Manhunt(5)

e sky hung heavy with thick clouds, a dull gray stretching endlessly above the park. There was no sunlight, no warmth—just the weight of an impending storm.

Luke leaned against a tree, flipping his lighter open and shut absentmindedly. The metallic click was the only sound between him and Henry for a while. Then he grinned.

"Even the weather's with us," Luke mused. "This kinda sky? Perfect for hunting a fucker like Liam."

Henry, arms crossed, gave him a sideways glance. "You talk like you're in a movie."

Luke smirked. "And you don't?"

Henry shook his head. "What're you gonna do when we catch him?"

Luke flicked the lighter shut. "What're you gonna do? Boss first."

Henry chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "I'll break his arms first. Then maybe one of his fingers, or take an eye. Something that'll make him wish he was dead."

Luke tilted his head slightly. "Still thinking like a child, huh?"

Henry's expression darkened. "Excuse me?"

"You wanna torture him. Drag it out." Luke's voice dropped to something more sinister, his grin widening, showing teeth. "I'm just gonna kill him. Like how I killed that girl of his. "

His tone was casual, almost lazy, but the look in his eyes wasn't. It was the kind of expression that made even Henry, for all his own cruelty, hesitate. There was no bluffing in Luke's voice. No exaggeration. Just cold, matter-of-fact intent.

Henry exhaled sharply. He was about to say something when one of their guys came sprinting toward them, nearly out of breath.

Henry turned. "What happened?"

The guy bent over, panting. "I think we found him."

Luke perked up instantly, eyes lighting up with excitement. "Oh? Where?"

"We haven't seen him directly, but we know where he's hiding."

Henry narrowed his eyes. "Talk."

"Maiya Patel's café," the guy said. "Two of our men went in to check the place, but they haven't reported back since."

Henry frowned. "That could mean a lot of things. Maybe they ditched."

The guy shook his head. "They might not be strong, but they're loyal. They wouldn't just bail. If they haven't responded, it's because they *can't*."

Henry exchanged a glance with Luke.

Luke stretched his arms lazily, cracking his neck. "Well then, what're we waiting for?"

Henry turned back to the guy. "Send some men to confirm. If he's there, we're burning that place down."

Luke grinned. "You heard him. Go. "

---

The café was quiet when they walked in, but there was something off about the way the girl at the counter stiffened the second she saw them.

Eight men entered—rough-looking, confident. They knew they were in control. The one in front, a lean guy with messy hair, walked up to the counter.

"Where is he?"

Maira blinked, confused. "Who? "

The guy's expression soured. "Don't play dumb. We know he's here."

Maira feigned ignorance. "I'm sorry, I really don't—"

The guy grabbed her by the collar, dragging her halfway over the counter. "Don't waste my time." His breath reeked of cigarettes and sweat. "Where. The fuck. Is Liam?"

Maira struggled, but his grip was like steel. "I don't know what you're talking about—ugh, let go!"

A sharp smack echoed through the café as the guy slapped her across the face.

"Where is he?!"

Maira gasped, her cheek stinging, but she kept her mouth shut.

The leader of the group, a towering man built like a damn truck, stepped forward. His voice was deep and calm, the kind that made people listen.

"Search upstairs," he ordered. "They're hiding him there."

A few of the men nodded and moved toward the staircase.

Then the café doors swung open.

Mr. and Mrs. Patel stood there, shock and anger written across their faces.

Mr. Patel stepped forward. "What the hell do you think you're doing?! Let go of my daughter!"

The bull of a man turned to face him, looking entirely unimpressed. "Go fuck yourself, old man."

Mr. Patel clenched his fists and stepped forward, but the guy cut him off, towering over him.

Mr. Patel hurried to grab her phone. "I'm calling the police!"

Snap.

The bull guy grabbed his phone and crushed it in one hand before tossing it aside like garbage.

Mrs. Patel gasped, backing away in horror. She turned and ran for the door, hoping to get outside and call for help.

One of the gang members followed her. "Oh no, you *don't*." He snatched the phone from her hands and threw it to the ground, stomping it to pieces.

Then, he raised a fist.

A blur of motion.

Suddenly, the gang member's fist stopped in mid-air, caught effortlessly by another hand.

A hand that belonged to a very muscular guy with a buzz cut.

Ethan.

The gang member looked up, confused, just as Ethan drove his knuckles into his face. Crack.

The guy's head snapped back as four of his teeth scattered onto the floor.

Everyone in the café froze.

The bull guy stepped forward. "Who the fuck are you?"

Ethan flexed his fingers. "That should be my question."

The tension in the room skyrocketed.