CALIX'S POV
The party was too loud.
That was the first sign.
Not the good kind of loud—the kind that wraps itself around you like a lie. Bass pounding hard enough to vibrate through bone, laughter spilling too freely, people moving without awareness. Noise designed to drown out instinct.
I hated it instantly.
When I spotted Jay near the pool, something in my gut twisted sharp and sudden. Not admiration. Not jealousy.
Instinct.
She stood out without trying—still, composed, like a blade resting on silk. But tonight, something was wrong. The way her shoulders were set. The way her gaze drifted instead of cutting.
She didn't belong here—not because she didn't fit, but because places like this fracture when she enters. Chaos follows her like a consequence.
Mica felt it too. She leaned in close, voice barely audible under the music.
"She's with Kiko," she said. "Why is she with him?"
I followed her line of sight.
Kiko's hand hovered too near Jay's waist. His smile was practiced—wide, confident, entitled. The kind of man who mistook proximity for ownership.
Jay's posture was controlled. Perfect. But her eyes—
Distant.
Unfocused.
Not assessing exits. Not counting people. Not sharp.
That scared me more than if she'd looked angry.
Jay was never unaware. Ever.
I scanned the crowd again.
Felix.
Nowhere.
My jaw tightened.
I checked my watch. Then my phone. Then the exits.
Ten minutes passed.
No Jay.
No Felix.
The air shifted then—subtle, almost imperceptible. Like the moment before a storm breaks, when your body knows before your brain catches up.
This wasn't a party.
This was a setup.
My fingers felt cold as I pulled out my phone. I didn't scroll. Didn't hesitate.
I typed one name.
A name you don't use unless you're ready to tear the night open.
> Keifer
I'm at a section a party with mica I spottee Jay 20 min ago but now I can't find her and felix...
One message.
No dramatics. No explanations.
Just the truth.
And as I hit send, I realized something terrifying.
I wasn't praying Jay was okay.
I was praying Keifer would arrive in time.
---
KEIFER'S POV —
When Calix's message came in, the world narrowed to a single point.
Jay.Missing.Section A.
Three words.
Enough to rewrite the night.
I didn't react immediately. I stood up slowly, deliberately—like every movement was already mapped out in my head.
The room changed with me.
David stopped mid-sentence. Yuri's hand closed around his jacket without looking. Cin's grin faded, replaced by something flat and dangerous.
They felt it.
This wasn't panic.
This was protocol.
"This isn't a rescue," I said quietly.
No one argued.
"This is retrieval."
We moved.
Cars started without doors slamming. Engines low, controlled. No unnecessary noise.
Silence filled the drive—not empty, but heavy. The kind that carries decisions already made. No one asked what we'd do when we got there.
They already knew.
When we arrived, the bass hit first—vibrating through the pavement like a heartbeat that didn't belong to us.
Music loud enough to excuse anything.
Lights flashing. People drunk on celebration and ignorance.
A lie dressed as a party.
I scanned once.
No Jay.
Again.
Nothing.
Then I saw Felix.
On the ground.
Blood dark against pale skin. One eye swelling shut. Chest rising, shallow but alive.
Something inside me went still.
Not rage.
Precision.
Every sound sharpened. Every movement slowed.
"Lock it down," I said calmly.
Section E moved instantly.
Exits blocked. Doors shut. The illusion shattered.
People realized too late that this wasn't their night anymore.
Someone tried to run.
Yuri took his knee out without breaking stride.
Another screamed.
David broke his arm and kept walking.
Bones snapped. Joints folded. Screams finally cut through the music, ugly and real.
I walked through it all.
Unhurried.
Then I saw Mykel.
Laughing.
Actually laughing—nervous, breathless, like a fool who thought chaos was entertainment.
He didn't see me until my shadow hit him.
I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground.
His feet kicked uselessly.
"WHERE. THE .FUCK" I asked softly, "IS.SHE."
His hands clawed at my wrist. His face turned purple.
I tightened my grip.
"Last chance."
He sobbed then. Pathetic.
"K-Kiko," he choked. "One of the rooms—upstairs—"
I dropped him.
He hit the floor gasping.
I didn't look back.
Doors flew open.
People screamed.
Someone begged. Someone cried. Someone prayed.
Didn't matter.
Then—
The crash came from the end of the corridor.
Wood splintering. A door giving way under force that had stopped caring about restraint.
Keifer broke into a run.
So did Yuri.
They rounded the corner just in time to see Kiko slammed against the wall hard enough to rattle the frames. His body folded with a sickening sound as Aries drove his fist into his ribs—once, twice—each strike fueled by something feral and unfiltered.
"You don't touch her," Aries snarled.
Kiko barely had time to lift his arms before Aries grabbed him by the collar and hurled him across the room. He hit the floor and slid, gasping, scrambling like a cornered animal.
Aries followed.
Boot to the stomach.
Kiko screamed.
"That's my cousin," Aries shouted, voice breaking through the music still bleeding in faintly from outside. "You don't even LOOK at her."
Kiko tried to speak.
Aries didn't let him.
His fist connected with Kiko's jaw—hard enough that teeth cut lip, blood spraying across the floor. Kiko collapsed again, coughing, hands shaking as he tried to crawl backward.
"Aries," Yuri barked, grabbing his arm mid-swing.
Aries ripped free, chest heaving, eyes wild.
"She trusted this place," Aries said hoarsely. "She walked in here breathing. Conscious. You don't get to walk away."
Keifer stepped past them.
Didn't say a word.
Didn't need to.
The look on his face made Aries stop.
Not because the anger faded—but because something colder had taken over.
---
Jay lay on the floor near the bed.
Still.
Too still.
Her hair was loose around her face, her breathing uneven. Her clothes were disordered—not torn, not indecent—but clearly disturbed, like someone had handled her without permission.
Like a boundary had been crossed.
Keifer was on his knees beside her in seconds.
Careful. Controlled. Every movement deliberate.
He checked her pulse. Strong, but fast. Too fast.
Her skin was warm. Too warm.
"She's burning up," Yuri said quietly.
Aries swore under his breath and turned away, punching the wall hard enough to crack plaster.
"She doesn't wake up like this," Aries said from the doorway, voice thick. "She hates being… not in control.You need to take her with you because I don't know how to tell her anything after she wakes up.. "
Keifer slid an arm beneath her shoulders and lifted her as if she weighed nothing.
As if the world owed him silence while he did.
Jay didn't wake.
Her head rested against his chest, lips parted slightly as her breath stuttered in and out.
"She's coming with me," Keifer said.
It wasn't a suggestion.Then he picked her up and took her to his house...
---
KEIFER'S HOUSE —
The room was dark when he laid her down.
His room.
Neutral. Safe. Controlled.
He eased her onto the bed, adjusting her position carefully, making sure she was stable, breathing, supported. He removed her shoes, loosened anything restrictive—not out of intimacy, but necessity.
Her top had come loose during everything—buttons uneven, fabric shifted in a way that spoke of chaos, not exposure.
Keifer's jaw tightened.
He fixed it without looking longer than necessary.
Covered her with a blanket.
Protected.
He sat beside the bed, one hand resting near hers—not touching, just close enough that if she moved, she wouldn't be alone.
Yuri broke the silence.
"Kiko?"
Keifer didn't look up.
"He breathes because I allow it," he said quietly. "For now."
The room felt heavier after that.
Jay stirred slightly, a faint sound escaping her throat—a breath, a whisper of discomfort—but she didn't wake.
Keifer leaned closer, voice low and steady.
"You're safe," he said, even if she couldn't hear it. "No one touches you again."
Outside, the city kept moving.
Inside that room, something fundamental had shifted.
This wasn't just retaliation.
It was a line drawn in blood and consequence.
And whoever had crossed it—
Would learn what it meant to touch something that was never theirs to begin with...
Later that night....
The warehouse smelled like rust, oil, and fear.
Fear always had a smell. People thought it was invisible—but it wasn't. It clung to walls. To skin. To the air right before someone understood they were no longer in control.
Kiko was tied to a chair in the center of the room.
Not because he needed to be.
Because I wanted him still.
The lights overhead flickered once, then steadied. Concrete floor. No windows. No exits he could reach. Section E stood spread out in silence—no jokes, no chatter, no adrenaline-fueled bravado.
This wasn't a brawl.
This was judgment.
I stepped forward slowly, rolling my sleeves up once, deliberately. Every movement measured. Calm. The kind of calm that terrifies people more than shouting ever could.
Kiko lifted his head when he saw me.
His face was already swollen from Aries. Blood dried at the corner of his mouth. One eye barely open.
He tried to speak.
I raised a hand.
Silence.
"You don't get to talk," I said quietly. "You forfeited that when you touched something that was never yours."
His breathing hitched.
I crouched in front of him so we were eye level.
"You thought she was drunk," I continued. "Or distracted. Or alone."
I tilted my head slightly. "You thought wrong."
I stood and stepped back.
That was the signal.
David went first.
A single, brutal punch to the ribs—controlled, precise. Not enough to knock him out. Enough to teach.
Kiko screamed.
Felix followed—jaw clenched, eyes hollow. He didn't say a word. Just drove his fist into Kiko's stomach until the scream broke into choking gasps.
Cin didn't smile. Didn't hesitate. He kicked the chair back so Kiko crashed to the floor still tied, then knelt and slammed his elbow into Kiko's shoulder.
A crack echoed.
Kiko howled.
"Don't stop," I said calmly.
Yuri went next. Then Calix. Then Eman.
Each hit wasn't rage.
It was intent.
Punishment passed hand to hand like a ritual.
Kiko begged somewhere between the fourth and fifth person.
"I didn't—please—I swear—"
I walked forward again.
They stopped instantly.
I crouched once more, my shadow swallowing his.
"You drugged her," I said softly. "You cornered her. You tried to move her when she couldn't stand."
I leaned closer.
"If she had woken up in that room without knowing how she got there," I continued, voice low and lethal, "you wouldn't be breathing right now."
Tears streamed down his face.
I straightened.
"Finish it."
They did.
By the time it ended, Kiko wasn't screaming anymore.
He wasn't begging.
He wasn't conscious.
We didn't kill him.
That was never the point.
We left him outside a hospital just before dawn—alive, broken, and very aware, when he woke up, that he had survived only because someone else decided he should.
Consequences hurt more when you remember them.
---
KEIFER'S HOUSE — LATER
The house was quiet when I got back.
Too quiet.
I moved through it without turning on lights. I didn't need them. I'd walked these halls a thousand times. Tonight, every step felt heavier.
My room door was half open.
Jay was still asleep.
Right where I'd left her.
The sight hit me harder than anything at the warehouse.
She lay on her side, blanket pulled up to her shoulders. Hair spread across my pillow like she'd always belonged there. Her breathing was steadier now—but still shallow.
Still vulnerable.
I sat on the edge of the bed slowly, like sudden movement might fracture something already fragile.
My fingers hovered.
Then gently—carefully—I brushed her hair back from her face.
Her skin was warm. Not feverish anymore. Just alive.
Good.
I exhaled for the first time since this night began.
Her lips moved.
A sound—soft, barely there.
"…Keifer…"
My name.
Murmured like instinct.
Like safety.
Something in my chest tightened violently.
I leaned closer, voice low, steady, controlled.
"I'm here," I said. "You're safe."
She didn't wake. Just shifted slightly, her body angling closer, as if it knew where solid ground was even in sleep.
I didn't touch her again.
Didn't need to.
I lay down beside her—not holding, not crowding. Just close enough that if she reached out, she wouldn't find emptiness.
Close enough that if nightmares came, they'd meet me first.
My hand rested on the mattress near hers.
Guarding.
Waiting.
Whoever thought my Jay was an easy target—
Whoever thought touching her was a risk worth taking—
Had learned something permanent tonight.
And if they hadn't?
I'd make sure they did.
Because some lines aren't crossed.
And some people?
Are protected.
No matter the cost...