The Keys to freedom

Dont kick a rat while it's down

James pulled his truck into the parking lot next to the football field, the low rumble of the engine dying out as they exited. The late afternoon sun was forming shadows over the field, where Eric was finishing up his practice. The sound of whistles and shouts reached their ears as they leaned against the car, waiting.

Jessper folded her arms and glanced at the field. "I'll never get the appeal of chasing a ball around just to get tackled by a bunch of sweaty smelly guys."

Grayson chuckled, shaking his head. "That's such a girl thing to say."

Oz stayed silent, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes flickering across the parking lot as if searching for something—or someone. She knew Pyke would be here for practice, and she prayed their paths wouldn't cross. Grayson noticed her tension but didn't say anything. He didn't have to. The moment she stiffened, he knew why.

James noticed too. "Trouble incoming."

They turned to see Pyke and his crew walking toward them all sweaty from practice. Harper was right by his side, along with Draven and Jack their expressions cold. Pyke's eyes locked on Oz, a crooked smile creeping onto his face.

"I was hoping to run into you bunch," he said as he stopped a few feet from them. His gaze lingered on Oz before shifting to Grayson. "After crossing over into our turf the other night? You think we were just gonna let that slide"

"Were just picking up Eric, Pyke." Jessper said sharply, her arms folded leaning against the truck. "No need to start trouble,"

He laughed, a short, mocking sound. "Yeah, well you see, I have a reputation to uphold, and there's got to be some type of punishment. You crossed a line." He stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. "And unfortunately, we have to teach you not to cross it again."

Jessper shifted, standing beside Grayson, but her eyes flicked toward Oz, whose jaw was clenched. Pyke noticed too and he smirked at her.

Her face hardened, but she didn't say a word. She knew this wasn't just about turf. This was personal. He was mad at her, and this was his twisted way of revenge.

"Don't start this, Pyke," she finally said. "You don't need to do this."

His smile faded, replaced by something colder. "Oh, but I think I really do."

Before Grayson could react, Harper lunged forward, shoving him hard in the chest. Grayson stumbled back but quickly regained his footing. James was already moving, throwing a hard punch at Jack, landing it square in his jaw. He staggered, then charged back at him, and the parking lot erupted into chaos.

Grayson ducked as Harper swung at him again, narrowly avoiding the punch. He retaliated with a solid hit to Harper's ribs, but he shrugged it off, coming at him with more aggression.

Oz lunged toward Jack who was pounding on James, but before she could get to him, Pyke's arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back.

"Oh no you don't," he hissed in her ear, carrying her away. His breath hot against her neck. "Leave the fighting to the men."

"Let me go!" She yelled over the chaos, twisting and kicking, trying to break free from his grip. "You're pathetic, Pyke."

For a split second, his smirk wavered, his eyes darkening with anger. "This isn't about us, Oz. This is about respect—something you and your friends are about to learn the hard way."

Meanwhile, Jessper had jumped onto the back of Draven, using her tiny fists to rain down punches with everything she had. "Get off me, you stupid bitch!" he roared, staggering under her blows.

Harper stormed over, grabbing Jessper and yanking her off, tossing her to the side like she weighed nothing. "Stay out of this, Jess!" He yelled as he dropped her to the ground.

Pyke released Oz, to move in on Grayson. He grabbed him in a chokehold while Draven began slamming punches into his stomach. Grayson's face contorted with pain as he tried to gasp for air.

"Pyke, stop! Please!" Oz shouted, but his grip didn't loosen. His hold on Grayson remained iron tight.

Fury surged inside her, boiling over as she darted forward, wrapping her arms around Draven's biceps and yanking him back. The distraction was enough for Grayson to rip himself free, stumbling as he hit the ground. But before he could scramble to his feet, Pyke was already on him again. With a sharp, brutal kick to the stomach, Grayson gasped, his body folding as he collapsed back into the dirt.

Draven spun on Oz, grabbing her from behind and locking his arm around her throat. She reacted on instinct, biting down hard on his arm.

"Ah! You crazy bitch!" Draven yelled, shoving her roughly away, his hand twisting into her hair as he yanked her to the ground. His rage boiled over, as he raised his leg, ready to strike her.

But before the blow could land, Pyke grabbed him by the back of his shirt and jerked him away. "You got a death wish?" He growled, shoving Draven back.

"She bit me!" Draven shouted.

"I don't care if she bit your damn arm off. Don't. Touch her." he spit with rage.

Pyke turned sharply and he crouched down to help her up. He reached for her, his fingers brushing against her arm, but before he could get a firm grip, she jerked away, refusing his help.

With a quiet huff, she pushed herself up on her own, brushing the dirt from her clothes.

Just then, a loud whistle cut through the air, freezing everyone in place. The shrill sound echoed across the parking lot, pulling every gaze toward the edge of the field. Eric stood there, fresh out of the locker room.

"What the hell is going on?" the coaches voice boomed, Eric stood behind him helmet still in hand looking just as confused.

"Just a little lesson, that's all." Pyke smiled.

"Lesson's over," The coach said, his tone hard. "Get the hell out of here."

Pykes eyes flicked back to Oz who rubbed her sore head from where Draven had pulled her hair. His jaw clenched, but instead of saying anything, he exhaled sharply and took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright," he muttered, voice tight, before turning away. His group hesitated for a moment, exchanging glances, then slowly made their way back to their trucks.

The coach, let out a long-suffering sigh and shook his head. "Damn teenagers," he grumbled under his breath before turning and heading back toward the locker rooms.

Eric walked over to the group throwing his hands up in frustration. "What the hell happened here?"

James groaned as he struggled to his feet, one arm wrapping around his ribs, his face twisted with pain. "What it looks like, we got out asses kicked."

Grayson, still crouched in the dirt, wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, wincing as he let out a short, breathy laugh. "We were outnumbered,"

Jessper frowned, hands on her hips. "It was four against four, you ninny. Did they hit you so hard you forgot how to count?"

Grayson shot her a lopsided grin, despite the pain. "You two are girls. Your participation doesn't count."

Jessper scoffed, crossing her arms. "Oh, excuse me. Next time, I'll just sit back and watch while you get your face rearranged."

Oz, still rubbing her sore scalp, rolled her eyes. "I second that statement."

Eric exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "So, can someone explain why you all just got your asses handed to you?"

James shifted, wincing as he pressed a hand to his ribs. "Pyke's an asshole."

Eric nodded without hesitation. "Enough said."

Oz's gaze drifted toward the parking lot, where Pyke stood by his truck, watching. Their eyes met for the briefest moment. Then, he turned away, climbed into his truck, and drove off.

She should've said it out loud. Said the truth—that they got into this mess because of her. Because she had upset him.