Chapter 3: Keifer's Silent Rage
The rain started as a whisper, then turned vicious—sheets of water slamming against Drew's tin roof like the sky itself was trying to break in. Inside, the barkada moved like a well-oiled machine on panic mode.
Ci-N barked orders: "Marco, grab the first-aid kit and any cash we've got. Lance, check the back alley—see if those collectors left a tail. Theo, phone's on silent, no calls in or out unless it's Yuri."
Theo nodded, fingers flying over his screen, already pulling up a group chat map to track everyone's location. Drew was stuffing papers into a backpack—family documents, probably the ones tied to the debt that had started this nightmare.
Jay-jay stood in the middle of it all, soaked from the porch, hair plastered to her face, heart slamming against her ribs. Keifer hadn't let go of her hand since the phone call. His grip was tight, almost painful, but she didn't pull away. Not yet.
He was quiet now. Too quiet.
That was the scariest part. Keifer Watson didn't do quiet. In Section E, he was the one who roared orders during pranks, who slammed lockers when someone crossed him, who once punched a wall so hard it dented because she'd smiled at Yuri during lunch. But this silence? It was a storm building under his skin, the kind that could level everything when it finally broke.
"Keifer," she whispered, tugging his sleeve. "We need to move. If they're coming for me—"
"They won't touch you." His voice was flat, deadly calm. The kind of calm that made her stomach drop. He finally looked at her, eyes dark and unreadable. "Not while I'm breathing."
The words should have felt protective. Instead, they felt like a promise wrapped in razor wire.
Ci-N appeared at her side, hoodie up against the rain leaking through the cracked window. "We've got two options: my place in the next barangay—it's small, but secure—or we split up and meet at the old warehouse near the school. Less chance they track all of us."
"Warehouse," Keifer said without hesitation. "It's defensible. And close enough to the main road if we need to bolt."
Jay-jay frowned. "The warehouse where you used to hide after fights? The one with the broken skylight?"
He nodded once. "Yeah. They won't expect us to go back to school grounds. Too obvious."
Drew zipped his backpack. "Then let's go. My scooter's out back—two at a time. Jay, you ride with Keifer. No arguments."
She opened her mouth to protest—riding with Keifer meant being pressed against him, feeling his heartbeat, smelling that damn cologne again—but the look in his eyes stopped her. He wasn't asking. He was commanding.
Minutes later, they were out in the rain. Keifer's old black scooter roared to life, engine growling like it shared his rage. Jay-jay climbed on behind him, arms wrapping around his waist automatically. His body was rigid, every muscle coiled.
"Hold on tight," he muttered over the engine noise.
She did. Tighter than she should have.
They peeled out into the night, rain stinging her face like needles. The others followed in pairs—Ci-N with Theo, Lance with Marco, Drew alone on his beat-up bike. The streets were slick and empty, streetlights blurring into golden streaks as they raced toward the old HVIS campus.
Jay-jay pressed her cheek to Keifer's back, trying to steady her breathing. His shirt was soaked through, clinging to the hard lines of his shoulders. She could feel the rapid thud of his heart, faster than the engine.
"Keifer…" she started, voice barely carrying over the wind and rain.
"Not now."
"Yes, now." She squeezed his waist harder. "You're shaking."
He didn't deny it. Just gunned the throttle, weaving through puddles like he was trying to outrun his own thoughts.
They reached the warehouse in under ten minutes—a crumbling brick building behind the school gym, vines choking the walls, the broken skylight letting rain pour in like a waterfall. The others arrived seconds later, engines cutting one by one until only the drumming rain filled the silence.
Inside, the air smelled like rust and old concrete. Lance flicked on a battery lantern, casting long shadows across the empty space. They huddled in the driest corner, under a half-collapsed awning.
Keifer finally released her hand, but only to pace. Back and forth, boots splashing in shallow puddles. His fists clenched and unclenched, knuckles already bruised from the sink earlier.
Ci-N leaned against a pillar, arms crossed. "Talk, Kief. Yuri said 'they know about her.' Who's 'they'? And what the hell does that mean for Jay-jay?"
Keifer stopped pacing. His back was to them, shoulders rising and falling with each harsh breath.
"It means the debt wasn't just Drew's family loans," he said quietly. "It was mine too. My dad borrowed from the same people years ago. Yuri… he took over the payments when Dad couldn't. Quietly. Without telling anyone. Including me."
Jay-jay's stomach twisted. "He was paying your family's debt? With what?"
Keifer turned slowly. Rain dripped from his hair onto his face, mixing with what might have been tears—or maybe just water. "With everything. Favors. Fights. Whatever they asked. Tonight… he must have settled it for good. Probably with blood. Or worse."
Drew sucked in a breath. "Worse how?"
Keifer's eyes met Jay-jay's, and the pain there nearly undid her.
"He gave them leverage. Something they could use against us. Against her." He swallowed hard. "Because the collectors knew Yuri was protecting Section E. They knew he'd do anything for the barkada. And they knew the one thing that would break him—and me—was if they went after the Mutya."
Jay-jay felt the world tilt. "Me? Why me?"
"Because you're the only one who ever made us both choose something other than revenge," Keifer said, voice cracking for the first time. "Yuri fell for you the moment you transferred in. I hated him for it. But I fell harder. And they knew that. They've been watching. Waiting."
The warehouse went deathly quiet except for the rain.
Then Keifer did something she never expected.
He dropped to his knees in front of her, water pooling around him, head bowed like he was confessing to a crime.
"I'm sorry, Jay-jay," he whispered, voice raw. "For the lies. For using you. For dragging you into this hell. If they come for you… it's because of me. Because I couldn't protect what mattered most."
Tears burned her eyes. She wanted to hate him. She wanted to run. Instead, she knelt too, knees hitting the wet concrete, and cupped his face in her hands. Forced him to look at her.
"Then protect me now," she said, voice trembling but fierce. "No more secrets. No more running. We face this together. All of us."
His hands came up to cover hers, trembling. For a heartbeat, the world narrowed to just them—rain, shadows, and the fragile thread of trust they were trying to rebuild.
Then Lance's voice cut through like a blade.
"Guys… headlights. Outside the gate."
Everyone froze.
Keifer stood in one fluid motion, pulling Jay-jay behind him. His hand went to the small of her back, protective, possessive.
"Positions," he ordered, voice steel again. "They found us faster than I thought."
Jay-jay's pulse thundered in her ears as shadows moved outside the broken windows—multiple figures, rain-slicked, closing in.
And in the distance, another engine roared. Not theirs.
Someone was coming.
But whose side were they on?
To be continued…
(End of Chapter 3)
Word count: ~1,580
Cliffhanger: Full panic mode. Readers won't sleep tonight.
We're building the addiction. Ready for Chapter 4? Let's keep the viral fire burning!