Back Renewed

Back Renewed
To all my dear and loyal readers. I am so sorry that I haven't been updating. There was an issue with the platform. But it has been resolved. Please comment after reading this. I will be updating regularly from now on.

—

Maverick's jaw dropped, and he held Ashley, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Lanky chuckled at the scene in front of him. “Are you looking for protection? Or are you just trying to make my Ashley defile me?” He asked with a menacing expression.

Maverick wanted to reply, but his eyes involuntarily turned to Victor's direction. There was blood spillage on the floor, and Victor lay lifeless.

He stared blankly at the blood, his breath caught in his throat. His body began to shiver uncontrollably, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain earlier. His gaze remained transfixed on the horrific scene before him, his face pale with fear.

Maverick's lifelong dream was to be a detective, but he was raised as a golden boy. This was his first time seeing this much amount of blood, and Victor was the first dead man he had seen.

Lanky furrowed his brow when the man he was talking to kept paying no attention to him. Ashley also looked concerned.

“Are you alright, Birdie?” Ashley asked. He gently raised Maverick's head, his eyes scrutinizing his pale face.

Lanky wasn't convinced by Maverick's expression, and he scoffed. “He is just trying to avoid my questions. Look at him, he is obviously acting traumatized.”

Maverick nodded at their words, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. Each gasp sounded like a desperate plea, his lungs wheezing and whistling with every strained breath.

He held his chest and began to cough profusely.

“Stop this right now! Or else I will fucking shoot you!” Lanky threatened at the top of his voice. But there was fear even in his voice, and he couldn't help but wonder if Maverick was truly acting.

Ashley looked like he had heard enough of Lanky’s shouting, and he quickly carried Maverick in his arms. “Shut the fuck up, Lanky. He is a fucking bartender. Not everyone is used to seeing blood!” he said, and quickly carried Maverick out of the room.

The white substance that Victor gave Maverick dropped in the process, and Maverick couldn't say anything because he was now asleep.

The hallway outside the bar was dimly lit, the flickering bulbs casting long, distorted shadows on the cracked walls. Ashley moved quickly, his boots echoing against the floor as he carried Maverick like something fragile. Something that could shatter at any second.

“Stay with me, Birdie,” Ashley muttered under his breath, his voice lower now. He adjusted Maverick slightly in his arms when the latter’s head lolled weakly against his chest.

Behind them, the door creaked open.

Lanky stepped out, he looked a bit worried, and his amused expression was gone. The Glock 19 hung loosely in his hand, but his grip tightened when his eyes landed on Maverick’s limp form.

“Just put him down, Ashley,” Lanky said, his hands around his waist.

Ashley didn’t stop walking, and he hissed, calling one of the bodyguards to bring his ride.

“I said, put him down. Don't get on my nerves because of a fuckboy!” Lanky’s voice had dropped, and he sounded more dangerous.

Ashley halted. Slowly, he turned around, his eyes cold and unyielding. “If you point that gun at him again, you will seriously hate my response.”

The silence that followed his words was sharp enough to cut through the air.

For a brief second, something flickered across Lanky’s face. He looked conflicted and irritated, but he quickly masked it with a scoff. His eyes dropped, and he handed his gun over to Richard.

“You’re choosing him over me?” Lanky asked, tilting his head slightly. His tone was mocking, but his eyes were desperately searching Ashley's.

Ashley’s arms tightened protectively around Maverick. “I’m choosing sense. He passed out. Or are you planning to interrogate a corpse again?”

Lanky’s jaw clenched. His gaze shifted to Maverick, and he stared at him. Maverick's face was pale, his breathing uneven, and there was a faint tremble that hadn’t fully left his body. For a moment, doubt crept in.

Was he acting? …Or had he pushed too far?

“Tch.” Lanky looked away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You always do this.”

“Do what?” Ashley shot back.

“Get soft over strays. I should have predicted this when you began to talk about a polygamous relationship.” Lanky looked away. “Just go. I will see you at home.”

Ashley's eyes softened, and he knew that Lanky was hurt. But there was nothing he could do. Maverick was in a bad situation, abandoning him could lead to his death.

“I will see you later,” Ashley said and left in a black SUV.

Lanky chuckled, hitting his feet on the floor. He couldn't explain why, but a part of him cared about Maverick…. but it looked like he no longer mattered to Ashley.

“Ash has found a younger fuckboy. He probably doesn't need me!” Lanky murmured under his breath.

He took out a cigarette, and although he had quit smoking, that day he lit it and took a drag.

–
Lanky grew up in an orphanage, where he was constantly maltreated because of his stature.

Polo was his childhood friend, and together they ran away from the orphanage, hoping to build empires together. Unfortunately, at the age of twelve, Lanky was kidnapped by child traffickers, separating them.

Lanky was alone in the traffickers’ den, and he had to fight his way to the top. He killed his bosses and rebuilt the organization from scratch.

Death didn't scare him; being alone did. Having experienced loneliness, he vowed never to return. To him, Ashley, Polo, Mark, and Herod were his world, and he was willing to do whatever it took to keep it that way.
–

After smoking, he threw the cigarette on the floor and entered the bar. It was quiet, and everyone had run away in fear.

Lanky stood alone inside the VIP motel room.

His eyes drifted to the floor where Victor’s body had been dragged aside, the faint smear of blood still marking the spot. Then his gaze shifted slightly… to something else.

It was a small packet of white substance.

He crouched down slowly, picking it up between his fingers. His expression grew unreadable as he examined it.

“…So that’s what this is about.” His grip tightened.

“Brother…” he muttered under his breath, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. “What exactly have you dragged into my territory this time?”

He straightened, slipping the packet into his pocket.

Then, without another word, he walked out of the room, and his bodyguards quickly opened the door of his car.