“I’m so fucking sorry that happened to you.”
My voice breaks. Quiet.
“How did you do it, Lucas?”
“How did you survive that day?”
“How did you keep going?”
“How did you let yourself love and trust someone like me after what they did to you?”
He breathes, soft and peaceful now. I feel pressure at the back of my eyes, and I swallow it down.
I don’t know how he made it through that night.
But I swear on my life, he’ll never face anything like it again.
Not while I’m breathing.
***
I park the delivery bike just off the sidewalk. The street is quiet—only the low hum of a passing car and the soft click of a guy walking his dog across the road.
Helmet on. Padded courier jacket zipped to the neck. Gloves. Boots. Every inch of me masked in plain sight.
I swing open the bike's rear compartment and pull out the insulated delivery box, weighed down with just enough to pass for legit. Then walk toward the building.
The glass doors to the lobby slide open without resistance.
Inside, everything is clean and upscale—marble floors, abstract wall art, security cameras tucked neatly into corners. But every lens is useless right now. Maksim made sure of that.
“You’re in,” his voice crackles low through the mic tucked into my ear. “Security feed’s on a loop. Motion detection is overridden. You’re a ghost.”
I don’t reply. Just nod slightly and head toward the elevators.
I tap the digital keypad beside the elevator panel and enter the six-digit access code Maksim built—a spoof code registeredunder a verified third-party courier service. He’s a freak of nature with this kind of shit.
“Fifteen minutes before the system pings and starts rechecking itself. Josh and Caleb are still inside, movement confirmed five minutes ago.” Maksim says again.
“I know that,” I mutter, low and clipped.
I’ve been on them for a week. After I watched that video… after I saw what they did to Lucas—I couldn’t sleep. I reached out to his mother. Asked her for anything she knew about them, and she gave me a little info, not much, just their full names, and that was all I needed. She told me Tim had been in a coma for years, after the incident, but had died recently. Good. One less name on the list.
The moment I had full names, Maksim was on it. He didn’t ask why, just looked at me, saw the weight in my face, and nodded. That was enough. Within hours, I had locations, addresses, job records, and photos. Turned out Caleb and Josh live out in another city and are also roommates in an apartment complex, and Nate is in China now, working as a travel nurse.
Living the life.
Not for long.
The elevator dings softly.
I step out.
The hallway is pristine—white walls, polished floors, silence hanging heavy like something sacred lives here. Apartment 222 is just down the hall, straight ahead. My boots echo as I walk, each step calculated, controlled.
But underneath the surface…
I’m not calm.
