“I feel really bad since you may want to hit the hay more than anything right now," Jason started, licking his lips as his eyes wandered out the windshield, rocking his head from side to side. "I actually have an appointment, and I'm running late. Do you mind tagging along with me? It won't be long, I promise." "An appointment?" I blinked. I hadn't really been able to relax since we got back from the arena yesterday. Sure, I had the morning to myself, but Jason had decided he couldn't wait and wanted to take me for a drive around the city all day. It had been activity after activity, and now he wanted to drag me somewhere else? "For what?" I asked. "It's important, and I'd probably get my butt kicked by Jared's people if I'm any later than now," he shrugged, his fingers drumming anxiously on the wheel. I sighed, nodding. "Sure, you're already doing so much to help me out, so I don't mind." "It won't be long, I promise," Jason assured, checking to make sure I had my seatbelt on be
{TW: Illegal street racing} The sound of the megaphone shrieking an alarm set everyone off. I screamed at the top of my lungs as Jason's foot slammed on the gas pedal, and just like everyone else beside and ahead of us, we took off. The screeching of tires on pavement and the cheers from the crowd echoed in my ears as racers flew down the lot and up the ramp that led to a tunnel. Being set in the back gave us a bit of space between our ride and the other drivers, who steered clear of the car with flames painted along the sides. Jason flipped a switch on his steering wheel, and I felt the car jump slightly as it surged forward, speeding past four drivers in the same row. I flinched, my bottom falling back onto the seat as I snapped my head toward him with wide, alarmed eyes. "The hell was that?" I demanded, hugging myself and trying to shrink into the seat, suddenly wishing I had the safety of the backseat away from all of this chaos. "It's just a little extra kick to get started,"
"Dronningens fødselsdag?" I asked, skepticism thick in my voice after last night's chaos. I'd have been fine if Jason had just let me out of the car before the race, but no, he had to add all that extra drama. "Is it illegal?" "No. It's the birth of Queen Mary. No way you can miss this. It's the poor people's day to party," Damien pleaded. "Is she being born now?" I asked sarcastically. "Come on, Jack, everyone is going as well, we'll just go a little earlier," Damien said. "Fine, whatever," I conceded. Damien had promised me it would be more relaxed today. What could go so terribly wrong at a festival? Nothing illegal going on there, right? According to Damien, every year the beautiful and illustrious village held a festival to honor the queen's birthday. It was a time when children traveled throughout the village with their parents, exploring the hundreds of stands filled with food, toys, snacks, and more. This year wasn't any different. The festival would start at noon, and th
{TW: Illegal Gambling} "Remind me how you guys convinced me to come again?" I asked as we neared the imposing double-door entrance of the underground casino. Jared, striding ahead, casually tossed a small white pouch in his hand, the weight of it making a soft thudding sound against his palm. The pungent smell of expensive cologne and cigar smoke hit me like a wall, making me scrunch my nose in distaste. Things had been going so well at the festival, but we were interrupted by Jared and Jason, who had other plans. Damien was pissed about it, of course. "I heard this is the best underground gambling den in the village. Prize pools up to three hundred million," Jared replied nonchalantly, his voice filled with excitement. "Ah, yes," I muttered, eyes scanning the chandelier overhead as if I could escape the situation by glaring at the opulent surroundings. "But we've never gambled in this high-profile of a setting. I don't understand why we aren't just pickpocketing." "First time f
The morning after wasn't any easier. The remnants of last night's chaos still clung to me—the adrenaline, the tension, the absurdity of everything that had happened. But no matter how much I wanted to stretch out this little vacation, I knew I couldn't avoid the inevitable any longer. It was time to face my dad. Time to finally bring the mission to an end. Damien, still sprawled out on the couch, groaned as he noticed me gathering my things. "It hasn't been a week yet," he whined, looking up at me with an exaggerated pout. "Damien, I've already called my mom," I said, stuffing my clothes into my bag. "I'm heading home today. The purpose of coming here has been served. I'm all relaxed and loose." Plus, there were only a little more than twenty-four hours before my dad woke up. Jason, who had been silently watching from the doorway, smirked. "I can check if you're really loose or not," he teased. I shot him a look, crossing my arms. "You want one last big job before we go, don't y
The room was thick with tension. The arbitrator cleared his throat and began, "If there's no objection and no more proof to be shown, we will take a short—" "No! I have more proof!" Debbie suddenly shrieked, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. She dug into her pocket and yanked out a ring, holding it high for everyone to see. "Jack's ring! I found it on the stairs, right at the spot where he pushed Dad down! How do you explain this?!" "Yes, that ring!" One of Debbie's witnesses, Wendy, rolled her eyes dramatically. "That was definitely the one he was wearing that day! It's that tacky one!" So she was the one who called my ring tacky in the hallway. I studied the ring in Debbie's hand, and at first glance, it did look like mine. But there were subtle differences, ones that made it obvious it was a fake. "I don't think that's my ring," I said plainly, raising my hand to reveal my actual ring, still in perfect condition. "I'd never lose Dad's class ring." "LIAR!!" Debb
Mom's scream tore through the morning silence, jolting the entire house awake. "CALL THE DOCTOR, QUICK!!" My mother's frantic voice rang out, raw with panic and hope. "HONEY!" "Ma'am, please calm down!" "He blinked just now!" "Mr. Spencer! Can you see me?!" the doctor's voice barked, sharp and urgent. I shot up from my bed and ran to the door, peeking inside with my heart hammering against my ribs. "This is a miracle! He's completely woken up from his coma!" Right on time. "He just moved his finger a bit!" Mom sobbed, her hands clutching his arm like she was afraid to let go. I exhaled, stepping away from the scene before anyone could notice me. Slipping back into my room, I collapsed onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. This was it. This was the moment of truth. Where did Dad's loyalty truly lie? Would he side with me? Or would he choose his beloved little girl? I didn't leave my room that entire day. Doctors rushed in and out of the house, their hushed voices carrying do
"Name?" the receptionist asked, barely glancing up from his tablet. "Jack Spencer," I replied, trying to steady my nerves. "Name of the inmate you're visiting?" "Deborah Spencer." The receptionist's fingers danced over the screen, his expression indifferent. I tapped my foot impatiently, glancing around. The waiting area was cold and unwelcoming. The walls were a dull gray, and the fluorescent lights cast a harsh glare, emphasizing the grime and wear of the place. The air was thick with a sense of desperation and hopelessness, as if the building itself had absorbed the sorrow of its occupants. "Alright," the receptionist said finally, pointing towards a gate. "Through the gate, then left. You can go in." "Thanks," I muttered, nodding slightly as I walked past him. I entered the visiting room and took a seat, my eyes scanning the room. Most of the visitors were middle-aged men, probably fathers, brothers, or boyfriends. There were a few heavily tattooed women as well, sitting in
The dock was quiet, shrouded in a cold stillness that matched the steel-gray water stretching beneath the boats. Dock #6 was lined with vessels of all sizes, their moored hulls creaking faintly with the occasional ripple of the tide. I stood alone, my breath visible in the frigid air, waiting for Orla to emerge from her hiding spot. Around me, Damien, Honey, Jared, and Jason worked to ensure no one could approach the boats, sweeping the area to block off any possible escape route she might attempt. Finally, movement caught my eye. A figure hesitantly stepped out from one of the boats, glancing around nervously. There she is. "Hey! Took you long enough, Orla!" I called, my voice cutting through the silence, snapping her attention toward me. "Did you really think you could get away so easily?" "J-Jack?!" she stammered, her face a mix of shock and dread. "How did you—" "How?" I smirked. "You're easy to find because you're you. Thanks for not listening to your husband, by the way. I
"What are you doing?!" Jason yelled. "Can't you see? We're running away, motherfucker!" I shot him a grin and flipped him off over my shoulder. We rounded the corner at full speed, the sound of sirens and shouting fading behind us. Just as we were about to take another turn, Honey emerged casually from the opposite side of the building. I skidded to a stop, nearly crashing into her. "I assume it's all there?" I asked, straightening up and catching my breath. "Yup," Honey replied, unbothered. We kept moving, walking briskly toward the car. "What's all up there?" Jared asked, glancing back at the building. "Remember those drugs that were just sitting around?" Honey smirked. "They've been offloaded into that lady's apartment. Stashed everywhere, too—closets, drawers, vents. There's no quick fix for her now." Jason's eyes widened in realization. "Ohhh, no wonder you only let me fight!" "Exactly," I nodded. "If Damien got caught on camera fighting, it'd look really bad as the chie
{TW: Violence} "You shitheads!" Matthew roared, his voice raw with fury. "Today's your last day in this world! Thirty minutes?! I only need five to bash your fucking heads in!" He charged at me again, throwing a flurry of punches so fast they started to lose precision. His movements were messy, driven by panic and desperation, but the sheer force behind them made them dangerous. I ducked and dodged, his fists whistling past my head, occasionally countering with sharp, punishing blows. "Don't get too cocky," I warned just before I landed a devastating uppercut that sent Matthew crashing to the ground. I stepped closer, smirking down at the groaning man. "Hey, I thought you needed five minutes. It's barely been three!" I taunted. "What a disappointment." Matthew's face twisted in fury, his teeth gritted as he forced himself up. "What, you fucker?! Disappointment?!" His glare burned into me, pure venom. "You didn't even do shit! You cowardly asshole! You're dead!" I didn't even
Jason pulled open my car door, and I took a second to adjust my t-shirt, airing myself out from the lingering heat of adrenaline. He was already in mission mode—his usual smirk replaced by a focused, grim determination. According to Paul, some of Orla's men were holed up in a nearby brownstone apartment. Seven of them in one place. If we played this right, we could take them all down in one sweep. "No way they don't know I'm coming for them," I muttered as we approached the building. "And yet, they're still cozying up to Aunt Orla like nothing's wrong." Jason's lips twitched into the faintest smirk. "Guess we'll see just how brave they are." "It won't matter. Damien's going to get the credit for calling them in anyway." I sighed. Damien had been on clean-up duty for a while now. I just couldn't bring myself to involve him in this side of things. But in a way, it worked in his favor—his tip-offs had skyrocketed his father's reputation with the police force. The Chief of Police had
Jared approached me with his usual smug grin, holding up a bag in one hand. "Hey Jack! Sorry I'm late, but I thought you'd want a snack." I eyed the bag warily before snatching it out of his hand, the smell of warm beef patty hitting my nose. "Oh, you bastard! How thoughtful!" I said, already taking a bite. The flaky crust and seasoned beef were a much-needed comfort after everything that had happened in the Deans office. "How's the investigation going?" Jared's expression shifted slightly. "Nothing's really changed. Riley is in prison, and that aunt of yours is laying low, but I was able to find out some things. Whatever scared act she's pulling is fake. She's an active participant." I paused mid-bite. "Elaborate." "She's running McIntyre Baked Goods, but her nickname in the streets is 'The Shapeshifter,'" Jared explained. "She plays the part of a scared, innocent little lamb to avoid trouble, but she's your uncle's largest supporter. She's been like that before you were born. Sh
Three fucking days of silence! No test results, nothing from the Roth gang or the McIntyre family, no system missions—just the same monotonous grind of school. I hated to admit it, but I was bored. Really bored. My mind wandered endlessly, trying to imagine the possibilities for what could happen next. But no, nothing. No updates, no action, just me stuck in this mundane loop of school and home. And then the voice over the intercom broke through my thoughts. "Jack Spencer to the principal's office. Now, please." Maybe this was the system finally rewarding me. Maybe I had improved more than anyone else at this school—no unexcused absences, a few tardies, and some detentions. I grabbed my bag and walked out of class as quickly as I could, hoping this was some good news. The hallways felt unusually quiet as I made my way to the office, the echoes of my footsteps punctuating the tense silence. "Go right in," the receptionist said, barely sparing me a glance as she typed away at her
The aftermath of everything was truly uneventful. The attorney general denied his involvement in everything the livestream had exposed, but he somehow managed to keep his position. All mentions of me being a suspect were overshadowed by Riley McIntyre's arrest and the scrutiny directed at the Attorney General's office. I was grounded, naturally. My mom was furious with me for not letting the whole McIntyre thing go and for continuing to dig into her past. Apparently, my obsession with fighting the McIntyre family made her think I wasn't putting enough focus on my schoolwork. So, no going out again until school started. Which, of course, sucked. Not just because I was stuck in the house, but because midterms were here. And I hadn't studied for a damn thing. Not a page. I hadn't had the time with everything that was going on, and frankly, I hadn't cared much. "This academy prides itself on excelling in all aspects of its curriculum!" the examiner announced as he passed out thick
The screen flickered as the livestream began, showing an empty bedroom. The room was all too familiar. It was my house. Confusion clouded my thoughts as I watched the chat flood with comments. "Why the hell is this on my feed?" "What's going on here?" "Clickbait much?" I couldn't help but wonder what kind of sick game this was. But then the door suddenly burst open. Riley McIntyre stormed in, his face twisted with fury. His arm wasn't in a cast, which caught me off guard, but his rage was unmistakable. *************** "Eva Spencer! I finally found—" Riley started, his voice cracking as he scanned the empty room. His frustration was palpable. "What the fuck? Where'd that bitch go? Again with the bull—" "I knew you'd come," came a calm, cold voice from the doorway. Damien stepped into view, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he locked eyes with Riley. *************** My mom gasped beside me. "What's he doing?" I quickly shushed her, not wanting to make a sound. My focus was comp
{TW: Violence} The fight began the moment I stepped into the room. Riley's shocked expression quickly turned into a snarl, but before I could get to him, the man in the suit stepped in, trying to block my path. "Hey!" he yelled, throwing a wild punch that connected with the side of my face. The impact made me stumble, but I powered through, shoving him aside as hard as I could. Riley had barely risen from his chair when I swung my fist. My punch landed cleanly on the side of his head, sending him sprawling out of the chair. The man may have been big, but he was old, and it was clear he hadn't kept up with his regimen. His face twisted in pain as he hit the floor. The man in the suit gasped and screamed at me. "If you joke around about the law, do you expect me to do nothing?!" "You fucker!" Riley growled, scrambling back to his feet. I didn't give him the chance to recover and brought my foot down hard, aiming for him again. Riley dodged and, in one swift motion, grabbed the cha