Chapter 15: The Last Errand
1117 Words
Chapter 15: The Last Errand
The Lamborghini rolled up to the estate gate, its engine purring like a predator. Dylan stopped at the security checkpoint, waiting for verification.
The guard leaned down, peering through the tinted window. His eyes widened when he saw Dylan’s face.
“Mr. Chase?” His voice was uncertain, like he couldn’t quite believe it.
Dylan nodded. “Just moved in yesterday.”
The guard checked his tablet, then waved him through. “Welcome home, sir.”
Dylan drove past the gate, leaving the two security guards staring after him.
“That car is insane,” one of them muttered, watching the Lamborghini disappear down the pristine street. “Isn’t that the latest model?”
“That’s not the most surprising part,” his partner replied, frowning. “The most surprising part is who’s driving it.”
“He looked familiar.”
“That’s Dylan Chase.” The guard’s voice dropped. “The guy who used to run errands here. You know, the one who’d do anything for a few bucks—groceries, deliveries, pool cleaning, whatever people needed.”
The other guard’s eyes widened. “Wait. That Dylan?”
“Yeah. He was here yesterday with some agent and the old man. Now he’s got a house in the estate.” He shook his head slowly. “And a Lamborghini.”
“Maybe he’s just running an errand. Maybe someone hired him to—”
“No.” The first guard cut him off. “He’s authenticated. His name’s in the system. He lives here now.”
“But how?” The other guard stared down the empty street. “How does someone go from running errands to this in less than a week?”
Neither of them had an answer.
---
Dylan cruised through the estate, the houses on either side growing larger and more impressive. His own mansion loomed ahead, all glass and clean lines.
Then he saw her.
Kate stood at the side of the road, shoulders slumped, her face drawn with exhaustion. She’d just come out of one of the houses—probably finishing another delivery job.
Dylan slowed the car and pulled over beside her.
Kate’s head snapped up, her body going rigid. She took a step back instinctively, her eyes dropping to the ground. That reflex—fear, submission—was one the wealthy had beaten into them. Never look them in the eye. Never speak unless spoken to. Or lose everything. Every little thing they have left.
Dylan frowned as he climbed out. “Kate.”
Her eyes flicked up just for a second. Then she froze, her mouth falling open.
“Dylan?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Hey.” Dylan walked closer, hands in his pockets. “How’s your daughter? Still at the hospital?”
Kate’s face crumpled. “She’s—” Her voice broke. “She’s getting worse. They said if we don’t pay for the surgery soon…” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve been working every job I can find, but it’s not enough. It’s never enough.”
Dylan’s chest tightened. He and Kate had worked side by side for years. They’d shared the same grind, the same humiliations. She was the closest thing he’d ever had to a friend—someone who understood what it meant to be invisible.
“I can help,” he said quietly.
Kate blinked, wiping her tears. “What?”
“I said I can help. I’ve got some money. Let me take care of it.”
Her eyes widened, disbelief and hope warring in her expression. “Dylan, I know how tight things are for you. We’re in the same boat. Are you sure you can afford—”
“Give me your account number.”
Kate hesitated, her hands trembling. “Are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” Dylan pulled out his phone and held it toward her. “Punch it in.”
She did, her fingers shaking as she typed.
Dylan opened his banking app and transferred the remaining balance from the system’s million-dollar mission—two hundred thousand dollars. Every last cent.
The transaction went through instantly.
Kate’s phone buzzed. She looked down at the screen, and her knees nearly buckled.
“Oh my God.” Her voice broke. “Dylan, this is… this is too much. I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” Dylan pocketed his phone. “Get your daughter the surgery. That’s all that matters.”
Kate’s hands flew to her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I don’t know how I’ll ever—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Dylan glanced over his shoulder. A familiar car was approaching down the street. His stomach sank. “Listen, go. Get to the hospital now. We’ll talk later.”
Kate nodded frantically, already backing away. “Thank you, Dylan. Thank you.”
She turned and ran, disappearing around the corner.
The car pulled up beside Dylan and stopped. The door opened, and a young man stepped out—mid-twenties, polo shirt, designer sunglasses. One of the regular clients Dylan used to run errands for.
The guy’s eyes swept over Dylan with casual disgust. “Oh, Dylan. There you are.”
He pulled a small package from the backseat and tossed it at him. Dylan caught it reflexively.
“Deliver this to Mr. Thompson’s place. You know where it is.”
From inside the car, one of the guy’s friends leaned forward. “Are you sure you should just hand it to him like that?”
The guy waved him off. “Relax. It’s Dylan—the most trusted errand boy in the area. He’ll get it done.” He started climbing back into the car, then paused. “And Dylan? Make yourself more available. I called your old boss, and he said you’ve been MIA. If you want to keep earning, you need to get your head straight.”
He slammed the door shut.
The car pulled away, disappearing down the street.
Dylan stood there, the package in his hands, staring after them.
They hadn’t noticed the Lamborghini parked ten feet away. Hadn’t noticed the expensive clothes he wore. Hadn’t even looked at him—not really. To them, he was still the same invisible errand boy he’d always been.
Dylan looked down at the package in his hands. Then, slowly, he walked over to a nearby trash can.
And dropped it inside.
He climbed back into the Lamborghini, started the engine, and drove toward his mansion.
He was done running errands.
For anyone.
- Writer
