Kyle's smile widened. "What do you mean what am I doing here?" His voice dripped with sarcasm. "I said I wanted to talk, and you're literally right here. Perfect timing, don't you think?"
He started clapping slowly, the sound echoing in the quiet street. "I shouldn't have been surprised though. You were with him again. Just like in high school."
His eyes shifted to Liam, and the smile turned sharper.
"But the most surprising thing? My good friend Liam was around and didn't bother letting me know. That breaks my heart, man. Really does."
Clara stepped forward. "Cut the bullshit, Kyle. Liam already told me what you did to him in school. Everything I wasn't aware of."
Kyle laughed, throwing his head back. "Oh, in that case, there's no need to keep pretending I like the dude." He looked directly at Liam now, eyes cold.
"I don't get it, after everything, you still didn't get the memo, did you?" He paused, letting the words hang. "You're a dead."
'Asshole.'
Liam's head dropped. His fists tightened at his sides, knuckles going white.
"I think I need to remind you again," Kyle said calmly, then snapped his fingers.
The two guys moved immediately. One went straight for Liam while the other circled around.
Clara threw herself between them. "Stop!"
One of the guys shoved her aside without even looking at her. She stumbled back, catching herself against the side of her car.
They grabbed Liam's arms, one on each side, locking him in place.
Kyle stepped closer, rolling his shoulder like he was warming up. He pulled his right fist back.
"Heeeyyy! Let that boy go!"
Everyone froze.
Mr. Trent stood on his porch, one hand on the railing. His voice carried across the street, loud and sharp. He started moving down the steps, fast.
Kyle didn't turn around. "It's fine, old man. We're just playing around. Mind your own business."
"Bullshit!" Mr. Trent kept coming, his hands balled into fists. "Let him go now, or I'm calling the cops on you!"
Kyle sighed, then leaned in close to Liam. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Tell the old man we're good. Because if you don't, I'm going to do something we're all gonna regret later. Imagine the death of an innocent on our hands."
He opened his jacket just enough for Liam to see the black grip of a gun tucked into his waistband.
Liam's stomach turned ice cold.
"He's not joking," Liam called out, trying to keep his voice steady. "We're fine. It's fine."
Mr. Trent stopped halfway across the yard. His phone was already in his hand. "You don't need to lie. I can clearly see you're not fine. I'm still calling the cops."
'What the fuck is wrong with this dude?'
Liam's jaw tightened. "Look, I don't know you. I don't care what my mom did for you. This is my business. Stay out of it."
The words landed hard. Mr. Trent's hand froze mid-dial. His face shifted, something between hurt and shock crossing his features. The phone slipped slightly in his grip.
He stood there for a long moment, staring at Liam. Then slowly, he lowered his arm. Turned around. Walked back into his house without another word. The door closed quietly behind him.
Kyle grinned. "Good boy. I missed this playful banter between us."
Liam stared at him, rage boiling under his skin. That word stuck in his head. Playful. Like this was all a game. Like it had always been a game.
And it was true. Kyle had always been the one in control.
Every time Clara wanted to hang out, it was always the three of them. And every single time, Kyle found a way to make it hell. Small comments. Little jabs. Humiliation disguised as jokes. It bled into everything.
Made Liam second-guess every friendship, every conversation. Made him think the worst of people before they even had a chance. The only person who never made him feel like that was Kelvin.
"Alright," Kyle said, stepping back. "Let's go catch up somewhere else, shall we? There's a lot of reminding and catching up to do."
He pointed at one of the guys. "Take him to the car."
Then he looked at the other one. "You drive her car. She follows us. I don't want her talking to me right now."
Clara's eyes went wide. "Kyle, please—"
"Get in the car, Clara."
One of the guys grabbed her arm and pulled her toward her Honda Civic. She looked back at Liam, her face pale, but she didn't fight.
The other guy shoved Liam toward the Range Rover. The back door opened, and he was pushed inside. The guy slid in next to him, blocking any chance of escape.
Kyle got in the driver's seat. The engine roared to life.
They drove in silence. The streets blurred past. Liam tried to keep track of where they were going, but after the third turn, he lost the thread.
Eventually, they pulled off the main road onto a cracked asphalt lot. An old car repair shop sat at the end of it, windows boarded up, the sign hanging crooked and faded. Weeds pushed through the cracks in the pavement. No one had been here in years.
The Range Rover stopped. Kyle killed the engine.
"Out," the guy next to Liam said, shoving him toward the door.
Liam stumbled out onto the asphalt. His legs felt steady, but his mind was racing.
Clara's car pulled up behind them. The other guy got out first, then dragged Clara out by her arm. She looked at Liam, her eyes wide and wet.
"Bring him inside," Kyle said, walking toward the shop's entrance. "And keep her where she can watch."
One of the guys grabbed Liam by the back of his neck and shoved him forward. Liam's feet scraped against the ground as he was forced through the door.
Inside, the place was gutted. Old tools lay scattered across the floor. A broken lift sat in the corner, rusted and tilted. The smell of oil and rot hung in the air.
Kyle stood in the center of the room, hands in his pockets. He looked around like he was inspecting the place, then nodded to himself.
"Hold him," he said.
One guy grabbed Liam's right arm. The other one, still holding Clara, shoved her toward the wall. "Stay there. Watch."
Clara's hands trembled. "Kyle, please. Don't do this."
Kyle ignored her. He walked up to Liam, stopped a foot away, and tilted his head.
"You know what the problem is with you, Liam?" Kyle said quietly. "You never learned your place."
Then he swung.
The first punch hit Liam square in the stomach. The air left his lungs in a rush, and pain shot through his body.
Kyle hit him again, this time in the ribs. Sharp and hot.
"Kyle, stop!" Clara's voice cracked.
Kyle didn't stop. He hit Liam in the face. Liam's head snapped to the side, and he tasted blood.
The pain was everywhere now. His face throbbed. His ribs burned. Kyle pulled his fist back again, winding up for another shot.
Liam jerked his arm, trying to break free. The guy's grip—
It just gave.
Like nothing.
Liam stumbled forward, his arm completely free. He looked at his hand, then at the guy who'd been holding him.
'Wait, what?'
The guy lunged back toward him.
Liam swung without thinking. His fist connected with the guy's jaw. The impact felt wrong, too solid, too heavy. The guy's head snapped to the side and he dropped instantly, hitting the ground like dead weight.
'Holy shit.'
The second guy let go of Clara and rushed forward.
Liam turned and threw another punch. It caught the guy square in the chest.
He flew back.
Actually flew. His body launched through the air and slammed into the old lift with a deafening clang. He crumpled to the ground and didn't move.
Liam stared at his fist.
'How the hell did I just, my hand should be broken right now.'
Kyle pulled the gun from his waistband and aimed it at Liam's chest. His hand was shaking slightly. "I don't know what the hell you just did, but you got lucky. That's all."
Liam looked up at him, then let out a short laugh. Blood dripped from his split lip. "Lucky? That what you're calling it?" He took a step forward. "You scared of me now, Kyle?"
Kyle's jaw tightened. "Scared? Of you?" He laughed, but it sounded forced. "You think one lucky punch changes anything?"
"Then put the gun down," Liam said, his voice steady. "Prove it."
Kyle stared at him for a long moment. Then he smirked. "You want it that bad?"
He tucked the gun back into his waistband and stepped forward, fists raised. "Alright. Let's see what you got."
Kyle moved first. Fast. A jab aimed straight at Liam's face.
Liam swung back, but Kyle ducked under it easily. Another jab caught Liam in the ribs. Then another in the shoulder.
'He's good.'
Liam threw another punch. Missed. Kyle sidestepped and landed a clean hit to Liam's jaw. Pain exploded across his face.
Kyle kept moving, circling him, landing jabs that stung but didn't stop him. "This what you wanted? You thought you could actually..."
'Screw this.'
Liam rushed him. No technique, just momentum. He slammed into Kyle, and they both went down hard, crashing onto the concrete floor.
Kyle tried to block, throwing his arms up. Liam swung down. His fist connected with Kyle's forearm.
The bone cracked.
Kyle screamed. "Fuck! Stop—"
Liam didn't stop. He swung again. This time his fist caught Kyle in the ribs. Another crack. Kyle's whole body seized up, his face going white.
"Please..." Kyle's voice broke. "Please, you won. You won, man. Stop."
Liam pulled his fist back again. "No."
He brought it down. Once. Twice. Both punches landed clean on Kyle's face. Blood splattered across the concrete. Kyle's head lolled to the side, his breathing ragged.
Liam held back on the third. Just enough. He could feel it. If he hit him again like that, Kyle might probably die.
He stood, chest heaving, blood dripping from his knuckles.
Clara stood frozen against the wall, her hands covering her mouth.
Liam looked down at Kyle, broken and bleeding on the floor.
Clara came over to him, her hands trembling as she gently touched his face, turning it to check the damage. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Liam said, stepping back. "Let's go."
"Okay," Clara said quietly.
They moved toward the door, stepping over one of the unconscious guys. Liam glanced at him briefly, still breathing, just out cold. The other one by the lift hadn't moved either.
"I'm... going to get you for this."
They both stopped.
Kyle's voice came out wet and strained. He coughed, blood spilling from his mouth. "And I still... have my hooks in her." His words were slurred, desperate.
"You saw her face... when she saw me. She's still... scared of me."
Liam turned his head slightly, not fully looking back. His jaw tightened.
Clara's hand gripped his arm. "Don't. Let's just go."
But Liam spoke anyway, his voice cold. "Trust me, you should see her face before she sucks my cock. Way better."
Clara froze. Her grip on his arm loosened, and she stared at him for a second, something between shock and anger flashing across her face. Then she shoved his shoulder. Hard.
"Let's go. Now."
She walked past him, heading straight for the door.
Liam followed without another word.
Outside, the evening air hit them.
The sun hung low on the horizon, that deep orange glow that said it could drop any minute.
Clara's car sat in the cracked lot, her Honda Civic parked just behind it.
She unlocked the doors, but Liam didn't get in right away. He looked up at the dimming sky, then back at her.
"It's getting late," he said. "Just drop me at the hospital and head home."
Clara stood by the driver's door, her hand still on the handle. "I'm not just dropping you off and leaving, Liam."
"You should. You've been through enough today."
"So have you." Her voice was firm. "I'm staying until we're allowed to see your mom. We can argue about it in the car."
She got in and started the engine.
Liam exhaled, then climbed into the passenger seat.