Daryl didn't wait.
The second Liam stepped toward him, Daryl turned and bolted like a terrified animal. Pure panic drove him. He didn't look back—he didn't dare look back. His heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted toward the chain-link fence behind him, the metal glinting under the pale moonlight like salvation.
He didn't slow down.
He leapt, grabbing the fence and scrambling upward like his life depended on it—because it did.
But he didn't make it halfway.
Liam moved.
No wasted motion. No flourish.
Just speed and purpose.
In a single smooth step, he crossed the gap and grabbed Daryl by the back of his hoodie like he was nothing more than a rag doll. Then, with terrifying calm, he ripped him off the fence and slammed him to the ground.
THUD!
Daryl's body hit the concrete with sickening force. The air exploded out of his lungs. His vision blurred. Pain screamed through his back as he gasped, his eyes wide, mouth opening and closing like a dying fish.
