#Chapter 143: The Rescue Team

A rabid fear that did not belong to Kadeem had him by the throat.

Goosebumps rose on his skin, chilled by beads of anxious perspiration against the autumn air, and his heart hammered fast in his chest.

What swept over him next, however, was entirely his to own: a sense of dread so heavy, he easily might have succumbed to it and deemed whatever horror the night held as Fate.

But surrendering was not Kadeem's MO and he sprang into action-mode. His hands were still gripping Rayburn's wrists like a pair of living handcuffs, and while Riley, inconveniently tipsy, struggled to understand, Kadeem was already shoving Rayburn ahead.

Startled, appreciably drunk himself, and immediately indignant, Rayburn cried out, "Hey, watch it," and made a very futile attempt to drag his feet.

Kadeem shut him the hell up with a sharp snarl of promised violence and kept them moving with brutal physical force just barely in check.

Most often, Kadeem's aggression was posturing - controlled and contained - neces