Captive

chapter 55

Fragile hope

Jeff stumbled into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence was suffocating, the walls seeming to close in with every breath. His shoes left faint, bloody prints on the floor, a trail he didn't have the energy to clean. The weight of the dried blood on his clothes clung to his skin like a curse.

He leaned back against the door, his legs trembling until they finally gave out. He slid to the floor, his arms draped over his knees, head hanging low.

The memories crashed over him—the sound of screeching tires, the sharp smell of blood, Bible’s body crumpled and still. The fear of losing him forever gnawed at his insides.

“What have I done?” Jeff whispered, his voice breaking.

His eyes burned, but the tears refused to fall. He clenched his fists, fingernails biting into his palms, the pain barely registering. The copper scent of Bible's blood still lingered, a cruel reminder of everything spiraling out of control.

He pulled off his shirt, the fabric stiff with dried blood, and tossed it aside. It landed with a sickening thud. The sight of his own hands, stained and trembling, made his stomach churn. He rushed to the sink, the cold water blasting his skin as he scrubbed furiously. The red swirled down the drain, but no matter how hard he scrubbed, the guilt didn’t wash away.

The mirror above the sink caught his reflection—haunted eyes, hollow cheeks, and exhaustion etched into every line of his face. He didn’t recognize himself anymore.

His knees buckled. He gripped the edge of the sink, his knuckles white. “You should have left him alone,” he muttered to his reflection. “You only ruin everything you touch.”

The apartment was too quiet, too empty. The silence screamed louder than his thoughts. He sank onto the edge of the bed, his gaze drifting to the clock on the wall. Time crawled forward, indifferent to his pain.

A knock at the door broke the stillness. Jeff’s heart lurched, hope flickering for just a second before reality crashed back in. He dragged himself up, each step like wading through concrete. He opened the door slowly.

there stood Mile with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. His brother’s expression was unreadable, eyes hard yet tinged with worry.

“I heard what happened,” Mile said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.  “You look like hell.”

Jeff didn’t respond, just shut the door and leaned against it, exhausted. The room was dim, the silence stifling.

“I’m flying out to the U.S. tonight,” Mile continued, his voice tight. “I came to talk to you before I leave. You need to get your shit together, Jeff.”

Jeff let out a bitter laugh. “My shit together? Really? My parents are in jail. Our family name is ruined. My best friend is dead. And Bible…” His voice cracked, the image of Bible’s unconscious body flashing before his eyes. “What’s left to get together?”

Mile clenched his jaw. “You can’t stay here drowning in this mess. Come with me. Leave it all behind.”

Jeff shook his head, eyes glistening with pain. “I can’t.”

“Because of him?” Mile’s voice sharpened. “Because of Bible? After everything?”

Jeff looked away, his fingers trembling. “You don’t understand.”

Mile scoffed, frustration simmering beneath the surface. “I understand just fine. You’re clinging to a guy whose family destroyed ours. And now you’re drowning because of it.”