W.I.N A Dangerous Path

Charlie didn't go straight home after school. Instead, he found himself tagging along with two of his friends, Marcus and Dwayne. He had known them since middle school, and lately, they had been pushing him to hang out more, especially after basketball practice.

Marcus, known on the streets as "Razor," was tall and wiry, his lean frame covered in a mix of sports gear and streetwear. He moved with a calculated sharpness, always watching, always assessing. His eyes, dark and quick, gave away the mind of a strategist, someone who could read a situation before it even unfolded. His reputation for never backing down from a fight had earned him respect, but it also made him dangerous.

Dwayne, called "Brick" for both his solid build and his stubborn personality, was the opposite—broad-shouldered and intimidating. He rarely spoke unless he had something important to say, but when he did, people listened. His heavy hands had settled more than a few disputes, and though he rarely showed emotion, he had a quiet loyalty to those he deemed worthy.

"Come on, Charlie," Razor said, draping an arm over his shoulder. "Let's chill for a bit."

Charlie hesitated. They always wanted to hang out after school as if they had no care in the world. He, on the other hand, had a nagging mother and an overbearing brother waiting for him to get home. The few times he dared to hung with them after school he had gotten in trouble with his older brother.

Even though he wanted to be more a part of their crew at best they were only casual friends, he always tried his best to win their favor.

He knew he should turn them down, he knew his brother Simon would expect him home soon, but when he saw her—Vanessa—standing with them, he ignored the nagging voice in his head. She was effortlessly cool, her dark hair tied back in a sleek ponytail, her confidence radiating with every glance. She was Razor sister and easily the most beautiful girl Charlie had ever seen. He wasn't about to look like a punk in front of her. He would do anything to be near her.

"Yeah, alright," Charlie said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Brick smirked. "That's what I'm talking about. We got plans, man. Real ones."

The four of them walked a few blocks to an abandoned lot behind an old convenience store. A group of older guys loitered near the back, their eyes sharp as they sized Charlie up. He suddenly felt like he had stepped into something much bigger than he had anticipated.

"Yo, this him?" one of the older guys asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette he smoked inside his car.

"Yeah, this is Charlie," Razor confirmed. "Kid's got potential."

Charlie swallowed hard. "Potential for what?"

Vanessa gave him an amused glance. "For something real. Something bigger than school and basketball. "

"Yeah, You want respect, don't you? You don't want people laughing at you forever, right?" Brick jeered

Charlie glanced around. The weight of their eyes on him made his skin prickle. He wasn't sure what he had stepped into, but walking away now would make him look weak.

"Yeah," he said finally, his voice steady despite his uncertainty. "I want respect."

Razor grinned. "Then you're in the right place, man. Stick with us, and you'll get it."

Charlie nodded, but deep down, he wasn't so sure. He had a feeling that once he stepped further down this path, there would be no turning back.

" Charlie, meet Julius" Razor said, pointing at the guy still in behind the steering wheel of his car.

Julius then casually said something to two of the other guys who nodded and left.

He then exited the car and shared a brief embrace with Razor. Julius then whispered something into Razor ear who nodded back at him, then turned and signaled for them to follow.

He then led them into the nearest abandon building.

It only took them a few minutes after they entered for the air inside the building to be thick with the pungent scent of burning weed. Smoke curled toward the broken ceiling, catching in the fractured light of a distant streetlamp bleeding through the shattered windows. The place was a skeleton of its former self—walls tagged with graffiti, floors littered with crumpled beer cans and shattered glass. As they passed the weed amongst them Charlie began to feel like he was being accepted by them. He would have rather it have just been them but Julius and another of his friend decided to joined them.

Both Julius and his fiend appeared to be in their early twenties, they were both heavyset, tatted up, and appear to be the kind of men who'd seen too much and didn't bother pretending otherwise, they lounged across from them. One of them, the quieter one, leaned against a rusted metal beam, rolling another blunt with practiced ease. Charlie had gotten a good look at Julius now, he was leaner of the two men with a sharp jawline and cornrow hair, it was also obvious that he had Vanessa attention

He stayed near the entrance where he could keep an eye on his flashy blue car. He motioning for Vanessa to come join him.

She did without hesitation.

Charlie had just met him, but knew he hated him.

Charlie sat with his back against the wall, legs stretched out, his own joint burning between his fingers. His phone buzzed in his pocket for the third time, but he didn't bother checking. He knew who it was—his brother, calling like always, trying to reel him back in. Charlie let it go to voicemail. This was not the time to be dealing with Simon stress. Tonight was about drowning out the noise.

Vanessa giggled at something Julius said, her lips parting around the blunt as she took a slow, deliberate hit. She exhaled a cloud of smoke, her eyes slightly glazed but still sharp with amusement.

Charlie's jaw clenched. He'd seen guys make moves before, but there was something about this one that dug under his skin. Maybe it was the way Vanessa leaned in, her body language a little too inviting. Maybe it was the way the guy looked at her, like he already knew he had her.

Brick, sitting beside him, noticed. He always noticed.

"Yo," Brick muttered low, tapping the back of Charlie's arm. "Chill, man."

Charlie shrugged him off. "I'm good."

"Nah, you ain't. And you need to be." Brick's voice was calm but firm. "You don't wanna start nothing with these dudes."

Charlie didn't answer. His eyes stayed locked on Vanessa and Julius.

Across from them, Razor exhaled a lungful of smoke, watching the scene unfold with that usual lazy amusement of his. "You stressin' too much, C," he said, flicking ash onto the floor. "I know my sister, She just vibin'."

Charlie's grip tightened around the blunt. His high was evaporating, replaced by the slow, burning irritation in his chest. He didn't like how comfortable this guy was with Vanessa, how close he was getting.

Julius leaned in, whispering something in her ear. Vanessa laughed, her fingers lightly grazing his wrist.

That was it.

Charlie sat up.

Brick's hand clamped down on his forearm before he could move. "Don't." His voice was lower now, dead serious.

Charlie yanked his arm away. "Get off me, man."

"Charlie, listen—"

"I ain't listenin' to shit."

Julius's gaze flickered toward them, a knowing smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Like he was enjoying the tension. Like he wanted Charlie to react.

Brick exhaled through his nose, muttering something under his breath. He could feel it—the shift in the air, he knew things were about to turn.

Razor, ever the observer, grinned. "Yo, don't do anything stupid"

Charlie ignored him. He locked eyes with Julius.

The man smiled wider, he did not even get up he just leaned back against the wall, his arm draping lazily over Vanessa's shoulders like he belonged there. "Somethin' on your mind, little man?" His voice was smooth, casual. But there was an edge to it.

Charlie's blood boiled. He knew this guy was dangerous. He knew Brick was right.

But right now, he didn't care.

The tension in outside abandoned building was thick enough to choke on. Smoke still curled in lazy tendrils toward the ceiling, but the high had long since faded for Charlie. His fingers twitched, his heartbeat thudding in his ears as he stood there, staring towards Julius

He knew he had to get out of there. They had to get out of there.

Charlie flicked his half-burnt joint onto the floor. "Yo, we out." His voice was tight, edged with something his friends weren't used to hearing from him—urgency.

Vanessa, still nestled against Julius's arm, looked up at him, blinking slow like she was processing his words through a haze. "What?"

"I said we out." Charlie glanced at Brick and Razor. "C'mon, man. This ain't the spot."

Razor took another drag from his blunt, exhaling with a chuckle. "Damn, Charlie. When you get all serious?"

Brick didn't move. His eyes flickered between Charlie and Julius, reading the shift in the air just like Charlie had. " Yea, maybe we should bounce," he muttered.

Vanessa groaned, rolling her eyes. "For what? We just chillin'."

Julius smirked, his bright smile flashing in the dim light. "Yeah, we just chillin'," he echoed, his tone dripping with amusement. "Ain't no rush, right?"

Charlie's fists clenched. He could feel the slow boil rising in his chest, the way his vision narrowed in on the older guy's smug face. "Yeah? Funny how you say that when you all up on someone who ain't yours."

The smile on Julius's face didn't waver. If anything, it stretched wider. "She look like she complainin'?"

Charlie's patience snapped. "Get your hands off her."

The room went silent. Even Razor, who never took anything seriously, stopped grinning.

Vanessa's expression darkened. "Charlie, what the hell?" She shook off Julius's arm, pushing herself up. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Charlie didn't look at her. His eyes stayed locked on Julius, his entire body coiled tight, like a spring about to snap.

Julius slowly rose to his feet, stretching his arms like he had all the time in the world. "You got a real problem, don't you, kid?" His voice was still calm, still easy, but there was something underneath it now—something dangerous.

Charlie didn't back down. "Yeah. You."

" You think you all special because what…you can ball a little" Julius smirked as he moved closer.

" Man, Fuck you!" Charlie exclaimed.

Brick stood up now too, his jaw tight. "Charlie, don't."

But it was too late.

Julius moved fast—faster than Charlie expected. One second he was smirking, the next his fist was flying.

CRACK.

Pain exploded in Charlie's face. His head snapped back, stars bursting behind his eyes as he staggered. Before he could recover, Julius grabbed him by the front of his hoodie and slammed him against the rusted metal beam.

"You don't walk in here and talk reckless, little boy," Julius snarled, his voice nothing like it had been before. His eyes glinted inches from Charlie's face. "You don't know who the fuck you messin' with."

Charlie gasped, his vision swimming. He tried to push Julius off, but the older man was too strong.

Brick moved then. "Ayo, chill! Let him go!"

Razor stood, but he didn't move closer. He knew better.

The other man that came with Julius hardly moved, just sat there watching the events unfold as he puffed on his joint.

Vanessa's eyes were wide now, her high completely shattered. "Stop! Please—"

Julius yanked Charlie forward—then slammed him back into the beam again. Hard. The metal rang, the impact rattling through Charlie's skull.

"Know your place," Julius hissed. Then, just as suddenly as he had grabbed him, he let go.

Charlie collapsed to his knees, coughing, pain ricocheting through his ribs. He could taste blood in his mouth.

Julius dusted off his hands like he had just taken out the trash. He turned to the others, his expression smoothing back into that easy grin. "Now. Anyone else got somethin' to say?"

Nobody did.

Brick was tense, fists curled at his sides, but even he knew stepping in now would only make things worse.

Julius snorted. "Thought so." He turned to Vanessa, who was still frozen, her hands clasped over her mouth. He winked at her before looking back at Charlie. "Next time, don't step where you don't belong."

Then he stepped over Charlie like he was nothing and walked toward the back of the building. His quiet friend followed, their presence lingering even after they were gone.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Charlie pushed himself up, blood dripping from his busted lip. His hands were shaking—not just from pain, but from rage, from humiliation.

He staggered out the open entrance onto the sidewalk.

Brick approached him. "I told you," he murmured, voice low. "I told you not to."

Charlie didn't answer. He couldn't.

Because for the first time in his life, he realized just how small he really was.

He angrily lashed out by kicking at the tires of a car that he leaned against.

" Yo! Be cool" Razor cautioned " That is Julius's car, you scratch it man and you are dead"

Charlie flashed off the hand that Razor had put on his shoulder, and stormed away from the group.

That night, Charlie lay on his bed, staring at his phone, his jaw clenched so tight it ached. His fingers hovered over the screen, scrolling mindlessly, checking for texts that weren't there, opening and closing apps without thinking.

Nothing felt right. His whole body was tense, wound up like a spring.

The failed confrontation with Julius burned in his mind like a brand. The smirk, the laughter, the way he had just walked away. Like Charlie was nothing.

Charlie sat up, exhaling sharply. Nah. He wasn't letting this go.

His eyes flicked back to his phone, and out of boredom—or maybe desperation—he opened up that weird site.

"What I Need."

It was supposed to be a storefront, but when the page loaded, it was empty. No products, no prices—just a blank white screen. Charlie frowned, refreshing it. Still nothing.

"What kinda scam is this?" he muttered, tossing the phone onto his pillow.

But the anger was still there, burning under his skin, pushing him to do something. Anything.

And then the idea hit him.

Julius's car.

That gleaming, deep-blue beast that he was flexing in. It seems as if Julius loved that thing more than he loved himself. It spoke about his pride, his status, his way of proving to the world that he was untouchable.

What better way to show Julius that he wasn't?

Charlie's heartbeat quickened. It was perfect. Quick. Silent. And best of all, it would hurt and if he did this right, no one would know it was him.

He spent the rest of his waking moments planning. He had a smile on his face as he drifted off to sleep.

By morning, he had everything figured out.

Charlie moved carefully through the house, making sure his brother wasn't paying attention.

A half-empty bottle of lighter fluid? Snatched from under the sink.

A dirty rag from the garage? Perfect for a wick.

A cheap Bic lighter? Already in his pocket.

He packed everything into his school bag beneath his books, keeping his face straight, casual. His brother barely glanced at him as he sipped coffee in the kitchen.

"Don't be late after school like yesterday," was all he said.

Charlie nodded, fighting back a smirk. Yeah. Sure.

School felt like torture.

Every second dragged by, his mind racing ahead, replaying his plan over and over. It had to be quick—Julius usually parked his car near the liquor store in the evening before he went out. Charlie just had to wait for the right moment, slip in, and light it up.

He checked his phone constantly trying to pass the time, his leg bouncing under his desk.

Bored, he opened the "What I Need" site again.

This time, it wasn't empty.

Charlie blinked.

Two random items had appeared on the page. No names, no descriptions—just images. One looked like an old, beat-up blue jacket. The other was a ring of three keys.

Charlie frowned. The hell?

Curiosity got the best of him, and he tapped the three keys.

Nothing happened.

No confirmation screen, no sound, no sign that anything changed. The item just… vanished.

Charlie scoffed. "Yeah, okay. Lame-ass scam." He locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket, forgetting about it almost instantly.

He had more important things to think about.

When the final school bell rang, Charlie was already halfway out the door. He kept his head down, moving fast but not suspiciously, heading straight for the liquor store parking lot.

He spotted it immediately—the deep-blue car gleaming under the golden sunset.

Nobody around.

Perfect.

Heart hammering, Charlie ducked behind a dumpster, yanking his supplies from his bag. He stuffed the rag into the bottle's mouth, soaking it with lighter fluid. His hands were steady, his mind clear.

He flicked the lighter.

FWOOSH.

The wick caught instantly.

Charlie moved fast, creeping up to the car. His breath was steady. He had planned for this. He wasn't gonna freeze this time.

With a quick movement, he shoved the burning bottle under the car, right beneath the gas tank.

Then he turned and walked away.

Fifteen seconds.

The fire grew.

Ten seconds.

Flames licked at the undercarriage, spreading fast.

Five.

Charlie didn't run. Not yet. That would be suspicious. He forced himself to keep walking, head down—

Then—

BOOM.

The explosion rocked the air behind him, a fiery shockwave ripping through the parking lot. A rush of heat hit his back, and suddenly, everyone was screaming.

Charlie's heart slammed against his ribs. Time to go.

He ducked into an alley, adrenaline spiking as he heard people shouting behind him.

But then— he heard it , clear as day.

" I saw a guy in a white shirt put something under the car, he went down that alley"

Charlie's blood ran cold.

Someone had seen him.

Charlie's lungs burned as he sprinted down the alleyway, the roar of Julius and his boys echoing behind him.

"Do you see him?" someone shouted

The heavy pounding of sneakers against pavement sent his adrenaline spiking. He cut hard to the left, vaulting over a pile of trash bags, barely missing the rusted frame of a broken shopping cart. The sound of shouts grew louder—closer.

" He has a white shirt on" he heard someone yelled.

They were gaining on him.

Charlie tore through the alley, bursting onto the sidewalk, nearly slamming into a couple walking past. He heard their angry shouts but didn't stop, weaving through the foot traffic, pushing forward, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

He wasn't fast enough.

A glance over his shoulder sent a jolt of fear through him—Julius's crew was coming after him, shoving past pedestrians, their eyes locked in his direction like a pack of wolves closing in.

He wished he had a jacket to cover the white shirt he wore.

Charlie cursed under his breath and turned sharply down another street, dodging a guy hauling a stack of boxes. His shoulder clipped a metal trash can, sending it clattering to the ground.

Keep moving. Don't stop. Don't get caught.

The street ahead opened up into a parking garage entrance, and just as he was about to pass it—

WHAM.

He collided full-force with another man sprinting out of the garage.

Charlie hit the ground hard, pain flaring through his side. The guy he ran into staggered, cursing as he dropped something.

Keys.

They clattered a few feet away, glinting under the streetlights.

Charlie groaned, scrambling to his hands and knees. His head was spinning, his heartbeat a frantic drum in his ears. He looked up at the man—mid-thirties, business suit, wild eyes. The guy was picking himself up, muttering under his breath, not even noticing the keys.

Charlie reached for them automatically. He was about to give it back to the man…

Then—

"I think he went down there"

His breath hitched.

Julius and his crew had just turned the corner. They were scanning the street looking for him.

No time.

Charlie closed his fingers around the keys and ran—straight into the garage.

His sneakers squealed against the concrete as he ducked behind a parked SUV, breathing hard, his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest.

He could hear them now, storming in behind him.

Charlie clenched his jaw. He was trapped.

His fingers curled around the keyring. Think, think, think—

Then it hit him.

There was a car key on the ring.

His pulse spiked. If there's a key, there's a car.

He gripped the fob tightly and pressed the button.

Chirp! Chirp!

Across the garage, a sleek black sedan blinked its headlights.

Charlie didn't waste a second. He darted toward it, yanking open the door and sliding inside, slamming it shut as quietly as he could. His chest heaved as he crouched low, hands gripping the steering wheel for support.

Footsteps echoed around the garage.

Too close.

"Check the rows! He's gotta be in here! Whoever that punk is ….he's dead!"

Charlie held his breath, sinking lower into the seat as shadows moved past the row of cars.

"You see him?"

"Nah, but he's in here. Ain't no way out but the front."

Charlie's fingers curled into a fist.

If they found him… he was done.

And he wasn't sure if they'd stop at just beating his ass this time.

Outside the car, the search continued.

Inside, Charlie stayed still.

Waiting.

Charlie could hear the search party shifting. The sounds of their voices grew fainter as they spread out through the garage, moving away from his hiding spot.

This is it. This is my shot.

He sat up, gripping the steering wheel tight, his pulse hammering. His thumb mashed the start button.

The engine roared to life.

Heads snapped in his direction.

"YO! over there"

Charlie didn't hesitate. He threw the car into reverse, tires screeching against the concrete as he whipped backward, narrowly avoiding a row of parked cars.

Julius and his crew sprinted toward him. He could hear them yelling and cursing

Too late.

Charlie shifted into drive and punched it.

The car lurched forward, tires squealing as he gunned it toward the exit. In his rearview mirror, he saw Julius slam a fist against the hood of another car, his face twisted in fury.

Charlie let out a wild, breathless laugh as he hit the ramp, speeding out onto the street. He did it. He got away.

His hands were shaking, but this time, it wasn't fear—it was exhilaration.

He grinned, his adrenaline still spiking as he weaved through traffic, gripping the wheel with sweaty palms. "Holy shit," he muttered, laughing to himself. "Holy shit, I actually did it."

He lifted the keys, shaking his head in disbelief. "You saved my ass, man."

It felt like fate. Like something had lined up perfectly for him tonight.

But what Charlie didn't know—what he couldn't possibly know—was what was happening back in that parking garage.

The man in the suit—Mark Winston—stood frozen, his heart hammering in his chest.

Mark's blood ran cold as he turned back toward the entrance of the building for the second time.

His son was inside.

His asthma-stricken son.

The boy lay on the floor of their cramped apartment, his little chest rising and falling in short, desperate gasps, his hands clawing weakly at his throat. Mark's wife knelt beside him, her voice panicked, her fingers trembling as she held the empty inhaler.

"It's not working! Mark, it's out!"

His wife's words replayed over and over in his head.

Mark had run—sprinted—to his car to get the backup inhaler he always kept in the glove compartment. On his way back he had crashed into a kid, as he scrambled to get up he made sure to secure the inhaler and run it back to his wife.

But the inhaler was not working. He could not believe it too was empty.

And now?

The car.

His car.

It was gone.

For a split second, he didn't understand what had happened. Then, realization crashed over him like a wave, drowning out every other thought.

The kid. The one who ran into him. He took the damn keys.The car was gone.

His son was still gasping for air.

Mark staggered back toward the apartment, his legs like lead. His mind raced, desperately clinging to some other solution.

His wife had called an ambulance.

But this was their neighborhood.

And ambulances rarely showed up on time here.

Mark clenched his fists, his breathing sharp and shallow, his stomach twisting with helpless fury.

His son needed that car.

And some punk had just driven off in it.

He knew the kids face, it was a brief glance but it was a face he would not forget. If his son did not make it then he would make damn sure that kid would not forget his face.

THE END

PLEASE LOOK OUT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTERS IN THE W.I.N. SERIES BY SAM IVY

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