The first thing that came to Lucas’s mind was- It was cold.
He was feeling so cold, chilly air always sucked. It had a way of creeping in his bones, rattling them and making him gritting his teeth.
October, his groggy mind supplied. Of course, it was October.
Lucas had never liked winter. It wasn’t about he didn’t like wearing sweaters, which he didn’t, not even the fact that the days felt so damn short. No, for him, winter was personal.
Winter hurt.
It turned the simple act of breathing into a battle, and for someone with asthma, every breath during these months felt like inhaling through a straw.
He winced, the movement drawing his attention to the other reason he was cold. He wasn’t sitting, wasn’t leaning against anything. Instead, he was sprawled on the ground, and the floor beneath him felt like ice. The chill seeped through his clothes, pressing against his back like a constant reminder of how much he hated the cold.
Where am I?
His thoughts were slow. Memories surfaced- Liam’s face, the sneer on his lips, the handkerchief. That smell. Sickly sweet, overpowering, suffocating.
His chest tightened further, and this time it wasn’t just from the cold.
Damn it, Liam.
Lucas tried to move, but his body didn’t cooperate. His arms felt pinned down, heavy and useless. Not just heavy. Bound.
He twisted his wrists, but nothing worked.
He let his head fall back against the floor, exhaling through his nose. The air burned again, sharper, and his lungs screamed in protest. The panic was there too.
He knew better than to let it take over. Panic wouldn’t help- it never did. It would only tighten his chest further, make breathing harder, make everything worse. But knowing and doing were two very different things, and the cold wasn’t making it any easier.
You’re tied up. You’re cold. You can barely breathe. But you’re alive.
The thought should have been comforting, but it wasn’t. Not really.
How long have I been here? He had no sense of time, no idea how much had passed since Liam had pressed that damn handkerchief to his face.
Lucas swallowed hard, his throat dry, his breaths coming faster despite his best efforts to slow them down. He twisted his wrists again, more out of frustration than hope. The ropes didn’t budge.
This is bad. This is really bad.
He knew he was in the hideout; that much was confirmed. But where were Blake and his lackeys? They didn’t just tie Lucas up and left him there for just fun, right?
So, where the hell were they?
One thought that came was; I should call someone and get outta here.
But the main purpose of why he was here hadn’t been conveyed to Blake yet- he couldn’t just invite him to the hideout and then run off like a coward. He needed to tell Blake that he was going to quit.
But how could he if Blake wasn’t there?
At that same moment, the door creaked open. There was a rush of air inside, and Lucas shrugged it off, keeping his eyes on the people entering, sickening smiles plastered on their faces.
Blake and his lackeys.
There were six or seven of them- Lucas couldn’t count them, when his only focus was on Liam.
Liam, who forcefully brought him here, and toyed with him by cutting off the air getting in his body. Lucas didn’t know why; but the mere sight of Liam standing in front of him made Lucas angry; he wanted to shove past them all and grab Liam by the throat, punching him across the face-
I should stop. I came here to quit, not to break their noses.
“Oh, great. You’re awake. I was going to ask Liam to wake you up. Seems like I was late.” Blake said, his voice low but bitter. He came closer, and that was when Lucas noted- he looked different somehow.
Not by appearance, he still had the dishevelled blonde hair and menacing hazel eyes that sparkled with something, but by expression. It wasn’t like he wasn’t angry, he usually was, but this time, he seemed more than angry. He looked wickedly mad.
Like he wanted to rip everyone apart.
Lucas's gaze stayed locked on Blake, his jaw tightening. "Hey, Blake. What’s the meaning of this? I came here to talk, not to start a fight."
Blake’s smile didn’t waver.
"You think that? I’m not stupid. I know what you want to tell me."
Eek? He does?
Lucas shifted uncomfortably. His wrists were sore. "Even if you do, allow me to explain it to you," he muttered, his voice low but steady.
Blake’s eyes narrowed, "Save it. I don’t need your explanations. I know you’re here to quit."
Lucas’ eyes widened- not with fear, but with shock. How in the world did Blake know that Lucas came to quit. He hadn’t mentioned the thing before, not in front of Blake.
So, how did he know?
Unless, of course, Blake had been snooping around last night when he told Ash he would. But there was no way, right?
Blake’s lips parted, and he said, in a low voice, “I saw you hanging around with that freak last night. I knew then you would quit. It had always been your plan, dammit.”
Well, Blake definitely had been snooping around. No doubt.
“Wow,” Lucas said, raising his eyebrows, clearly impressed. “Hey, Blake, I never knew you were this intelligent. Open up my wrists, you deserve a round of applause.”
Blake’s lackeys snickered, but a sharp glance from him silenced them instantly. He straightened, standing tall again as he towered over Lucas.
“Shut your crap," Blake said, almost conversationally. “You never tried to know me, all you were ever interested in was to beat the hell outta me whenever you get the chance.”
“Now, that isn’t half-true.” Lucas winced as he shifted, and then out of nowhere he said, “Can anyone help me sit up? Looking at you guys from this angle makes me wanna believe that you’re all floating.”
Blake scoffed, gesturing at one of his lackeys to go, and he did as Blake told him to.
As Lucas sat up, his legs on the side, bound, and his wrists tied up behind his back, he looked at Blake, “Gosh, now it’s better.” he shaked his head in gratitude, and then added, “Blake, what I wanted to tell you is I have to quit, ‘cause I don’t want you-” butting your nose in my business, is what he wanted to say, but settles on, “-to live your life dedicated to someone else’s goals.”
Blake looked away, taking a moment to understand, then said, “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is, I’ll achieve my goals myself. I told you I needed your help in…killing someone, right?” he looked at Blake, who just looked bored. “Well, now I don’t want you to help me. It’s not a noble goal, and it doesn’t mean I won’t achieve it. I will, just not with you. I will do it alone.”
It took a moment of silence, and then Blake erupted into laughter.
Dark, evil.
“Did you guys hear it?!” He said between laughs, “He wants me to believe this crap!”
Huh?
“Blake, what?” Lucas was shocked, it wasn’t like he was telling a lie or something. Blake laughing at him like he was bluffing made his blood boil.
Blake finally stopped, and rubbed his eyes, as a poor act of shedding tears. “Sure, sure. Boss here can do whatever he wants. It’s not like I need his stupid ordering anymore too.” he searched in his pocket, bringing out a phone, and Lucas’ eyes narrowed.
That phone seems an awful lot like mine…Wait. That is my phone!
Blake took the look of confusion on Lucas’ face, and waved the phone in front of his face, stepping closer. “It’s your phone, right?”
“What will you do with my phone?” Lucas asked, confused.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask your damned friend to come here and rescue your sorry butt.”
What does he mean?
But then it hit him- Blake was going to call Ash here. But for what?
Before Lucas could respond, Blake continued, “I know what you and Ash planned. He urged you to quit, didn’t he? Just so he could rub it in my face that he outsmarted me.”
"You’re wrong. Ash has nothing to do with this. I decided to quit myself." Lucas said, his voice low but firm.
Blake laughed again, standing up and towering over him. "Nothing to do with this?" He started pacing, the phone still twirling between his fingers. "You think I’m stupid, don’t you? You think I don’t see what’s going on? I know he told you to."
Lucas clenched his fists, the ropes biting into his wrists. "You’re overthinking it. This is between you and me. Leave Ash out of it."
Blake stopped pacing and turned to face him, his grin sharp and dangerous. "See, that’s where you’re wrong. It stopped being just about us the moment you dragged him into it."
"I didn’t drag him into anything!" Lucas snapped, his voice rising.
Blake raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Didn’t you? You really expect me to believe that you weren’t planning this with him?"
Lucas glared at him. "I told you, this has nothing to do with him! If you’ve got a problem, deal with me."
But Blake wasn’t listening. He never did. Instead, he held up Lucas’s phone, his grin widening. "Well, since you’re so insistent, let’s see what your little friend has to say about it."
"Blake," Lucas said sharply, his tone a warning. "Don’t."
Blake ignored him, unlocking the phone with ease. Lucas’s stomach churned as he watched him scroll through his contacts, searching for Ash’s name.
"Blake, I’m serious. Leave him out of this."
Blake glanced at him, his expression almost amused. "Relax, Boss. I’m just sending him a little message. Nothing serious."
Lucas’s chest tightened further, and this time it wasn’t just from the cold or the ropes. His breathing quickened as he watched Blake type out the message, his fingers deliberate and slow, like he was savoring every second.
"What are you even trying to prove?" Lucas demanded, his voice sharper now. "This doesn’t involve him!"
Blake didn’t respond, instead, he said out aloud, “I’m sending you an address. Come here.”
Lucas scoffed, Blake just didn’t listen. He had to push him, didn’t he?
Blake leaned closer, waving Lucas’s phone in front of his face. "Oh, Look. He’s typing something."
Lucas’s head snapped up, his glare like ice. "You’re messing with the wrong person," he muttered, his voice low. The typing symbol popped up, and a reply came almost instantly.
.
.
Why?
.
.
Lucas took a heavy breath. Maybe Ash will consider it a prank and ignore him. Maybe he won’t come-
But then, another message came, and Blake turned the phone to Lucas, reading the message aloud.
.
.
I’m coming over. But if this is a stupid joke, you are doing my homework.
.
.
Well, that plan went out the window real fast.
Blake’s lackeys doubled over, laughing as if this was the funniest thing they ever heard. Blake cocked an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the show. "He’s too easy. I didn’t even have to try, and he’s going to come running."
Something inside Lucas snapped. He surged forward, ignoring the ropes cutting into his wrists, and slammed his forehead into Blake’s face with all the strength he could muster.
The crack was satisfying.
Blake stumbled back, clutching his nose with a string of curses. "What the hell?! You little-"
Lucas didn’t get to savor the moment. Blake’s expression shifted, dark and menacing, as blood trickled from his nostrils. The laughter in the room died instantly, replaced by an ominous silence.
"You’ve always pissed me off," Blake growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Before Lucas could brace himself, Blake’s fist collided with his jaw. Pain exploded across his face, his head snapping to the side. He tasted blood- sharp and metallic- as it trickled from his split lip.
Another punch came, then another. Each hit was precise, filled with anger. Lucas’s world blurred, his vision swimming.
When Blake finally stepped back, his chest heaving, Lucas didn’t move. He sat there, his body slumped but his eyes fixed on Blake. Blood dripped from his lip onto the floor, but his gaze was steady.
“I always hated that look in your eyes- as if you’re better than me. As if you can beat the hell outta me whenever the hell you want!” he hissed, then came closer, “But you know what? I don’t care anymore. The only thing that matters is that freak- Ash. If he hadn’t come, none of this would’ve happened.”
He’s damn wrong.
Blake stepped back, running a hand through his hair, as if to calm himself down, then took something glinting outside of his pocket.
A dagger.
“See this?” Blake said, twirling the dagger between his fingers, and chuckling, “This is what Ash will get when he comes here. I’ll show him for sure what it means to mess with me.”
Lucas’ breath hitched.
A dagger? This is how far Blake wants to go now? He’s a coward.
Blake crouched down in front of Lucas, showing him the glint of dagger, and holding it close to Lucas, whispering in his ear.
“Do you know what killing feels like, Lucas?”
Lucas couldn’t focus, all he saw was Blake’s menacing eyes- a wide dangerous, cruel smirk, and low hissing voice.
Lucas didn’t respond, neither did his gaze waver. But for some reason, Lucas didn’t want to know what killing feels like.
"Of course, you don’t," Blake continued. "You think killing is hard? It’s not really. It’s easy. Like breathing."
Lucas felt his stomach twist. If Blake was going to tell him, then would that mean that he had killed someone before? The thought alone was dangerous.
"But you know what it really feels like?" Blake’s voice dropped lower. "It feels like heaven. For one single moment, you’re God. You hold someone’s life in your hands, and you decide whether they live or die. There’s nothing more powerful than that."
The dagger shifted, the sharp edge now grazing Lucas’s skin, just enough to sting.
Blake’s voice took on a darker edge. "You know it’s wrong. You know you shouldn’t have done it. But you don’t stop. You can’t."
Lucas’s breath came quicker now, his chest tightening. He didn’t want to hear this. He didn’t want to know.
"You keep going," Blake hissed, his face inches from Lucas’s now. "Because once you’ve started, stopping feels worse than the killing itself."
Lucas’s throat was dry. This guy’s insane.
Lucas’s fists clenched behind his back, the ropes biting into his skin. His mind screamed at him to fight back, to say something, to stop this madness.
But Blake wasn’t done. He leaned in close. His breath was hot against Lucas’s ear, his voice a low whisper. "You’ll understand that killing feels like both heaven and hell. And once you do, you’ll never be the same."
Lucas felt like he couldn’t breathe. The sensation of never being the same- for himself, for Jamie; felt like it could eat him from the inside.
Blake pulled back, his smirk still firmly in place. He pointed the dagger at Lucas’s chest, the tip just barely grazing the fabric of his shirt. "But don’t worry. I’ll show your little friend first. Maybe then you’ll finally get it."
Lucas’s breath hitched again, his thoughts spiraling. Ash...Don’t come.
Blake stood to his full height, spinning the dagger once more before tucking it back into his pocket.
“Blake…You won’t get away with this.”
Blake watched him with pure loathe and disgust, and then, he erupted into laughter.
“Why not? You see, I’ve got some pretty awesome allies on my side. I’ll kill Ash, they will hide the evidence, and then- the public won’t even know if a guy named Ash existed.”
Which allies…?
“What do you…mean?”
“You don’t seem like the type to remember, but there is a guy, he’s pretty famous though. His name is…”
Lucas didn’t know he stopped breathing for a second.
“...Anthony Jack.”
Lucas felt his world tilt. If his father might’ve been alive when he was born, he would’ve taught him how to ride a bike, who might’ve stayed up late helping with school projects, or who might’ve made pancakes on Sunday mornings.
All of it ripped away by one monster.
Anthony Jack.
The reality hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, Lucas forgot where he was. He forgot about the ropes digging into his wrists, the cold floor against his skin, the dagger Blake had shown him.
His father’s murderer. It all led back to him.
No wonder…No wonder Blake turned out like this. Killing must feel like second nature to someone raised by a man like that.
Blake’s laughter broke. “What’s wrong, Boss?” he sneered, leaning closer. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Lucas didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His thoughts were too loud, too chaotic, to form any words.
Blake tilted his head. “Oh, come on, don’t go all quiet on me now. You were so full of yourself a minute ago.”
Lucas’s silence only seemed to amuse him more. Blake’s smirk widened, and he took a step back, arms spread wide. “You know, my dad always says there’s nothing wrong with killing. It’s just humanity’s way of taking out the trash.”
Lucas’s heart tightened. He felt sick.
Blake crouched down again. “And trash, Lucas, is exactly what people like Ash are.”
Lucas’s fists clenched so hard his nails bit into his palms. His breathing quickened, but he forced himself to steady it.
Before he could find his voice, Blake straightened, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes. “Get ready, boys! We've got a guest coming over!”
Lucas glared at him, his jaw tightening, but he remained silent. There was no use arguing, not with someone so far gone.
Blake’s words replayed.
Killing isn’t bad.
Humanity’s way of taking out the trash.
The very philosophy that had stolen his father from him.
But his dad wasn’t trash. And neither was Ash.
Lucas closed his eyes briefly, forcing himself to push the thought aside. If Ash showed up, it would only make things worse. And if he didn’t?
Lucas wasn’t sure what scared him more.
Lucas’s gaze darted toward the door, silently praying Ash wouldn’t-
And then, it happened.
The door creaked open.
Lucas’s heart sank. No, no, no. Of all the times for Ash to take something seriously.
A figure stepped in slowly, his familiar silhouette outlined against the dim light of the room. Ash.
Lucas’s jaw tightened, his desperation taking the best of him.
“ARE YOU DUMB?!”
Ash blinked, startled, buti nstead, he took a step forward, his face coming into view, calm and unfazed as if he’d walked into the wrong room.
Before Lucas could say anything else, Ash tilted his head slightly, his voice casual. “Hey, Lucas?”
Lucas froze.
The sheer normalcy in Ash’s tone was so out of place that for a second, he thought he’d imagined it. “Uh...yeah?” he replied hesitantly, completely taken aback.
Ash sighed, as if this whole situation was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
“Jason asked me to let you know that if you don’t let him know whether you’re coming to school tomorrow by 8:00 PM, he’ll kill you.”
Eeeek?!