time, allowed himself to believe it.

Tariq wasn’t just muscle. Tariq was anchor, shield, brother. The last unbroken chain holding him to the fight.

And Razor would have to tear through that chain link by link....

Tariq’s wounds are deep, and Jayden realizes his brother-in-arms won’t survive many more nights like this. Razor’s bounty has turned the city into open season, but the real fear creeping into Jayden’s chest is this: what happens if Tariq finally falls?