Travis' POV
The final bell rang, and just like that, another pointless day of school was over. I headed toward the locker room to change, but my phone started buzzing in my pocket. I checked the screen: Minho.
"Yo?" I answered.
("Come pick us up.") Minho's voice was low, irritated.
"Aight. Just text me the address." I replied.
("Well hurry-")
I ended the call before he could finish and pulled on my gray joggers and hoodie. If he was about to start whining, I wasn't having it. As usual, he was probably neck-deep in his own mess.
After tossing my school bag in the trunk, I jumped into my black Lexus LFA and started the engine. The rumble calmed me, just a little. It took a few minutes to exit the secured part of the dorm's parking lot—my car was parked away from the others, per request. I didn't trust anyone touching my baby.
While driving, my mind wandered. I wondered if Elise was okay. She was probably back at the dorm by now. Alone. Hopefully, she had enough sense not to cause trouble—though knowing her lately, that was unlikely.
I shook my head and turned my attention back to the road.
It took about thirty minutes before I pulled up to the address Minho sent. A sketchy part of town, right by an alleyway that smelled like rust and smoke. Classy.
They were all waiting outside—Minho, Ryan, Twan, and James—huddled in a small circle. But instead of getting into the car, they were arguing about something.
I rolled my eyes, killed the engine, and got out. "Hey, I don't have all night—". I was shushed by Ryan, he pointed at Minho who was in a call with someone. Ryan held a finger to his lips and nodded at Minho, who was mid-call.
"It's been three hours and you guys still aren't here. You think this is funny? We have your money. If one of you doesn't come pick it up, we're leaving," said the voice over the phone—low, gravelly, dangerous.
("Hold your horses. We're just doing some research.")
"What research?" Minho snapped, but the call ended.
I frowned. "What the hell's going on?"
James glanced at me. "Same as always."
"Gokudo?" I asked.
Minho nodded. "Yeah."
My stomach twisted. These were the same bastards our dads crossed years ago—the ones they told us to never mess with. When we got involved with them last year during that shady bet thing with... an ex friend of ours, I warned our group. But no, of course they didn't listen.
Our parents, rich and powerful as they were—refused to bail us out. Said it was time we learned to clean up our own mess. So here we were. Owing money to a gang.
"So what now?" I asked, tightening my hoodie strings. "We just wait? Again?"
"We already waited three hours. If they wanted to come, they would've," Minho grumbled.
"Meaning they're scared?"
"They're a fucking gang, not schoolboys. They could kill us if they wanted."
"Well, then let's go home," I snapped.
"They'll find us anyway," James muttered.
"This is so stupid—" I was cut off.
"If you're so smart, you got a better idea?" Minho asked with a raised brow.
"No," I admitted.
"Exactly." He lit a cigarette, the tip glowing red in the dark. "I swear, for someone who reads all the time, you're as dumb as I am."
I clenched my fists and stepped toward him. "What did you say, cunt?"
"What did you just call me?" Minho straightened.
"Yah! Both of you—shut it," Twan interrupted, stepping between us.
Ryan nodded. "Let's just wait a few more minutes. If nothing happens, we go."
We all fell silent, leaning against the car or Ryan's car (Nissan Skyline).
...
An hour later, we were ready to leave. I was just about to unlock the doors when Minho's phone buzzed again.
"Put it on speaker," I ordered.
Minho sighed and answered.
("Actually... no need to come.") The voice was mocking now. Smug.
"Put it on speakers" I said.
("You can keep the money. I'll keep the girl instead.")
"What?" I said, confused.
And then, before the call dropped, we heard it; a scream. All of us froze.
"The fuck was that?" James muttered.
"Probably one of your chicks," Ryan said, but even he didn't sound convinced.
"The scream..." Twan said slowly. "It sounded like Elise." All five of us went pale.
"DRIVE!" Ryan shouted.
I didn't wait. I floored the accelerator, tires screeching against the pavement. Twan was with me, my car is only a two seater so the rest of the boys rode with Ryan.
...
...
...
We reached the dorm in 20 minutes flat. The place was dead silent until we kicked the door open. That's when we saw him—Roy Satou, son of the Gokudo's leader.
He stood in the living room, gripping Elise by the hair, dragging her upright while she knelt on the floor. Blood ran down her face. Her hands were tied behind her back.
"You're just in time," Roy grinned, eyes wild. "Look, she put up quite a fight. But I'll play nice if you just do what I say." He raised a gun toward us. None of us moved. Roy tilted his head. "Where's the fifth one? The little one?"
"Behind you, yaro," came Twan's voice.
Roy didn't even turn fast enough. Twan crashed a wooden bat into the back of his skull. Blood sprayed. Elise fell from his grip, gasping.
"Watch out!" Elise screamed just before two more gang members lunged at us. Everything became a blur—fists flying, shouts echoing across the room. Minho tackled Roy. They fought like animals in the corner, blood and sweat everywhere. Minho finally pinned Roy against the wall.
"We have your damn money!" he roared. "Take it and leave!"
Roy just smiled, blood coating his teeth. "I said... I want the girl." He pulled out a knife and stabbed Minho in the leg.
"SHIT!" Minho dropped.
Roy bolted through the back door. His men followed—one tried to grab Elise again, but I decked him so hard he crumpled. The others ran after Roy, grabbing the duffel bag of money on their way out. I gave chase, but they vanished into the night.
I returned to the house, heart pounding. James and Ryan were checking the windows. Twan was helping Minho, who was groaning, clutching his bloody leg. But my eyes locked on Elise, who hadn't moved from the floor. She was breathing. Her head was still bleeding.
I knelt down beside her. "Elise...?"
Her lips parted, barely forming a whisper.
"...Travis?"