Unseen Threads

Chapter 5: Unearthed Threats

The morning sun had barely risen, casting long shadows across the city streets, but Kane Anderson was already wide awake. The remnants of his restless night clung to him like a second skin, his mind churning with memories of battles fought and comrades lost. The cold light of dawn streamed through the cracks in the blinds, illuminating the bare walls of his sparsely furnished apartment. The silence was a stark contrast to the roaring crowds of the MMA ring or the thunderous chaos of the battlefield, yet it offered no solace.

Kane's fingers drummed restlessly against the worn leather of his couch, his senses on high alert despite the stillness of the morning. A half-empty cup of black coffee sat on the table in front of him, the bitter taste lingering on his tongue, but it did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, a gnawing unease that had settled deep in his gut.

His phone buzzed on the table, and Kane snatched it up with the reflexes of a trained soldier. The name on the screen made his blood run cold—*Reed*. His old military contact, a man who rarely called unless the situation was dire.

"Reed," Kane answered, his voice a low growl.

"Kane, we've got a problem," Reed's voice crackled through the speaker, laced with tension. "Remember that organization we took down a few years back? The one we thought was done for good?"

Kane's heart skipped a beat, his grip tightening on the phone. "Yeah, I remember. What about them?"

"They're back," Reed said grimly. "And they're not just looking for revenge. They've got their sights set on everything you care about—including the girl."

Maya. Her name flashed through Kane's mind like a lightning bolt, bringing with it a surge of protectiveness that he hadn't felt in years. The thought of her in danger ignited a fire within him, burning away any lingering doubts or fears. He was no stranger to threats, but this was different. This was personal.

"Where are they?" Kane demanded, his voice edged with steel.

"Scattered, for now," Reed replied. "But they're organizing. We don't have much time before they make their move. You need to get out of the city, take her somewhere safe."

Kane's jaw clenched as he considered his options. Running had never been his style, but he knew better than to underestimate the danger they were facing. This wasn't just about him anymore—Maya was in the crosshairs, and he couldn't let anything happen to her.

"I'll take care of it," Kane said, his voice firm with resolve. "Keep me updated on their movements."

"You got it," Reed agreed. "And Kane—watch your back. These guys don't play by the rules."

The line went dead, leaving Kane alone with the weight of the news. He set the phone down and ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady his racing thoughts. The stakes had just been raised, and there was no room for error. He had to act fast.

Kane pushed himself off the couch, his movements fluid and precise, a product of years of training. He strode across the room to a locked cabinet, where he kept a small arsenal of weapons—remnants of his past life that he had never fully let go of. His fingers brushed over the cold steel of a handgun, its familiar weight grounding him in the reality of the situation.

He holstered the weapon and grabbed a duffel bag, filling it with the essentials: extra ammunition, a first aid kit, a change of clothes. His mind worked in overdrive, strategizing his next steps. He couldn't stay here, not with Maya in danger. They needed to disappear, at least until he could figure out how to neutralize the threat.

But first, he had to warn her.

The streets were still quiet as Kane slipped out of his apartment, the cool morning air biting at his skin. He mounted his motorcycle, the engine roaring to life beneath him, and took off toward Maya's apartment. The city blurred around him, his focus laser-sharp on the task ahead.