“Maybe I should open you up,” Anthony Jack mused, his gaze flickering over Ash with an intensity that wasn't just scrutiny- it was dissection.

  As if peeling back skin and sinew would reveal the street buried beneath Ash's infuriating arrogance. He leaned closer, just enough for Ash to see the glint of something unhinged in his eyes.

  “Maybe I should see what's really inside of you that makes you so damn cocky.”

  Ash tugged at his wrists. He wasn't liking where this was going.

  No luck. The ropes aren't budging. Damn it.

  “What game is this supposed to be now? What are you playing at?” Ash's voice cracked slightly, coming a lot more strained than he had intended it to be.

  Anthony Jack didn't answer. He didn't have to.

  His eyes were saying enough.

  What does he mean?

  Ash always knew what eyes said. Like his dad's. They always got mad whenever he didn't know how to cope with things.

  Or- or Jason's. Jason's eyes always kept darting towards others. Like he was always looking for someone or something.

  Even the eyes of the security guard at his university said so much. That he was tired and it was hot, and he wanted nothing else in this world but to go home and rest. Like he had had enough.

  But Anthony Jack's were different.

  They didn't really say anything. They were still- like the surface of a frozen lake. And Ash wished he hadn't noticed.

  That Anthony Jack's eyes held things.

  Not hunger, not obsession, but something much worse.

  Curiosity.

  And it was the kind that didn't end well with things studied.

  It was terrifying, really, how much a pair of eyes can say when a mouth refuses to speak.

  —----------------------------------------------------------------------

  “Dad, where are you?!” Ash's voice cut through the ring, raw and frantic as he sprinted down the pavement. His heartbeat pounded louder in his ears than his words.

  Around him, the pedestrians turned to stare at the wide-eyed boy, nearly colliding with the lamp posts, his free hand clawing at the air as if he could physically drag his father back.

  “Uh…Ash? Are you okay?” Luke's voice came, calm and oblivious, the way it always was whenever he thought that Ash was overreacting.

  “Dad, where are you?! Is- Is Noah- Are you both okay?!” Ash's throat burned. He could barely hear his own words now.

  A pause.

  A damn pause.

  Then his dad's sigh, “I don't know why you're acting like this, but we're fine. Noah's with me, and it's not really safe to call while driving, so yeah, I'll call you later-”

  “No!” Ash skidded to a stop, his sneakers scraping against concrete, “Dad, hurry! Take the first U-Turn you can get your eyes on and come back!” his voice cracked. A woman holding a coffee cup side-stepped him, staring.

  “Ash, I can't hear you right now. We'll be home soon, okay? If there's something you need, just message me-” Static frizzed up through the line, the call was breaking up.

  “Dad, please listen to me! You gotta come back-” Ash's hold on the phone was so tight that plastic groaned.

  “What's gotten into you?” His dad's chuckle was infuriating. “We're literally five minutes away from the market, why should I turn back?”

  “Because-”

  Because Anthony Jack has ordered his men to kill you.

  Because he wants to make me suffer.

  By hurting you and Noah.

  But he couldn't say all these things to his own dad.

  He wouldn't believe him.

  He's met Jack before. But he doesn't know how much of a lunatic he is.

  “Because it doesn't matter right now! You gotta listen to me!”

  “Ash, seriously, you're being dramatic. Look, just calm d-”

  The line crackled violently.

  Ash's breath caught.

  “Dad…?”

  No answer.

  Then, distant, warped through the remnants of the call, a sound.

  CRASH.

  Metal crumpling.

  Glass exploding.

  A scream.

  A horrible, hollow sound that punched straight into Ash’s chest.

  Noah. It was Noah who screamed.

  Ash's knees nearly buckled. His lungs wouldn't work. He pressed the phone harder to his ear, desperate.

  More screams. Muffled shouting.

  A horn blaring endlessly.

  And then-

  The line went dead.

  Ash stared at the phone screen, blank and silent in his trembling hand.

  No.

  No no no no no-

  The pavement tilted under him.

  His heart was a furious hammer against his ribs, his body frozen in terror while his mind raced.

  As scrambled for the phone, his trembling fingers shook too hard to press redial.

  The world kept moving.

  Cars honked.

  A dog barked.

  Someone laughed.

  And Ash wanted to scream at them all.

  Because somewhere- somewhere- his little brother’s voice had just been swallowed by silence.

  And Ash hadn't been fast enough to stop it.

  —---------------------------------------------------------

  “Yeah, well, I'm not talking to you any longer, got that?!” Lucas snarled, shoving himself up from the dirty curb. Dust clung to his jeans, and he swiped it away with shape, jerky movements.

  Jason let out a bitter laugh, already turning away, “Oh wow, what a coincidence. I'm not talking to you either.” His voice was low, controlled but the anger simmered just beneath the surface.

  “You’re seriously selfish, you know that? You take and take and act like the world owes you everything. Maybe if you spend half the time actually trying to learn manners instead of using others, you'd have real friends.”

  Lucas’ face twisted. “Oh, that's rich. Coming from you.” He took a step forward, his voice cracking, “Like you've ever given a damn about anyone but yourself.”

  Jason's hand clenched. “At least I don't pretend to be someone I'm not. Acting all that goody two-shoes as if I'm clean. Don't forget you did some pretty nasty stuff back then, you prick.”

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  Lucas' fingers twitched. He wanted to step forward, grab Jason's collar and punch him straight in the face. Or maybe- shaking him until his teeth rattled and he finally understood. But he did nothing of those.

  Instead, he looked him dead in the eye. “Now you think you understand me? You think now you are a nice person and I'm not?!”

  Jason snorted, hand flying to point at Lucas, “That's right. You're not. Because you're a…You're a-”

  Lucas took a step forward. “What? I'm what? Say it, you coward!”

  Jason's eyes twitched. His shoulders hunched inwards and he let out a sigh. He retreated his hand back, it dangled uselessly at his side. “Whatever. It's over.”

  The word hung there, heavy.

  Final.

  Jason turned away. Didn't look back. He took the first step away, then another and another, his back rigid.

  Some stupid, hopeful part in Jason screamed at him to turn back- shout at him to at least say I'm sorry or I didn't mean to or Wait-

  Silence.

  Lucas didn't say anything. He turned away too, walking stiffly in the other direction. His shadow stretched long and thin as he passed under one, then the other.

  Five steps.

  Ten steps.

  Jason's fists kept clenched. His pulse pounded in his ears, still furious. He kicked a stray pebble, watching it skidded across the cracked sideway.

  Twenty steps now.

  The distance between them kept yawning away.

  A breeze kicked away, carrying the smell of fried food from some distant takeout place. A car honked two places over.

  Normal sounds.

  Jason slowed. His breath came in a ragged puff. He flexed his fingers, rolled his shoulders.

  The fight was over.

  They were done.

  He glanced back.

  Lucas was further away than he expected. Just a dull outline of a figure who kept moving.

  Jason opened his mouth- maybe to shout, maybe to yell, maybe to curse at him.

  But before he could do any of that-

  Screech.

  Tires screamed against the asphalt.

  Jason's head snapped towards the sound. A black van drove past him. Seriously? What’s the rush? The van stopped midway, Jason stared at it. This is the kind of van people use for nasty stuff, right?

  What’s this doing here?

  Jason turned to look at Lucas. Stubborn loser, still walking like he’s got better places to be than here. Lucas didn't seem to notice the van. Not really. His mind would be replying dumb conversations.

  For half a second, the black van did nothing. Jason kept staring at it.

  But then-

  The door flew open.

  Men in dark clothing moved like shadows, swarming Lucas before he could react. A gloved hand clamped over his mouth, muffling his shout. His eyes went wide- first with shock and then with panic. His elbow did nothing but hit the air as the men dragged him towards the van.

  Huh?

  …They’re taking Lucas?

  Jason’s body moved before he completely registered the fact.

  They’re taking Lucas!

  “Hey-!” His voice tore out raw, half-disbelieving, “Hands off him! Let him GO!”

  Jason was running now, his sneakers slamming against the dirty curb. Lucas thrashed, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, asthma, crap, he can’t breathe-

  One of the men thrashed Lucas’s arm behind his back, twisting it. Lucas’ eyes went wide, barely able to get oxygen in his system.

  Lucas’ eyes were bloodshot now, and not from crying - lack of oxygen, panic, fear. His heels scraped the ground uselessly. His mouth moved behind the glove.

  Jason didn’t care if he was still mad. He didn’t care about being right anymore.

  He cared that Lucas was being taken.

  One of the masked men shoved Lucas hard, slamming the van door open. His back hit the seat edge with a sickening thud, and he folded in, coughing and gagging.

  Jason skidded to a stop just as they were hauling him up. “Let him go, you psychos!” he yelled, grabbing for Lucas's ankle, any part of him he could hold onto.

  One of the men turned. “Orders are clear. Boss wants Lucas Whitaker. Dump the other.” His voice was eerily calm like this was something he did everyday.

  Dump-?

  Jason didn’t even get the chance to ask. A blow came fast, aimed at his side, he grunted, stumbled back, but didn't fall.

  “I said-” Jason snarled, rage boiling up like acid, “Let. Him. Go.”

  He threw himself forward, shoulder-slamming one guy into the van wall. Another came from the side - Jason ducked, swinging blindly. Fist met ribs. Another punch clipped his jaw. He tasted blood.

  “Move, kid!” one of them barked, grabbing Jason by the hoodie.

  Jason twisted, snarled, bit the man’s wrist. The guy yelped.

  Still- Lucas. He was halfway in the van. One hand braced on the edge like he wanted to claw his way out, even though his vision swam. His lips parted around a breathless rasp:

  “Jason- let go!”

  Jason froze.

  Just for a second.

  Let go?

  Let go of what? You?

  “Like hell I will,” Jason growled, spitting blood. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to let you and Ash have all the fun!”

  He lunged forward, grabbing the van door as they tried to slam it shut. His fingers latched on. He could feel the door biting into his skin, feel his knuckles bruise.

  “Jason!” Lucas croaked, voice hoarse.

  “Knock the brat out already!” one of the men snapped.

  Jason’s vision swam, but he still heard it. Still felt it.

  The man closest to Lucas pulled something from his pocket - small, metallic. A syringe?

  Jason’s stomach dropped. “No- don’t you dare-”

  Too late.

  They plunged it into Lucas’s neck. A thin hiss. Lucas jerked once - eyes blown wide in alarm - and then his body slumped, limbs limp like a puppet with cut strings.

  “LUCAS!”

  Jason’s scream tore out of him, guttural, unhinged. He thrashed harder, his feet dragging bloody smears on the asphalt as the van jerked into motion.

  “You son of a-” He elbowed the guy holding him, teeth clenched. His fingers dug into the van door like talons, refusing to let go, skin tearing where the edge bit deep.

  They were moving now. Fast.

  Jason's legs bounced off the curb as the van swerved. Every nerve screamed in pain.

  He didn’t care.

  “LET HIM GO!” he howled.

  Inside, Lucas’s head lolled sideways, bouncing against the seat.

  He looked dead.

  Jason’s lungs burned. His vision blurred.

  He just held on tighter.

  Fingers bruised. Blood dripping. Shoulders screaming.

  “LET HIM GO!”

  The van picked up speed. Jason’s feet scraped and skidded behind him, barely touching ground now as the momentum dragged him forward.

  “Jesus, he’s still holding on-!”

  “Then take him too!”

  “What? Boss said-”

  “Take him too! We’ll sort it out later!”

  Rough hands grabbed his hoodie, yanked at his collar, fists slamming into his ribs as they dragged him half-up, half-in. The metal floor scraped against his knees as he was pulled into the dark, stinking inside of the van like a ragdoll.

  Jason didn’t stop swinging.

  Didn’t stop biting, thrashing, cursing every one of them.

  Didn’t stop until a knee slammed into his side and someone wrestled his arms behind his back with zip-ties, so tight it made his fingertips go numb.

  Lucas was slumped against the seat, his head lolling with the van’s motion, mouth slightly open. Completely unconscious.

  Jason was thrown across from him.

  The door slammed shut.

  —-------------------------------------------------

  Ash shoved his hands deep in his pockets and stared. The air was thick between them. Lucas could hear his own heartbeat in his ears as he and Jason stood like statues. The streetlight above them flickered.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Jamie always says that flickering lights is not a good sign. They always cut out… No, why am I thinking stuff like that? Jamie is paranoid. He’s making me paranoid too-

  Ash took a deep breath. “Lucas. Jason. I have to tell you both something.”

  Jason forced a laugh. His smile didn't reach his eyes. “Finally got the guts to ask us to hang out, huh? You know, it’s always me or Lucas who forces you out on weekends, otherwise, you’d stay home like a sore-”

  His words died when Ash didn't react. Didn’t roll his eyes or shut him up like he normally would. Lucas felt something twist in his stomach.

  “I’m joining Anthony Jack.”

  Eek?

  Lucas barked a laugh, “Scram. It’s not funny.” He looked to Jason for backup, but Jason’s face had gone pale.

  Ash didn't blink. “I’m joining Anthony Jack.”

  Jason stepped forward slowly, like approaching a live bomb. “You’re serious.”

  “I am,” Ash said, voice flat like roadkill.

  Lucas felt his stomach drop. “He killed my dad.”

  “I know.”

  Of course he knew.

  Lucas had told him. In that shaking, pathetic whisper four months ago. In the dark. Asked him- begged him- to understand.

  Ash had nodded then.

  Lucas remembered.

  He remembered.

  And now?

  Jason’s hands shot out, grabbing Ash by the shoulders and shaking him so hard Ash’s hood fell back.

  “We are supposed to help Lucas!” Jason shouted. “You didn’t had to lick Jack’s boots! Are you out of your damn mind?!”

  Ash didn’t flinch. His voice came out soft. Empty.

  “This is my life. You don’t get a say in it.”

  Lucas couldn’t breathe.

  His feet moved before his brain caught up.

  His fist flew before he could stop it.

  Ash’s head snapped to the side with a sick sound. He staggered, caught himself. A line of blood slid from his lip.

  He didn’t wipe it.

  Didn’t yell.

  Just looked up slowly and met Lucas’s eyes. Calm. Still.

  Like the punch didn’t hurt half as much as everything else did.

  Jason grabbed Lucas from behind, arms locking around his waist before he could throw another hit.

  “LET ME GO, JASON!” Lucas screamed, struggling wildly. “I’m gonna kill this lying piece of shit- let me GO!”

  “Lucas, stop!” Jason’s voice was frantic. “It’s not worth it-!”

  Ash finally wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. The blood smeared across his skin.

  “This is bigger for me,” he said.

  Lucas froze.

  His voice dropped into something eerily calm. “What’s bigger than your friends?”

  Ash didn’t look away.

  “Me,” he said. “Because I value my life.”

  Lucas couldn’t speak.

  Jason’s grip loosened. Just a little.

  Ash looked down at his shoes.

  Then-

  A car rolled up beside them, its headlights slicing through the quiet.

  Black. Tires humming.

  The back window rolled down halfway.

  Anthony Jack didn’t even look at them. Just leaned a little from the passenger side and said, “Come on, Ash. We’re getting late.”

  Ash took one small step forward.

  Lucas snapped. “We should’ve never trusted you-” his voice cracked, “-you’re dead to me.”

  Ash paused.

  Didn’t turn.

  Didn’t say sorry.

  Didn’t say anything.

  Jason stepped up beside Lucas. Quiet. Tight. Angry in that quiet way that only Jason could be.

  “If you walk into that car,” Jason said, “don’t ever show your face around us again.”

  Ash stood there for a heartbeat longer. As if he could walk back, join Lucas and Jason and say sorry, I was out of my damn mind or maybe I would never-

  Then he walked.

  Straight to the car. Slid into the seat.

  Didn’t look back once.

  The car pulled away.

  The streetlight flickered one more time and cut out entirely.