When the skies turn black and the winds howl like the end of days, four people- two guys and two women- find themselves trapped in a coastal town under siege by more than just nature's fury. A hurricane's fury has torn everyone's world apart, but th...
Jack Stenner sat at the back of a rundown diner, slouched in a booth, nursing a black coffee. His dark brown eyes darted across the room, picking up on every detail-the grease-stained walls, the flickering fluorescent light, the sizzle of a broken-down jukebox. He'd been doing this for years-blending in, staying invisible.
He wasn't expecting company.
The bell above the door jingled. Jack barely lifted his gaze, but the low chatter around him died. Whoever walked in wasn't regular. The heavy footsteps echoed across the cracked linoleum. A hulking figure slid into the seat across from Jack. Dante, a brute with tattoos crawling up his neck like they were escaping something worse. Dante smiled, showing off a missing tooth.
"You don't look like much," Dante said, leaning forward, his voice a gravelly rumble.
Jack stirred his coffee lazily, glancing up with a blank expression. "Never said I was."
𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤
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Dante snorted. "Frankie says you're worth a lot of trouble. Says you know things. Can do things."
Jack set the spoon down carefully, eyes locking with Dante's. "Frankie's an idiot."
Dante grinned wider. "Maybe, but idiots get desperate. And you're about to do him a favor."
---
THREE WEEKS EARLIER:
A Debt Comes Due
It was supposed to be a quiet night, but that's when things always go to shit. Jack had been living off the grid for the last six years, keeping his head down. He didn't expect Frankie Malone, an old acquaintance, to show up on his doorstep, drenched in sweat, panting like a cornered animal. Frankie wasn't just nervous-he was terrified. Jack could smell the fear on him.
"Jack, man, you gotta help me," Frankie pleaded, slamming his hand against the doorframe.
Jack stepped back, his cool eyes taking in Frankie's disheveled appearance. "I told you. I'm out."
"I don't care what you're out of," Frankie spat. "They're gonna kill me."
Jack folded his arms, his voice calm. "Sounds like your problem."
Frankie's hands were shaking, but his voice held a desperate edge. "You still owe me. You know it."
Jack's expression didn't falter. He thought about it for a second, then stepped aside, motioning Frankie inside. "Talk."
---
A Bloody Warning:
Dante's hand slammed down on the table, making the coffee cup rattle. "You're coming with me. Frankie doesn't care if you like it or not."
Jack's stare remained level, unblinking. "Dante never knew when to shut up."
Dante chuckled darkly, cracking his knuckles. "Look, man, this can go two ways-easy or bloody. But trust me, the bloody way is more fun."
