Taitanzu's narrow corridors were quiet, an unusual stillness hanging in the atmosphere as Casey made his way through them. One thing was clear in the way his deliberate footsteps echoed: he was not happy.
Granted, he was usually in a bad mood, but today it was over ten times worse and all the lower members could feel it without even looking at him. The storm that raged inside him had only intensified since the meeting last night, and right now the slightest disturbance would unleash it upon anybody unlucky enough to be in his vicinity when he inevitably snapped. His fists were clenched so tightly he was certain he would burst a blood vessel as he navigated the maze-like halls.
It had been less than twenty-four hours since the executives met and talked about the possibility of the Fort Lauderdale Warriors being present in Tallahassee. The news from Crystal's scouts still buzzed in his mind, tormenting him like an annoying fly. Last night was sleepless, restless energy rippling through him and setting him on edge. In normal circumstances, he thrived on fear and anger—they were his fuel. But things are different now. The Warriors were a big enough threat that Boris had made it exceedingly clear just how prepared everyone needed to be.
As if the potential threat wasn't enough, there was Jazzlyn, the main source of his irritation this fine morning. Boris, going off of Crystal's half-baked theory, had assigned him the task of keeping an eye on her. Not emotionless Triple A, not playful Noah, not carefree Clovis, but him.
He hated it.
Of all the useless things in the world their commander could have given him to do, this had to be the worst and the most infuriating. Babysitting Jazzlyn? Really? She was nothing but a sardine tossed into an ocean of sharks, barely worth the time of his lowest subordinate—yet here he was, tasked with monitoring her every move. He didn't give a damn what arrangements were made or what exactly Boris planned for her. Her presence in this gang was a mistake. She didn't have the brains, the brawn, or the iron will to survive this life. He had better things to do than coddle the weak. The weak did not deserve to live. In his eyes, they were less than dirt. Unfortunately for him, Boris's orders were not to be defied, not without consequences.
"Goddamn it all to hell…"
---
Jazzlyn wiped the sweat from her face with her sleeve as she worked alongside Z and Tavion, the scent of metal and oil heavy in the air, with the low rumbling of machinery filling the room as they went about their respective jobs with care. Her hands, though not completely accustomed to the nature of the work, had grown steadier, though her mind often wandered far from the compound with thoughts of her brother and the words Clovis imparted to her.
Z loomed beside her, her towering figure of muscle and strength providing some measure of comfort. Her optimism and kindness were a blessing which Jazzlyn could never get tired of thanking the Lord for. Jazzlyn knew she was an outsider here, tolerated more than accepted, but Z had always been different, interacting with her like a protective older sister. It was refreshing just being in the big woman's presence. "You're getting the hang of this pretty well Jazz," she said, her voice booming with its usual tone of encouragement. "Just check the latch on that machine real quick. We don't need these babies breaking down on us anytime soon."
Jazzlyn nodded, moving to the machine in question and using a spare wrench to do as she was asked.
Across from them sat Tavion, his eyes clouded and looking as cynical as ever. "I stand corrected…you did last a whole week. Color me impressed." Despite being quick to critique her work at every turn, Jazzlyn had realized it came from a desire to not see any more newbies be brutalized by their malevolent superior. The sharp eyed man had more or less begrudgingly accepted her as one of them, though that didn't stop him from being hard on her. "Your work isn't perfect, but you've done better than most of the other recruits."
Jazzly found herself smiling faintly, a brief feeling of pride warming her chest. This was the happiest she had been in all her time here, and she wished the moment would last forever.
The sound of heavy footsteps cut through the workshop noise, and just like that the moment was brought to its abrupt end. Everyone froze in their tracks, and Jazzlyn's stomach twisted in dread.
Casey.
The door flew open with a bang, hitting the wall hard enough to shake the shelves. From the sound alone it was obvious the door needed to be replaced. Casey stormed into the room, his presence heavier and more furious than it was the last time he came around. His bright green eyes locked on Jazzlyn with a look that turned her veins to ice. "Jazzlyn!" he barked, his anger palpable. "You're coming with me. Now."
Z immediately stepped forward, using her enormous frame to block his path. She had seen this exact thing happen multiple times before, and she knew Jazzlyn hadn't done anything to warrant Casey's wrath. Her usual warmth was replaced by a sense of readiness, though even she couldn't stop the fear from showing in her eyes. "Hold on sir," she raised her hands up as if to calm him. "What's going on? It's only been a week or two, and she's been working very hard—"
The executive's eyes shifted to Z, unyielding in their fury. "Fuck off, Z," he growled, his voice low and dripping with murderous intent. "This is none of your business." Despite their clear size difference, there wasn't a trace of hesitation in his voice.
Tavion glanced between the two of them but made no attempts to move. He knew better than to intervene when Casey was in a bad mood, even though the tension in the room was suffocating him.
Z, however, stood her ground, her massive form a protective barrier between the executive and Jazzlyn. "Like…like hell it doesn't" Z shot back, her voice wavering slightly. Fear flicked in her eyes, but she was determined not to back down now. She had to protect Jazzlyn from the horrors of Casey at any cost. "Jazzlyn's been pulling her weight. Every weapon she checks is in top shape. I don't see a reason for you to take her—"
Before she could finish, Casey moved, changing positions so fast that Jazzlyn barely made out what was happening—his hand shot out and gripped Z by the wrist, trapping her in a vice-like hold. A sickening crack was heard, and next thing anyone knew, Z's wrist had been snapped backward like a twig.
Z let out a sharp cry, her face twisting in pain as she stumbled back, clutching her broken wrist. Jazzlyn couldn't stop herself from gasping in horror. Z, the biggest person she had ever seen, just got her wrist snapped like she was nothing. It spoke volumes of just how powerful the executive's were.
Tavion moved to catch Z as she crumpled to her knees, his expression grim and laced with resentment. He only stared up at Casey, unable to retaliate. He knew better than to fight back against one of the executives, especially not Casey. Z's breath came in quick, pained gasps, terror mingling with the pain in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something but a quick glare from Casey sent her cowering back.
"The only reason your neck isn't broken is because I like your spirit. Next time, you're fucking dead." he snarled, clearly meaning everything he had said. With Z dealt with he snapped towards Jazzlyn, pointing a finger at her. "I said you're coming with me."
Jazzlyn felt like she was about to pass out, but she forced her legs to move. Guilt and shame twisted inside her as she walked past Z, unable to even look her in the eye. She had only tried to protect her and now she was hurt—her wrist shattered by a man with no end to his cruelty.
Caey didn't utter a word as he grabbed her arm, not as tight as he held Z's but with enough force that she couldn't pull herself away even if she had the courage to try. He pulled her out of the weapon's department without looking back, leaving Tavion and Z behind in sorrowful silence.
As they walked, Casey couldn't stop wondering why Boris agreed to her being brought in as collateral. He didn't know nor care what his leader had arranged with that no name from Purgatory—this girl was a liability, simple as that. Boris was always mysteriously wise, so it was likely that he saw something in her that the rest of them couldn't, but whatever it was, Casey wanted no part of it. There were more serious things to bother about.
"What…what's going on? Did I do something wrong…are.. are we going somewhere dangerous?" Jazzlyn's timid voice questions broke the uncomfortable silence, her steps quickening to try and keep up with the man's pace.
"Every single thing in Taitanzu is dangerous if you're weak, which is what you are, a weakling. Just shut up and stay out of my way." he muttered an answer through grit teeth, not bothering to even look at her.
Jazzlyn struggled to keep back tears as she looked down at the floor. She so badly wanted to cry, but she couldn't. It was obvious that the man leading her like a lamb to the slaughter hated weakness, and that was all she had been displaying throughout her stay here. Everyone could see it in her since she was a child—she was trapped, paralyzed by her fear and anxiety, and it was likely that it made Casey hate her even more.
Her fear was a weakness, and weakness had no place in Taitanzu. Just how did Clovis expect her to help this kind of man?
Together they marched through the dimly lit corridors of the compound, Casey's grip on her firm. She found it hard to keep up with his determined pace, stumbling multiple times on the way to wherever he was taking her. She couldn't stop thinking about what went down in the weapons department, the sound of Z's wrist snapping echoing in her head. Guilt threatened to swallow her whole, but she barely had time to swell on it before they took a turn—and nearly bumped into Clovis and Eliza.
Clovis carried himself with his typical relaxed ease, while Eliza remained poise and proper next to him, her expression cool as her eyes flicked to Casey and Jazzlyn.
"Baaaaabysitting duty, huh?" Clovis's voice spoke up first, grinning at Jazzlyn and giving her a two-fingered salute.
Casey shot him a glare. "The hell do you want Clovis?"
Clovis shrugged, leaning against the wall with an amused smile. "Juuuuuuust checking in. Kiiinda surprised Boris took Crystal's suggestion so seriously. Maaaaybe there's more to Jazz over there that only he can figure out. You know how he is."
Casey grunted, not in the mood for Clovis's nonsense. "She's weak. Doesn't belong here. We're better off throwing her in the ocean."
Clovis chuckled softly. "Perhaaaaaps. Or maaaaaybe she's juuust what we need right now. Remember Case, everything that is, wasn't always what you see" He shot a pointed glance at Jazzlyn, who stood nervously to the side, unable to speak. "The strong weren't born strong."
Casey balled his hands into fists, his jaw clenching. Clovis's words hit a little too close to home, but before he could say something about it, the other man straightened up, that goofy smile on his face.
Eliza meanwhile stood quietly next to Clovis, her arms crossed as she took a drag from her cigarette. If she had any thoughts on the conversation, she wasn't showing them. Her expression remained neutral, though Jazzlyn didn't miss the way her gaze shifted between the two men, as if silently waiting for something. Despite how indifferent she was, there seemed to be a quiet understanding between her and Clovis—something unspoken but unmissable.
"Don't forget the message we were asked to deliver Clove. You get so wrapped up in your musings sometimes." Eliza finally spoke up, her voice rough from years of chainsmoking. "Boris wanted to make something clear."
"Oooooooh yeeeeaaaaah." Clovis snapped his fingers, his smile widening. "Yooooouuu know the rep you have Casey…Boris wants to be certain you don't do anything—drastic—to Jazz over there." His tone remained light, but now there was an edge to it.
Casey shifted uncomfortably, suddenly reminded of the power imbalance between them. Clovis always did this. Got under his skin with the barest amount of effort. It infuriated him. "I'm…not sure what you're implying…"
Eliza spoke up next, her tone dispassionate. "No hitting, no breaking her fingers, no getting freaky." She took one last drag before tossing the cigarette to the floor, crushing it underneath her heel. "It simply wouldn't do to have the collateral we were offered be damaged. It means we'll be owing that damned Levi a favor. Taitanzu doesn't owe favors."
Clovis chuckled again, getting off the wall and walking up to Casey, now directly standing in front of him and looking down on his smaller frame. "Just as Liza said. A single scratch appears on her, and well…let's say you'll have me to answer to. Now you remember what happened the last time I had to step in right?"
Jazzlyn, strangely enough, felt a wave of relief wash over her. Clovis's words, though playful, carried an undeniable weight. She personally couldn't believe that Boris would do something like this, but if it meant she was safe from being bashed in the head, then she was taking it. She looked over at Casey, whose face had darkened, veins of frustration popping out on the side of his head as he absorbed Clovis's casual threat.
Casey closed and opened his fists repeatedly, tension rolling off him in waves. His jaw ached as he remembered the specific incident Clovis was speaking about, where he was punched so hard he lost two molars. Pushing back against the laid back man was impossible. "You don't have to worry about it…I know my place…"
"Thaaaaat's great to hear maaaan. Like, I reaaally appreciate ya making it easy." Clovis responded with a thumbs-up, stepping back in satisfaction. He looked over at Jazzlyn with a lopsided smile, winking at her. "Doooon't worry Jazz. He'll behave. Riiiiight Casey?"
Jazzlyn forced a weak smile, her nerves not completely settled. "I'll be fine...Mr Clovis." she mumbled, though she still had a hard time believing everything.
Eliza stirred again, a new cigarette in between her fingers. "Let's hope so. Boris won't like it if something happens to her. Get on his bad side and…" She stopped herself from saying anymore, casting a cursory glance at Casey. "Just don't screw up. Both of you."
Clovis, seemingly unfazed by Eliza's indifference, gave the redhead a pat on the shoulder."Leeeet's leave these two to it Liza. Juuuuust remember, nothing drastic alright Case? Ciao."
He gave a small nod and turned, his lanky arm draped over Eliza as they walked away down the corridor, moving together effortlessly despite their clashing personalities. As the odd duo disappeared from view, Jazzlyn let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
Casey stood still for a second, face clouded with barely restrained anger as he watched the two of them go. There was an undeniable bitterness in his expression, the reminder of how much weaker he was compared to Clovis tearing apart his insides. Without another word, he grabbed Jazzlyn and dragged her to the end of the hall, eventually reaching his room. He shoved the door to his quarter's open and pushed her inside so hard she almost fell flat on her face.
Once the door slammed shut behind them, the weight of the entire encounter settled over her. She cautiously glanced at Casey, who stood stock still in front of the wall with his back to her, his entire body vibrating with rage. When he finally spoke, his voice was low…almost murderous.
"Stay. The fuck. Out of my way," he growled, his words heavy with resentment. "And maybe, just maybe, we'll get out of this in one piece.
Jazzlyn swallowed, her heart beating like a drum as she nodded silently. The uneasy alliance between them was clear as day, and she couldn't afford to forget it.