Zara stood frozen, Cain's phone still in her hand. The glow of the screen highlighted the message that wouldn't leave her mind:
Warehouse. Midnight. Bring the knife. Alone.
Her fingers trembled as the sound of fabric shifting behind her cut through the silence. She turned slowly.
Cain was sitting up in bed now, half in shadow, his expression unreadable—but his eyes were fixed on the phone.
And her.
"If you ever touch my phone again," he said, voice low and calm, "you'll wish you hadn't."
Zara's throat went dry. She set the phone down on his desk like it burned her fingers.
"I wasn't trying to—"
"But you did." He got up, walking toward her with deliberate steps, barefoot, shirtless, dangerous. "You read it."
"I didn't unlock anything," she blurted, backing up instinctively. "It lit up. The screen was just... there."
Cain stopped a few feet from her. His presence filled the small room like a shadow you couldn't escape.
"What did it say?"
"You know what it said," she whispered.
"Say it."
She hesitated.
"Warehouse. Midnight. Bring the knife. Alone."
He nodded once. "Good. So we're clear."
Zara's heartbeat thudded in her ears. "What does it mean, Cain? Are you—what are you involved in?"
His jaw clenched. She could see it—something inside him, warring with itself.
He turned away. "It doesn't concern you."
"You live with me," she said, louder now. "I share a room with someone who disappears at night, comes back with blood on his hoodie, and gets messages like he's part of some—some—"
"Gang?" he offered dryly, sitting back down on the edge of his bed. "Go ahead. Say it. You're thinking it."
"I don't know what to think."
"Then don't."
"That's not how people work."
He looked up at her, something tight and tired behind his eyes. "Then work differently."
🌒 That Night
Zara lay in bed, sleepless again.
The room was dark except for the faint streetlight through the blinds. Cain was already gone. His side of the room looked untouched, like he'd never been there.
She stared at the ceiling. The shadows shifted with every passing car outside.
What was he doing at that warehouse?
She remembered the look in his eyes—that dead calm, like violence didn't faze him. Like it lived inside him.
And still…
There was something else there too. A kind of sadness. A quiet, bitter sadness that she recognized far too well.
Loneliness.
She got up.
She didn't tell herself where she was going. She just moved.
🏭 The Warehouse – 12:08 a.m.
Zara crouched behind a rusted-out dumpster, breath sharp and clouding in the cold air. The warehouse was massive—long-forgotten and wrapped in ivy. Its metal siding shimmered slightly in the moonlight, like it was warning her to stay away.
Cain slipped inside through a side entrance. She waited thirty seconds, then crept to the nearest boarded-up window.
It took everything in her not to gasp.
Inside were five men—hardened-looking, mid-twenties to late thirties. They stood in a half-circle around Cain, who had dropped a black backpack at their feet. One man, with a jagged scar down his neck, opened the bag and pulled out a curved knife wrapped in cloth.
Zara's stomach twisted.
The man examined the blade, nodded, and said something she couldn't hear. But Cain's posture shifted. His fists clenched. His chin raised.
He stepped toward the man and said something low and sharp—too quiet to catch.
The man laughed.
Another man said something that made the rest chuckle darkly. Cain didn't. He turned around and walked off, heading back toward the door.
Zara ducked down, breath caught in her lungs.
She couldn't move until his footsteps disappeared into the distance.
🏫 Dorm Room – 1:16 a.m.
Zara slipped inside quietly. The door barely clicked shut.
But the light clicked on behind her.
Cain stood at his desk, shirt in hand, bruises on his collarbone, staring at her.
"You followed me."
She opened her mouth, then closed it. There was no point lying.
He tossed his shirt onto the bed and walked toward her.
"Did you see them?"
Zara nodded.
"All of them?"
"Five men. Scar-neck. Backpack. Knife." She crossed her arms. "Who are they?"
Cain didn't answer.
"What are you doing with them?"
Still silence.
"Are you… delivering weapons?" she asked. "Are you a dealer?"
His laugh was humorless. "That's cute."
"Cain, this is serious. If I know something illegal is happening and I don't report it—"
"They'd hurt you before you got a word out."
Zara blinked. "Is that a threat?"
"No. It's a warning." He looked at her, truly looked this time. "They don't care if you're just a girl. Or a student. Or innocent."
His eyes darkened.
"They'll hurt you because you exist. Because you were there. Because you know me."
Something in his voice—low and hollow—made her stop arguing.
"What did they want from you?" she asked, gentler now.
Cain walked to the window and pulled the blinds shut.
"My father owed them. Now they own me."
Zara's chest tightened.
He sat down on the bed, back to her, voice raw.
"I was sixteen when I found out he was laundering money through his bar. The same bar he used to take me to when my mom left." He paused. "Turns out loyalty is expensive."
Zara sat on the edge of her own bed, listening quietly.
"After the crash, they came to me. Said I had two choices. Pay what he owed, or... pay in other ways."
She didn't interrupt.
"So I run errands. Deliver things. Pick up things. And in between, I study, I train, I survive. That's it."
A beat of silence passed.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked softly.
"Because you already saw too much. And you're not the type to shut up." He glanced at her. "Now you know. So either be smart… or be careful."
🕘 The Next Morning
Zara dragged herself to class on two hours of sleep.
She didn't speak to anyone. She just kept her head down.
But when she returned to her dorm room that afternoon, something was off.
The door was cracked open.
Inside, her drawers were ransacked. Her backpack emptied. Her side of the closet wide open.
"What the hell?" she whispered.
Cain arrived a few minutes later. She was still picking up books from the floor.
"Someone broke in."
His face changed instantly. "What?"
"They didn't touch your stuff," she said. "Only mine."
He stepped into the room, scanning every corner like a predator on alert. His jaw tightened.
Zara held up a sticky note that had been left on her desk.
"Curiosity kills."
Cain snatched the note, read it twice, then crumpled it in his fist.
"Who did this?"
Zara shook her head. "I don't know."
He cursed under his breath and paced the room like a cage.
Then: "Pack your things."
"What?"
"You're not staying here tonight."
"Cain—"
"I'm serious." His voice left no room for debate. "You don't get it. If they think you're sniffing around, they won't just scare you. They'll erase you."
She stared at him.
"I can go to a friend's—"
"No. You stay where I can see you."
Zara felt her heart climb into her throat. "Why are you doing this?"
He turned to her, jaw tight, eyes intense.
"Because whether I like it or not... you're in this now."
🛏️ That Night
Zara stayed curled up on Cain's bed while he sat at the desk, alert. A bat leaned beside his chair.
She couldn't sleep.
Not just because of the break-in.
But because of him.
He looked different in the dim light. Softer. But sad.
"Do you ever regret it?" she asked.
Cain didn't look at her. "Regret what?"
"Not pushing back. Not leaving."
He was silent for a long time.
Then: "Sometimes. But it's hard to regret something when it's the only reason you're still alive."
Zara sat up slowly. "Cain… what do they want now?"
He finally met her gaze.
"You."
Her breath caught.
He stood, walked to the bed, and crouched in front of her.
"I can protect you. But you have to listen to me now."
She nodded, heart hammering.
"Good," he said. "Then let's make something clear."
He leaned in.
"Don't trust anyone who suddenly wants to be your friend."
🔚 Chapter End Hook:
The next morning, Zara receives a text from an unknown number.
"We know where you sleep. Try again, and he won't be the only one bleeding."
She stares at it in horror—only for Cain to take the phone from her hand without a word.
He types something. Sends it.
Zara asks, "What did you say?"
Cain says coldly: "I told them they just declared war."