The rain still hadn’t stopped when the black car sped down the empty road.
The rhythmic scraping of the wipers against the windshield might have been soothing to some, but for Braddy that night, it sounded like a countdown to disaster.
Jackson sat in the driver’s seat, his eyes sharp and fixed on the road.
Jay beside him was busy checking messages on his phone.
Reggy sat in the back, staring blankly out the window.
Braddy sat next to him, silent, lost in his own thoughts.
“According to Theresia, the kid might’ve run toward the northern part of the city,” Jay said without looking up.
“There’s an old workshop in the Pelataran 9 area. His foster father used to work there.”
Jackson gave a slight nod as the headlights cut through the curtain of rain.
“We’ll start there.”
Braddy leaned back, staring at his reflection in the glass.
His face looked pale, his eyes red from lack of sleep.
Every time he blinked, he saw Felix’s face again—terrified, soaked, and desperate.
Then he remembered Theresia, crying, begging for her child not to be hurt.
*What are we really doing?* Braddy thought bitterly.
*Since when did I become like them?*
All this time, he had devoted himself to automotive work—cars and motorcycles.
A hobby he loved.
A blend of technology and art.
There was no violence.
No hatred.
Everything was filled with passion.
Love for the craft.
Love for his friends and his circle.
Now he had fallen into a dark world filled with violence without even realizing it.
The car turned into a narrower road.
Trees on both sides swayed violently in the wind.
The rain poured even harder, as if trying to erase the traces of anyone who dared to move beneath it.
After twenty minutes, they arrived in front of an old workshop.
Its neon light flickered, half the letters on its sign long gone with time.
Thunder roared across the sky.
Jackson turned off the engine.
“We go in quietly. No noise.”
They stepped out one by one.
Puddles on the ground reflected the car’s headlights.
Braddy walked last, taking a deep breath before crossing the slippery gravel yard.
Inside the workshop, the air was damp and smelled of oil.
Shadows of heavy tools hung on the walls, swaying slightly whenever wind slipped through gaps in the leaking roof.
Water dripped steadily from a broken pipe above.
“Felix!” Jackson called softly, his voice echoing.
“You here?”
No answer—only the sound of rain outside and water trickling into a rusted drum.
Jay checked each room, while Reggy opened the back door.
Empty.
“No one’s here,” Jay said quietly.
“Looks like he hasn’t made it yet.”
Jackson glanced at his watch.
“We can’t wait long. If he’s looking for help, he’ll go to someone he trusts. We need to find out who that is.”
Braddy approached a dusty workbench, noticing an old photo still pinned to a wooden board.
It showed an elderly man smiling with two teenagers—one of them Felix.
In the corner, a name was written: *“Leonardo, 2019.”*
“Leo…” Braddy muttered.
“I’ve heard that name from Christine.”
Jackson turned quickly.
“Who is he?”
“A friend of his father.
Used to work with Theresia when they lived in the southern part of the city.
He’s known for helping street kids.”
Jay added, “If Felix was close to him, he might’ve gone there.”
Jackson thought for a moment, then said quietly, “Alright.
We go to Leonardo’s house.
But if the kid is there, don’t hesitate to act.
Celestine won’t give us a second chance.”
Braddy shot him a sharp look.
“Don’t hesitate? What do you mean, Jack?”
Jackson met his gaze coldly.
“I mean don’t let him open his mouth. بأي means necessary.”
Silence fell.
Jay and Reggy avoided Braddy’s eyes.
The rain hammered harder against the metal roof.
Finally, Braddy spoke.
“We go. But if I say stop, you stop. Understood?”
Jackson snorted but gave a short nod.
“You’re in charge tonight, Braddy. Show us you still have control.”
They returned to the car.
The drive to Leonardo’s house took nearly half an hour.
The city had grown quiet; streetlights flickered, shops were closed.
At some turns, water pooled up to the wheels.
Reggy broke the silence.
“You sure Felix would go there?”
“If he’s panicking, he’ll go to someone he trusts,” Jay replied.
“And Leonardo seems like the only one.”
Jackson lit a cigarette, staring ahead without speaking.
The ember reflected in the glass, making his eyes look like burning coals in the dark.
Braddy looked at his phone.
The last message from Celestine was still open:
*“If that boy escapes, I will place all the blame on your shoulders.”*
He typed something, then erased it.
No words were enough to explain the chaos inside him.
Every second felt like a test between loyalty and conscience.
And that night, he began to realize—those two could not walk side by side.
When the car stopped in front of Leonardo’s house, it was already past eleven.
The house was small but well-kept, with a grassy yard and a mango tree in front.
The lights inside were still on.
Jackson raised a finger to his lips: silence.
They moved closer.
Rain dripped from the tin roof onto their shoulders.
Through the window, two figures could be seen—one standing, one sitting.
Braddy recognized one of them.
Felix.
“He’s there,” Reggy whispered.
Jackson pulled a pistol from inside his jacket.
“I’ll go through the back. Reggy, right side. Jay, watch the road. Braddy, you’re with me.”
Braddy held his breath.
He knew Jackson would use violence.
Before they moved, Braddy grabbed Jackson’s arm.
“If we can talk this out, no shooting. I’ll handle it.”
Jackson stared at him, then shoved his hand away.
“We’ll see.”
They crept along the side of the house.
The rain masked their footsteps.
From the kitchen window, Jackson peeked inside—a small room with a wooden table, walls lined with tools, and an old man standing in front of Felix.
Leonardo was trying to calm him.
“Easy, son. If they’re really dangerous, we’ll call the police.”
Felix shook his head violently.
“No! The police can’t be trusted. Peter’s family has people everywhere. They’ll come here.”
As if the universe answered him, the back door creaked open.
Leonardo turned.
“Who’s there?”
Jackson entered first, gun raised.
Braddy followed behind him, empty-handed.
“Don’t move!” Jackson barked.
Felix screamed, and Leonardo shielded him.
“For God’s sake, what do you want from this boy?” Leonardo shouted.
“He’s innocent!”
Jackson aimed his gun at him.
“Step aside.
This is none of your business.”
“Enough, Jack!” Braddy pushed the gun down.
“I said I’ll talk!”
Jackson glared at him but lowered the weapon slightly.
Braddy stepped forward, looking at Felix.
“I don’t want to hurt you. But you need to come with us. We just want to make sure you don’t do anything reckless.”
Felix stared at him with red eyes.
“You think I trust you? I saw what you did to my mother. You’re all lapdogs of the Terano Family!”
Braddy froze.
The words hit like a slap.
Leonardo looked at him closely.
“Son… I can see it in your eyes. You’re not like them. If you still have a heart, let him go.”
Braddy exhaled heavily.
“I can’t.”
“Then,” Leonardo said quietly, “you’re already dead, young man.”
Before Braddy could respond, the front door burst open.
Jay rushed in, gun in hand.
“Braddy! Cars coming from the north!”
Everyone turned.
Through the window, two unmarked cars stopped outside.
Several men stepped out, dressed in black and armed.
Jackson whispered sharply, “Whose men are those? Damn it—what do they want? Whose side are they on?”
Braddy stared outside, then at Felix and Leonardo, who now looked terrified.
“I don’t know if they’re after me or you,” he said bitterly.
“But they’re not mine. And it looks like they’re here to wipe us all out.”
Jay looked tense.
“What do we do now?”
Braddy looked at Jackson—and for the first time that night, his eyes were filled with certainty.
“We protect them,” he said firmly.
“If those men want blood, they won’t get it from here.”
“Could they be Celestine’s men?” Jackson prepared himself.
Jay’s eyes widened.
“Are you insane?!
If they are and we fight back, he’ll—”
“It’s too late, Jay,” Braddy cut him off.
“He already thinks we’ve failed. Now the only thing left is to survive.”
Jay looked outside again.
“If they’re Celestine’s men… how could he want to kill you? His own son?”
Braddy took a deep breath.
“I don’t know whose men they are—or who their target is. Turn off the lights. Close the windows. We fight from inside.”
The rain grew heavier, thunder cracking nearby.
In an instant, the small house became a final fortress for those trapped between loyalty and truth.
And for the first time in a long while, Braddy felt alive—because that night, he finally chose something not for Celestine… but for his own conscience.
“Bang! Bang!”
Gunshots suddenly rang out.