Rescue and Retribution
922 Words
Kael's POV
I violently kicked the door open; my military school training was no joke. The door swung wide, knocking someone back—probably one of those scumbags.
The moment my eyes landed on the scene inside, my vision turned red.
A tattooed brute was tearing off her dress.
Fury surged through me, the urge to shoot them all in the forehead almost unbearable. It took every ounce of willpower not to pull the trigger.
Coffee Girl lay sprawled on the floor, trembling with fear. Her clothes were torn, her body shaking violently, and tears streamed down her face. The sight of her tears nearly pushed me over the edge.
"Get out, boy." One of them spoke, his voice laced with arrogance. I didn't know if it was an order or a warning, but he failed to make me obey.
I scanned the room, my eyes locking onto each one of them.
"Dude, didn't you hear what he just said?" another thug growled, his voice rough and guttural.
It was apparent—they were low-life scammers pretending to be money doublers.
How the hell did Coffee Girl get mixed up with people like this?
Her head lifted slightly, her swollen lips trembling from the earlier slap. Her face was red and bruised, the pain evident in her eyes. My fury deepened, and I wondered why I hadn’t already beaten these bastards senseless.
"They’ll hurt you. Please go," she whispered, blinking back tears.
I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me with deliberate finality.
"I love that concept," I said with a smirk.
The thug who had been holding her chuckled darkly. He crouched beside her, running a filthy hand along her thigh. I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. If he didn’t stop soon, I might just pity him and not kill him.
I didn’t say I wouldn’t break every bone in his body.
"What, you want to join us in enjoying this pretty little thing?" he sneered, licking his lips.
Coffee Girl whimpered, recoiling from his touch.
"Let. Go. Of. Her." My voice was low, dangerous.
They all burst into laughter, flashing their yellowed, incomplete teeth.
"What did you just say?" one of them mocked between chuckles.
"I said, let go of her!" I repeated, my patience thinning.
"No can do, knight in shining armor," the thug rasped.
I took a step forward, but the click of a gun stopped me.
"Don't you dare move," he warned, aiming the weapon at me.
I raised my hands in surrender—or at least, they thought.
"Relax, guys. What do you want from them?" I asked, shifting my gaze to the beaten-up man slumped in the corner. He looked eerily similar to Coffee Girl. I didn’t need a soothsayer to tell me they were related.
The thug scoffed. "What do you want to do?"
I narrowed my eyes. I hated being disrespected. Hated being looked down on and treated like nothing.
Did they have any idea who the hell I was?
"Maybe help," I shrugged, keeping my hands up until the gun lowered.
One of them turned to Coffee Girl’s brother, smirking. "You're lucky."
"We’re not letting the girl go, though," the gunman added, tucking his weapon into his waistband.
I smirked at his foolishness.
"Why?" I asked.
She was the reason I was here. No way in hell was I leaving without her.
"Her dumbass brother sold her to us. We own her now," he said smugly. "She’s my personal s*x toy."
He licked his lips, his eyes raking over her torn clothes.
He was looking at what belonged to me.
He had no idea how much he’d suffer for that.
Coffee Girl was mine.
I nodded as if I agreed.
"He owes us a million dollars. Pay up," the thug demanded, extending his palm.
I nodded again, reaching behind me as if to pull out money. Instead, I withdrew a mini spear strapped to my back. With a swift flick, the blade extended to full length.
Their eyes widened in shock, and they scrambled for their weapons.
I struck first.
The bastard who called her his s*x toy got the worst of it—I slashed across his face, the tip of my spear slicing into his eye.
He screamed, clutching his bleeding face.
I didn’t stop. I hit him again and again, making sure he felt every ounce of pain he deserved.
His colleagues lunged at me, knives flashing in their hands.
Pathetic.
They were amateurs. They had no chance.
Within minutes, they were writhing on the floor, groaning in pain.
I wasn’t done yet. Not even close.
Retracting my spear, I strode toward Coffee Girl.
She stared at me, wide-eyed, as if she had never seen a man single-handedly take down four thugs.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my hands gently fixing her torn clothes. Her skin burned hot under my touch.
She nodded weakly, still shaken.
"This is the second time," she murmured. It was barely audible, but I caught it.
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"This is the second time you've saved me," she whispered.
I smirked. "Well, you keep getting into danger, pretty lady."
I helped her to her feet.
"Can you stand on your own?" I asked, overseeing her.
She nodded, though her body wobbled before she steadied herself.
I glanced around the room, searching for her brother.
He was gone.
"He's long gone," she whispered.
I clenched my jaw.
That bastard had escaped.
He wouldn’t be so lucky next time.
- Writer
