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My thoughts drifted to Justice, her smile, her fierce spirit. God, I loved her so much it hurt sometimes. But seeing her with Bash—happy and in love—it eased the pain somehow. They were good together. They deserved each other. I was a little jealous, sure...but mostly I was just happy for them.
Maybe I was fooling myself, but I had to believe that was true.
I wanted her to be happy.
And if Bash made her happy, so be it.
Sunlight streamed through the skyscrapers, casting long shadows on the pavement as I followed the familiar paths I had navigated thousands of times. Running was my therapy, my escape from intrusive thoughts that threatened to overwhelm me in quiet moments. It was my way of reminding myself that I was alive and in control of my destiny.
The entire Miami skyline seemed to glisten, winking at me under the sunlight like a well-kept secret. Yet beneath its glamour, I knew the city held dark corners that were anything but picturesque. It was a city of contrast–dazzling beauty blanketing a rotten core.
This was where I’d grown up.
Where my family had settled after leaving Pakistan.
Where I’d been trafficked, hooked on drugs, and…
I looked around, trying to shake off those dark thoughts and focus on the road. I needed to relax, to let myself move and forget about my past.
But that’s when I saw the van.
And it reminded me that there was no escape.
I hadn't paid a lot of attention to it, but before I had rounded the corner, I was almost entirely sure that the people in the van had been watching me. My heart pounded in my chest as adrenaline rushed through my veins. I didn't want to overthink, but the scenario was too much of a coincidence considering what had happened in the past few days. Slowly, I started to take steps back, not breaking my gaze from the van.
I wasn’t that kid anymore.
No one could hurt me like this.
Right?
Suddenly, it revved up and darted towards me, leaving a cloud of dust behind. Panic took over me and I started running for my life. The memories of getting kidnapped and tortured flooded back.
Not again, I told myself.
I turned towards an alley but found myself at a dead end. The van screeched to a halt, blocking my only way out. The back doors flung open and out stepped two masked men. They didn't say anything; they didn't have to. Their intentions were clear.
The closer one charged at me as I braced myself for impact. Using his momentum against him, I sidestepped and landed a punch square on his jaw, sending him crashing back into the van. But his companion was already on me, a flash of silver catching my eye as he swung.
I barely managed to dodge the knife, feeling the rush of air as it swished past my face. My heart pounded in my chest as I launched myself at the second man, gripping his wrist and twisting sharply. The knife clattered onto the pavement, but my relief was short-lived as he landed a punch on my side.
Pain shot through me, but I refused to let it show. With a grunt, I rammed my elbow into his gut and followed up with a knee to his face. He crumpled beside his companion, and I took a moment to catch my breath.
But the respite was fleeting. The sound of a third man exiting the van filled the alleyway and, before I could react, something hard slammed against the back of my head. My vision blurred as pain radiated from the point of impact, drawing a strangled groan from my lips.
Seriously?
Why did it always have to be me?
I fell to my knees, struggling to stay conscious. The world spun around me as I clutched the side of a dumpster for support, willing myself not to pass out. From the corner of my eye, I saw the third man tower over me, a silhouette against the glaring sun, a steel pipe gleaming in his hand.
I ducked and rolled, finding the cool handle of the blade in my hand. I knew I had to fight back.
Despite the constant throbbing in my head and the taste of something metallic in my mouth, I staggered to my feet, wielding the knife defensively. The man seemed unfazed; instead, he laughed, his deep voice echoing eerily within the alley.
"Little boy thinks he can take me on," he sneered, twirling the pipe in his hand.
My adrenaline spiked as I lunged forward with a sharp cry, slashing at him with the knife. He parried my attack with his pipe, sparks flying from the metal meeting metal. I barely had time to react before he swung at me again.
