Jake Carter's arms ached beneath the weight of grocery bags, paper handles biting into his palms as he turned the corner toward the little house. Dusk had already pulled its veil across the Street, shadows pooling under the maple trees. He quickened his steps, eager for the comfort of his mother's voice and Annie's boundless chatter.
But the porch wasn't empty. Tyler Matthews leaned against the railing as if it were his throne, a smirk carved across his face. His gang lounged around him, Dawson Rigsby and Gage Ellison snickering low, Walker Grady tossing a lighter from hand to hand.
"Look who's home," Tyler drawled, twirling something bright between his fingers. A silver key caught the porch light.
Jake froze, the groceries digging harder into his skin. "That's mine." His voice cracked before he could steady it.
"Yours?" Tyler tilted his head, green eyes glittering. "No, Carter. This is mine now. Means I own this door. This house. Maybe even the family inside."
"Give it back," Jake whispered. Fear tightened his throat until words scraped like gravel.
Dawson snorted. "Listen to him. Begging already."
Jake took a step forward, knuckles whitening around the bags. "I said, give it back."
The laughter spread like smoke. Gage's shoulders shook; Walker flicked the lighter, flame hissing before vanishing. Tyler didn't laugh. He strolled down from the porch, each step deliberate, his shoes crunching against gravel.
"You still don't get it, do you?" Tyler said softly, stopping inches away. "You don't stand up to me. You never will."
Jake held his ground though his chest hammered. "I'm not afraid of you."
Tyler leaned in, so close Jake caught the sour tang of his breath. "Yes, you are. I can see it in your eyes. Same fear as when I shoved you into the lockers." His grin widened. "Some things never change."
Jake's hands trembled, but he lifted his chin. "You're pathetic."
The word seemed to slice the air. Gage stopped laughing. Dawson muttered, "Oh, he's dead now."
Tyler's jaw twitched. Slowly, he pocketed the key. "You think you've grown a backbone, Carter?"
Jake swallowed hard. "Maybe I have."
"Let's test it."
Before Jake could brace himself, Tyler's fist drove into his stomach with brutal force. The blow knocked the wind from him, and the grocery bags tore open. Apples scattered across the dirt, cans rolled toward the gutter, glass shattered, milk soaking into the gravel like pale blood.
Jake doubled over, gasping, his body folding around the pain, vision blurring. Tyler straightened, smirking down at him.
"Welcome home, Carter," he said coldly.
Jake clutched at the dirt, struggling to breathe, the ruined groceries lying around him like the pieces of his life.
And Tyler drew back his arm for another strike.
Jake crumpled on the porch steps, clutching his stomach, breath ragged. Tyler loomed above him, smug, while Dawson and Gage barked laughter. Walker flicked his lighter open again, the tiny flame snapping in the twilight like a cruel heartbeat.
"Get up, Carter," Tyler sneered, planting a boot against Jake's shoulder. "Show us that backbone again."
Jake groaned, trying to push himself upright. His palms slid over spilled milk and broken glass, stinging his skin. "Leave me alone," he gasped.
"Leave you alone?" Tyler chuckled low, shaking his head. "We're just getting started."
Gage jeered, "Come on, Ty. Hit him again. He deserves it."
Jake tried to crawl toward the door, fingers clawing at the steps, but Tyler grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back like a rag doll.
"Thought you could mouth off?" Tyler spat. "Thought you were more than the little worm we used to break in the halls?"
Jake's lips parted, words torn between pain and fury. "I'm not, yours, to break."
Dawson whistled. "Look at him. Still talking big."
Tyler slammed his fist across Jake's face, splitting his lip. Blood flooded Jake's mouth, warm and metallic. His head reeled, and he heard Annie's voice echo faintly in memory, "Jake, you promised you'd protect us."
"Tyler, enough," Walker muttered, his flame dancing too close to the wooden porch. "He's not worth it."
"Shut up," Tyler snapped. "This is between me and Carter."
As Jake struggled, Tyler's hand slipped into his pocket and came up with the house key. He dangled it in front of Jake's eyes with a mocking grin, then strode to the door, jammed the key into the lock, and twisted it hard until the bolt clicked. "Now they're not going anywhere," he hissed, before shoving the key back into his pocket.
Tyler snatched the lighter from Walker, rifled through the spilled groceries, and yanked out a crumpled sports magazine. He waved it mockingly in Jake's face. "So you're a fan of baseball, huh?" With a cruel smirk, he lit the glossy pages until they curled black and tossed the flaming wad beneath the porch. He then tossed the lighter back to Walker.
Jake staggered on his knees, swaying, vision dim. "Please," he whispered. "My family's inside. Just… go."
But Tyler wasn't listening. His fists rained down again, and every blow sent Jake deeper into the dirt, into the helplessness that clawed his insides raw.
Then Dawson's voice cut the night sharp. "Uh… guys? Look."
Gage turned first. His smirk faltered. Wisps of smoke curled between the porch boards, faint but steady, curling upward like skeletal fingers.
Jake lifted his head, bloodied face twisting. "No…"
Walker cursed, snapping the lighter shut though it was no longer his. "Tyler, the wood's catching. I told you to watch it!"
Tyler froze, gaze darting to the rising smoke. His bravado cracked for the first time, pupils shrinking. He yanked the stolen key from his pocket with trembling fingers and hurled it into the dirt, the metal clattering out of sight.
"Tyler!" Gage barked, backing away. "The porch, it's burning!"
Jake's chest tightened. His eyes shot to the door. Through the windowpane, curtains fluttered in the fire's breath. And in that instant, fear drowned every ounce of pain.
"My mom, Annie!" His voice broke like glass, raw and desperate. He clawed at the steps, dragging himself forward despite the blood and bruises. "They're inside!"
Behind him, the smoke thickened, glowing faintly orange.
The fire was alive.
The smoke swelled, thick and acrid, curling up through the porch as the flames hissed beneath the planks. Jake lunged for the door, bruised fists pounding against it. "Mom! Annie!" His voice tore from his throat, raw and frantic.
The doorknob rattled uselessly. Locked. The sound mocked him. His palm slipped over the brass, blistering hot, and he realized the truth, Tyler had sealed it.
"Jake!" His mother's muffled cry carried through the wood. "What's happening?"
"Mom, hold on!" He slammed his shoulder against the door. The frame shuddered but held firm, the bolt refusing to budge. Panic clawed at his ribs.
From the yard, Dawson swore under his breath. "Tyler, we need to get out of here, man. This is, this is bad."
But Tyler was already backing away, eyes wide, hands shaking as if the fire had crawled inside him. "Shut up. Just shut up!" He spun on his heel and ran, Gage and Walker stumbling after him, their shadows swallowed by the dark.
Jake didn't see them go. His focus tunneled to the door, to the desperate banging of fists from inside. Annie's small voice rose above the chaos, shrill and terrified.
"Jake! It's hot! It's getting hot!"
"No!" His forehead pressed against the wood, tears searing through the soot streaking his face. "Annie, stay back! Stay away from the flames!"
The smoke was choking now, stinging his eyes, coating his lungs. He staggered back, searching for anything, rocks, a loose board, something to break the door down. His hand landed on a broken brick near the steps, slick with ash.
He raised it high and hurled it at the window. Glass shattered, raining shards onto the porch. The sound of his mother's coughs erupted immediately from within.
"Jake!"
He shoved his arm through the jagged frame, ignoring the glass cutting into his skin, blood mixing with soot. He reached blindly, but the fire had already spread to the curtains, flames licking upward in greedy tongues.
For one fleeting second, he thought he felt Annie's tiny hand brush his fingertips, then a blast of heat f
orced him back, the window exploding with flame.
Jake fell onto the porch, screaming her name, while the house roared alive.