Fight or Flight

{TW: Threats, light violence, forced sedation}

"He took out four guys by himself?"

"Yeah, from the Roth gang."

The Roth gang?

That bastard took over my gang?!

I jolted awake.

"What'd you do to him? How badly did you beat him?" someone asked.

"Not at all."

Dammit. Where am I?

I tried moving but quickly realized I was tied to a fucking chair.

A shadow loomed in front of me. Tracksuit. Vulture tattoo. Cigar breath mixed with whiskey.

Cormac "The Blade."

A crime lord, a legend, and a royal pain in the ass in my last life.

"It's nice to meet you, kid," he said, watching me like I was some kind of exotic animal. "I've been dying to meet you after hearing all the rumors. I forgot to introduce myself—you must be wondering who I am."

Like hell I was wondering. I knew exactly who he was.

"This is actually pretty surprising," he mused, rubbing his chin. "I heard you were hot shit these days, so I just wanted to see what you looked like. But you're pretty handsome. Do they choose the strongest in school based on looks now?"

He's trying to intimidate me.

"You think you can survive the harsh street life?"

Dammit. If only I wasn't tied up.

I had literally fought to avoid this kind of life, and now, somehow, I was right back at square one.

I smirked—pure habit.

"Oh? You're not scared?" Cormac asked, eyes narrowing. "Tell me, what's so amusing?"

"How is this not laughable?" I scoffed. "I get that you wanted to see me because of rumors or whatever, but what's funny to me is that you, the boss, had to tie up a small kid like me just to talk. That's hilarious."

Cormac scowled. "What?"

"Since when do street gangs get involved in high school bullying? Aren't you just wasting your time on kids?" I frowned. "And you still haven't introduced yourself properly. Rude."

Silence.

Cormac suddenly threw his head back and laughed. A deep, hearty laugh. "He's not afraid of anything, is he? Are you trying to provoke me, kid?"

"Who knows?" I smirked again. "Why don't we talk after you untie me, pussy?"

The room went dead silent.

One of his men immediately stepped forward. "Boss, you can't! He's definitely plotting something!"

Cormac gave him a slow, lazy glance. "Did I ask for your opinion?"

The guy shut up real quick.

Cormac smirked and gestured. "Untie him."

I stuck my tongue out at the guy who protested as the ropes loosened. Now what? I was in their territory, and I had no idea how deep.

Once my hands were free, I rolled my wrists and leaned back. "Okay, now what's your name?"

"...Cormac."

I nodded. "I'm Jack Spencer."

Silence.

Cormac and his men flinched.

I smirked. Ah, there it is.

"No relation to the one that died," I clarified. "Just happens to be the same name. Is that why you came to get me?"

"Not at all," Cormac said, regaining his composure. "My son recently—"

BANG!

The door burst open.

"BOSS, WE HAVE A PROBLEM—"

The guy barely got the words out before he was kicked across the room.

Three people stormed in.

At the front—Jared.

And he was pissed.

"Jared!" Cormac snapped. "Shouldn't you be at the doctor's office?"

"Dad, what the hell?!" Jared snapped back.

...Dad?

Holy shit.

My eyes widened. Jared was the son of the leader of the Vulture gang?!

Was he the rumored son that was breaking away from gang activity?

"Jared?" I muttered in disbelief.

"This is insane, Dad! Let him go!" Jared demanded.

"I'm just making sure he's good enough—"

"I can do that on my own, and stop lying! I've heard all the rumors on the street! You think he's going to be a weapon! Leave him out of it!"

Cormac's eye twitched. "I had to get him before the Roth gang—"

"Aren't you ashamed of kidnapping a high school kid?" Jared snapped. "This isn't the fucking 90s IRA, Dad!"

Cormac clicked his tongue. "Ugh. Fine. Take him. But I'm keeping an eye on this."

He turned to me.

"Oh, and Jack Spencer—" He smirked. "It was nice meeting you today. Let's meet under better circumstances next time."

"Fuck off."

I followed Jared out.

***

My mind was spinning.

Jared's in a gang? Jared's dad is a fucking CRIME LORD?!

Wasn't I supposed to be living differently?

Why would God put me right back on a direct path to the gang world?

Was this temptation?

Or a chance for revenge?

"Want to start explaining?" I asked as we stepped outside.

"We should get you off this territory first," Jared said.

I stopped walking. "Hey, quit the bullshit and explain it to me. I'm not in the mood to—"

Suddenly, a hand yanked my collar and slammed me into a brick wall.

"You cocky shit! We broke our backs to come get you, and you think you can do whatever you want?!" One of Jared's guys growled.

I grinned. "Oh, go fuck your mother."

"JUST STOP!" Jared shouted. "Who told you to get involved?! I'll tell him everything now!"

The guy let me down. I glared.

Jared sighed. "Where do I start... You beat up some very problematic guys from another gang—one we currently have tensions with."

I clenched my fists. Of course.

"We've been fighting the Roth family for years. They've been making moves, and now they've got an eye on you. My dad wanted to get you first."

"...And Jason?" I asked.

Jared hesitated. "He's... already at the hospital."

"What?"

"He was looking for you. Ran into us instead."

I felt something twist in my chest.

Jared exhaled. "Anyway, let's go. Who knows what they're planning next."

"To hell with that." I turned away. "Why would I follow a gang member?"

Jared flinched.

"Fuck, just leave me alone until tomorrow or something!" I snapped. "This gang shit is pissing me off."

"Hey—"

"Stop." Jared cut his guy off. He looked at me for a moment, then sighed.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Jack."

I started walking away.

Twenty minutes. That's all it would take to get home if I used my old shortcuts.

But shit—what kind of fucked-up situation is this?

I don't want to go through a harsh gang life again. I like where I am! I have a normal life now! And yet, here I am, again, tangled up in street politics, just because I threw a few punches.

Cormac says he wants to meet me again.

Eli's gang is talking about me.

They think I'm worth something.

I don't want to get involved. Not even for revenge.

...But I do want revenge.

I shook my head.

A perfect opportunity doesn't make it right, though.

What the fuck am I supposed to do?

I'm paranoid as fuck!

Where the hell is God with some fucking advice?!

***

The second I got home, I blew past everyone.

Straight to my room.

I threw open my closet and started yanking things out. Packing. Sorting. I could sell at least half my shit—enough to live on for a while. I needed out.

I needed out right now.

I heard footsteps in the hallway.

"What's going on in—Jack?"

I turned to see my dad standing in the doorway, lowering the bat in his hand.

"Dad."

His eyes scanned the room—clothes strewn everywhere, shelves half-empty, my travel bag halfway packed.

"I thought there was a burglar in here or something." He stepped forward, frowning. "And what's with all this mess?"

"Packing." I zipped up my bag. "I need to leave town. Right now. If you could send me abroad, that'd be great."

"...What the hell are you talking about?"

Dad's eyes flickered to my face. His expression darkened.

"Who the hell beat you up?"

"Forget it!" I snapped, stuffing more clothes in my bag. "I just need to pack! I need to leave now!"

"Are you crazy?" Dad grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around. "Why do you keep saying you have to leave? Where would you even go?"

"Does that matter right now?!"

I shoved his hand off.

"The fucking Vulture gang wants a piece of me!"

Dad's face went still.

"Jack." He took a slow breath. "Calm down. Just breathe for a second."

"I'VE GOT TO RUN!" I yelled. My whole body was shaking now. "Dammit! How did I get here?!"

My vision blurred. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

"Dad." My voice broke. "Let me borrow some money. I'll work my ass off, I'll pay it back, I just—I just need to—"

A sharp pain shot through my arm.

My body jerked.

I spun around and saw a man in a doctor's coat.

"What the fuck?" I swung my arm, shoving him hard. "YOU FUCK! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!"

Dad caught me before I could lunge again. "It's just a sedative, Jack," he said firmly.

A sedative.

My limbs felt heavy.

"You fucking geezer," I slurred, trying to push him away. My knees buckled. I hit the floor.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Dad knelt beside me, his voice softer now. "I'm helping you. You need to stop panicking. Just sleep for now, okay?"

"Motherfucker..."

The world spun.

Then—black.