Chapter 27: The Old Bastard Knows
Chapter 27: The Old Bastard Knows
Caleb pushed his way into the station, steps heavy, mind all over the place. In the middle of the crowd, his stomach suddenly tightened—a small pressure forcing itself out. He muttered under his breath."Shit... I gotta piss first."
The day was sliding toward noon, sunlight spilling through the station’s high glass, stretching long shadows across the tiled floor. Caleb followed the signs, slipping into the hallway toward the public restroom.
Far back, the three ragged men were still on his tail. They traded looks, crooked grins spreading across their faces.
"Damn... today’s easy pickings," one whispered, spitting on the floor. Their low laughter cracked out, rough and contagious.
Caleb ducked into a stall, handled his business quick. When he stepped back out, he stopped at the sink. Cold water ran over his trembling hands. He lifted his gaze to the grimy mirror. Dark eyes stared back at him, half-hidden under the mask.
My life... feels like I’m carrying too much shit I don’t even understand. Maya, Fiona, the inheritance... all of it’s a blur.
A splash of cold water hit his hands. Caleb let out a long breath, trying to steady himself.
But as he trying to take of his cap, three more figures bled into the reflection. They were right behind him—tight, like predators closing in on prey.
Caleb froze, heart slamming against his ribs. The three filthy faces grinned crookedly, their eyes locked sharp on the ragged backpack strapped to his shoulders.
One of the three bums suddenly flicked open a switchblade, the dull light of the bathroom bouncing off the thin blade. His smile crooked, dripping with malice.
"Boy... this place ain’t crowded. Not many eyes watchin’. Hand over the bag nice and easy, and we’re done here."
Caleb stood frozen at the sink, water still dripping off his hands. He didn’t answer right away—just stared at their reflection in the cracked mirror. The tall one in the back, eyes sharp as razors, looked like he was stripping Caleb bare with just a stare. And that lit a spark in Caleb’s head.
Eyes... crowded... wait. Eyes? ...hmm. I got an idea.
Instead of panicking, Caleb drew in a long breath and forced a thin smile. His voice came out weirdly calm—almost dumb-friendly.
"I’ll give you the money. As long as... you take me with you."
"Huh?!" The three of them shot each other a look, confusion plastered on their grimy faces. The bearded one with the knife snarled. "Don’t play stupid, boy. You think we’re idiots?!"
The one squatting on the floor cracked up, voice raspy. "He’s just a mommy’s boy... you saw those two women hangin’ on him. Mommy’s boy carryin’ fat stacks. Hand it over and it’s done!"
Caleb gave a small nod, face flat. "I can give you this cash right now. And later... a lot more. As long as you bring me with you."
The bathroom went dead quiet. Three sets of eyes locked, weighing the insane offer. Finally, the tall one lifted his chin, voice steady and cold.
"Alright... give me the bag."
Without hesitation, Caleb handed over the backpack. His movements were calm—almost too easy. The bearded guy snatched it up greedily, clutching it like treasure.
Caleb then took a single step back, falling in line as the three of them headed out of the bathroom together. His face stayed blank, unreadable. But inside, his mind was spinning fast, gears grinding out a plan.
Good... now let’s see where this goes. He thought.
They moved through the crowd, Caleb trailing behind. Every now and then one of the guys glanced back, making sure he was still there—like herding a dumb sheep straight into the slaughterhouse.
But Caleb just kept his head down, hiding the cold smirk flickering under his black mask.
They dragged him out of the station, down narrow alleys, until they stopped at a rundown building with peeling paint. The stench of booze and cigarettes hit like a wall. Two of them looked giddy, even slapping Caleb’s shoulder like he was some old buddy.
"Damn, today’s our lucky day!" one laughed, yanking his friend toward the door. "C’mon, let’s grab smokes and booze—party time, bro!"
That left Caleb alone inside with the tall one. The room was cramped, just a filthy sofa stained to hell and empty cans littering the floor. The tall guy dropped onto a busted chair, eyes never leaving Caleb.
"Name’s Mike. Those two—Anderson and Billy," he said flat. Then he leaned forward, gaze sharp. "Now take off the mask and the cap."
Caleb froze for a second. Shit... if they figure out I’m ButtManiac, this goes sideways fast.
Carefully, he slid off the mask, then the black cap. His messy hair fell loose, face fully visible.
"Sit," Mike pointed at the filthy sofa in the corner. Caleb obeyed, lowering himself slowly, eyes still alert.
He doesn’t recognize me? Safe... Caleb grinned to himself.
Mike narrowed his eyes, then cracked a grin. "Alright, Peter. Talk. Why the hell you carryin’ that much cash? And why the fuck you wanna roll with bums like us?"
Caleb stayed quiet for a beat, brain racing. Damn... not a bad angle. He swallowed, then suddenly let a sly smile creep across his face.
"I’m a rented man," he said smoothly. "Those two women earlier? My clients. Mommy types. They’re starting to treat me like property, boss me around. Honestly... I’m getting bored of it."
Mike blinked, then burst into laughter, slapping his thigh hard. "Damn! You lucky bastard! Hahaha!"
His laughter echoed in the tight room, while Caleb lowered his gaze, hiding the ice-cold glint in his eyes—because the plan was already forming.
Mike finally stopped laughing. He leaned back in the busted chair, eyes still locked on Caleb. His grin thinned out, voice dropping low but steady.
"You know... I may be an old bastard," he muttered, tapping the switchblade against his knee—click, click echoing through the cramped room, "but I keep up with the news."
The words froze Caleb in place. His body stiffened, like the blood in his veins just quit moving. He forced his face to stay blank, but his pupils shrank, betraying him for a split second.
Shit.