The Keys to freedom

Cat and Rat chase

James slammed the bed of his truck shut full with a bag of supplies and adjusted his jacket, still feeling the soreness in his ribs from the beating they took, twice in 2 days. "Let's go" he said hitting his hand on the top of his truck, Eric made his way around to the front opening the passenger door, but Grayson had stopped staring at something with intensity.

Across the lot from the Jackson residence parked by the side of a store, was Pyke's truck. It gleamed under the fading light, its oversized tires and custom paint job a reminder of who owned it. Grayson's jaw clenched. His hands curled into fists, the memory of the last couple of days flashing hot and fast in his mind.

James followed his gaze and sighed. "Come on, man. Not worth it.

But Grayson wasn't listening. His eyes were glued to the truck in rage. "Do they really think they can just treat us like that without consequences?" He laughed. "I think its tike we teach them a lesson,"

Eric reached out, trying to grab his arm. "Grayson, leave it. He's inside. We don't need more trouble."

But it was too late. He had already turned on his heel and was heading for the truck bed, his eyes scanning for something, as he reached his hand in and grabbed a wooden baseball bat. He snatched it up with a tight grip, the weight of it feeling good in his hands as he twirled it.

"Grayson!" James hissed, stepping closer, but his eyes were wild now, as he ran across the street into the parking lot and didn't hesitate. The bat swung down hard, smashing into Pyke's side window with a deafening crash. Glass exploded, shattering across the pavement in jagged shards.

He didn't stop. He brought the bat down again and again, the sound of breaking glass filling the quiet parking lot. The side mirrors went next, then the front windshield. Each swing was fueled by the memory of every bruise, every insult, every humiliating blow.

"Grayson!" Eric shouted, finally grabbing him by the shoulders and yanking him back. "Enough, man! Enough!"

He stood there, chest heaving, gripping the bat so tight his knuckles were white. His eyes were blazing, but the truck was wrecked, every window smashed, glass littering the ground, and the bat now hanging limply in his hands.

James shot a glance toward the store, knowing Pyke would be out soon. "We gotta go. Now."

For a moment, Grayson didn't move, still staring at the damage he'd done, the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Finally, he dropped the bat to his side, letting it dangle. "Yeah," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "Let's go."

Without another word, they jumped into the truck, and James gunned the engine. Tires screeched against the gravel as they sped out of the lot, leaving behind the wreckage of Pyke's truck and the promise of a confrontation yet to come.

~

The Cove was busy that evening, a steady hum of conversation, the clatter of dishes, and the low murmur of waves crashing just beyond the open windows. Oz moved between tables, balancing trays of food with practiced ease, her dark curly hair pulled into a messy bun. She smiled politely at the customers, though her mind was miles away. As she cleared one of the tables, she heard the bell on the front door ring, so she quickly turned to greet them, and her heart dropped.

Pyke had just walked in.

He stood there for a moment, scanning the room with a predatory gaze, his broad frame filling the doorway. Oz froze, her fingers tightening around the tray she was holding.

His eyes locked onto her, and she could see the fury burning behind them. And she guessed he wasn't there for the fish. He started moving toward her, his steps purposeful, his jaw set in a hard line.

She quickly placed the tray on the counter and made for the back, slipping through the swinging kitchen doors to avoid a conversation with him. She ducked into the narrow hallway, past the storage closet, and headed straight for the bathroom.

The door clicked shut behind her, and she leaned against the sink, trying to catch her breath. The bathroom was small, barely enough space to move around, and it was silent except for the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears.

A moment later, the door burst open.

Pyke stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind him. His presence filled the tiny room, making it feel even smaller. His face was twisted with anger, his fists clenched at his sides.

She swallowed hard. "What the hell do you want now, Pyke?" she asked, her voice steady despite the fear crawling up her throat.

He stepped closer, his large frame looming over her. "You know exactly what I want," he growled. "Where's Grayson and James?"

Of course, It was about the two people he seemed hellbent on destroying lately.

"I don't know," she said, meeting his gaze. "I haven't talked to them tonight,"

He slammed his fist into the wall next to her, making her jump. "Don't lie to me!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the small space. "You think I don't know it was them that destroyed my truck?"

Her pulse was racing now, she had no idea what he was talking about, but she stood her ground, refusing to let him intimidate her. "I don't know where they are, Pyke. And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

His eyes narrowed, as he inched closer to her and after a long, tense silence, he spoke, his voice a deadly whisper. "You tell Grayson and James they can't run from me. I'll find them. And when I do, they'll wish they'd never messed with me."

She glared back at him, her fear replaced with anger. "They're not scared of you, Pyke. And neither am I."

His smirk deepened. "Is that so?"

Before she could react, he planted both hands against the wall beside her head, his arms boxing her in.
"Don't think that just because of our history, I'm going to let this slide," he warned. "You think the last couple of encounters were bad? That was me going easy on them." He leaned in slightly, the heat of his breath ghosting against her skin. "But now?" His smirk returned, sharper, more menacing. "Now, they're really going to learn."

Her back pressed harder against the wall as if she could melt into it, disappear entirely.

"Its kind of sad," she said raising her chin.

"What is?"

"You...Threatening people just to feel important. You act like you run this town, but we both know you're just a scared little boy trying to prove himself to daddy."

Something flickered in his eyes—something quick, almost imperceptible—but then his smirk returned, colder this time. "Careful, Oz," he said, with fake amusement. "I've been lenient with you so far—don't give me a reason to change that." He threatened.

"Is that supposed to scare me?" she shot back, her voice steady despite the rapid beat of her heart.

His smirk widened before he leaned in just enough that she could feel the heat of his breath. "Not yet."

She clenched her jaw, refusing to react. His eyes fell to her lip, more swollen than the last time he had seen her, and his gaze softened slightly.

She pushed against his chest, shoving him just enough to create space between them. He let her, but only barely. His gaze lingered on her for a second longer before he finally stepped back, dropping his arms to his sides. He brushed back one of her curls from her face and grabbed the tip of her nose with his thumb. "Just pass the message along for me, butterfly." he said. Then, he pushed away from her, stepping back toward the door. His eyes lingered on her, filling with remorse for a split second, guilt for confronting her like he did, for threatening her. He looked away his hands pressed against the door before he pushed it open and let it swing shut behind him.

She stayed there for a moment, her heart still pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She knew Pyke wouldn't let this go, but she also knew Grayson and James wouldn't back down either. After a long moment, she splashed cold water on her face, pushed her hair back, and left the bathroom, determined to keep pushing forward—no matter what he tried to pull next.