Rites of Passage | Damian x OC

18. The Past/A Foe

"My back is breaking

from taking all of this dead weight,

All give, no take...

If I'm being honest,

I can't take it over and over,

Dead weight hanging off of my shoulders"

~ PVRIS, "Dead Weight"

Chapter 18: The Past/A Foe

4 months ago

Patrick Dobra had lived comfortably in Gotham for over twenty years. He wasn't quite in the city's top ten percent of wealthiest residents, but the hundreds of thousands of dollars he made every year certainly served his taste for expensive living. An unmarried businessman in his mid-forties who knew how to work the economy, stocks, and numbers, he drove to his home near Gotham's outskirts from work every weekday at 4:30 p.m. and arrived nearly an hour later.

He'd spend an hour or so watching the news or on his computer, then he would move on to cooking dinner or ordering food delivery. While eating, Patrick sometimes returned to the television—one time, adult entertainment had been his choice of activity—before heading to bed by 9 p.m. His weekday routine was nothing special and only changed on Fridays when he went out to the bars for a few hours, usually heading home by 2 a.m. Other than that, his social life was practically nonexistent save for a phone call here and there to someone who was probably a family member.

Jess had wondered if their one week of recon was really enough to ensure that their mission would go through smoothly and no one would get caught, but she wasn't the expert anyway. Jax, in his unquestionable authority, had wanted his hands on the prized possessions in Dobra's personal hiding spot as soon as the gang felt like they had the man's routine down.

And so they'd made the plans, gathered the equipment, and carried it out.

One would think the plan involved breaking in while the man wasn't home... because wasn't that the easiest way to avoid capture? But no, Jess had quickly learned during the process that her newfound companions didn't always sneak around in the dark, stealing valuable items and passing them on to their anonymous fence. Frankly, one of the things that made them notorious was that they sometimes directly confronted their victims, particularly when there was a very specific reason for them taking the profitable painting, jewelry, or whatever it was.

"Dobra has undisclosed connections to some guys in Gotham's black market. Word is he's directly profited from illegal activity that got people killed, innocent family members of the criminals who are competition," Beth had told Jess. "So we're going to give him a taste of his own medicine, take what's his, sell to Phoenix, and hopefully send that message."

Despite the security system protecting his modern, three-story home with the small pool in the backyard, Jess had made it over the seven-foot wall with Beth and Wyatt, the three of them dressed in their usual black attire. The perfectly green lawn was lit in the darkness by outdoor lights, and the camera that was on this corner of the home had paint on its lens thanks to Ethan's quick use of their makeshift paintball gun. A little sneaking here and there in the chilly night that Jess could feel through her hooded sweatshirt, and they were slipping through the back door.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her hands were clammy. This was her first time that she was actually confronting someone with the gang—every other break-in and burglary had been under the radar, but ever since they'd discovered that she was a meta-human, the group had wanted to up the risks for a better reward.