And as Raven's figure disappeared into the night, Lycia braced herself for what came next.
They met the next night in an old, abandoned warehouse. The place smelled of rust and rot, and every step she took seemed to echo loudly, breaking the heavy, eerie stillness around her. A single bulb dangled from the ceiling, fluctuating, going on and off, and making the shadows on the cracked walls dance and shift. The atmosphere felt uneasy, as though the building itself held secrets of its own. Lycia stood by a worn out, unsteady table, carefully laying out the blueprints of Deveraux mansion. Her hands moved with surprising calmness, even though her mind was filled with lots doubt and worry.
That morning, Jack had been in a much worse state. His coughs were sounding deeper and harsher, like they were coming from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his face was pale and tired, with dark circles under his eyes, a clear sign of exhaustion and sleepless nights.
Lycia had stayed by his side for as long as she possibly could, making sure he had everything he needed to feel as comfortable as he could. She adjusted the worn-out sack stuffed with old clothes that served as his pillow, brought him water, and adjusted the blankets to keep him warm trying to make him more comfortable despite their circumstance. But even as she took care of him, her heart ached seeing him like that, so weak and fragile. When it was finally time for her to leave, his voice, thin, cracked, and barely audible, rasping with desperation as he clutched her hand that morning—pierced the silence and froze her in her tracks.
"Don't... don't do something foolish, kid. I'll get better."
"Sure you will," she had lied, her smile as thin as the soup they'd shared.
"Come on kid…I said don't you worry about me," he'd said, his voice trembling and weak, each word broken by the rattling in his chest. His breath became shallow and uneven, his body betraying the fight he was trying so hard to put up.
"Just...live your life, Lycia," he whispered, his words soft, as if he knew he might not be there to see it again. His sunken eyes held hers for a long moment, full of love and quiet cries, as though he was trying to hold onto her presence for as long as he could. A weak, fleeting smile tugged at his lips, but it did little to hide the sadness that lingered behind it.
But she did worry. Every second she spent planning this job, her thoughts would flicker back to him, alone; struggling to breathe, his body betraying him slowly. He needed her, but she couldn't afford to fail. Not now. Not when everything was on the line, not when she could fix everything.
Raven had been annoyingly casual during their planning session, leaning back in her chair with that infuriating ease, like this was just another heist. She didn't even seem to notice the weight of the situation, the urgency that pressed down on Lycia's shoulders. As if it was just another game.
She had pointed out weak spots in the Deveraux mansion's security, saying the details like she was giving a casual briefing. Lycia couldn't help but feel a cold, sinking suspicion gnawing at her.
"How...how do you know all this?" Lycia asked, her voice tight with suspicion.
"I have my sources," Raven had replied with a shrug, her lips twisting into that smug smile. "Let's just say I've done my homework."
Lycia had stared at her for a long beat, her mind racing. It wasn't enough of an answer. But she didn't have that time to press on for an argument. Her focus had already shifted, her mind returning to the task at hand. The layout of the Deveraux mansion, the security systems and the guards. She went over the blueprints again and again, memorizing every corner, every hidden door, and every possible escape route. If she was going to survive this, she couldn't afford any mistakes.
Raven had watched her, her eyes gazing over Lycia with a mix of amusement and something else, something unreadable. Raven's gaze swept over Lycia, her lips curling into a slow, mischievous smirk. Her steps were deliberate and precise, as she closed the distance between them.
"You're still the same, you know," Raven murmured, her voice steamy. Lycia's jaw tightened a flash of irritation flaring in her eyes, but her pulse quickened as Raven's fingers glided over her collarbone, light as a whisper yet sending a jolt of heat through her. The touch lingered, teasing her, her breath hitched, catching in her throat.
"Always so serious," Raven continued, her tone softening as her hand lingered, trailing down to rest against Lycia's chest.
"Always carrying the weight of the world on those pretty shoulders of yours. When will you stop pretending you don't want someone to help you lighten the load?" She leaned in closer, the scent of her perfume curling around them.
"Or maybe you'd rather carry me instead?"
Raven's lips hovered dangerously close to Lycia's ear, her warm breath brushing against her skin. Lycia swallowed again, the closeness making her pulse race, her heart hammering as Raven's words sank deeper, too close, too tempting.
Lycia stepped back sharply, her jaw clenching as she willed her heartbeat to slow.
"I'm not saving the world!," she snapped, her voice razor-sharp and trembling with suppressed anger, or was it something else?
"I'm saving Jack."
For the briefest moment, something flickered in Raven's eyes, guilt, regret, vulnerability, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Her smirk returned, sharper now, almost cruel.
"Jack?" she repeated, drawing the name out like it was a joke. Her gaze dropped, raking over Lycia with mocking intensity.
"Well, let's hope he's worth all this effort."
The words sliced through her, upsetting her, but Lycia refused to flinch. She looked down at Raven for a moment, her hands balling into tight fists at her sides as she bit back the retort burning on her tongue. Jack needed her, and she would be damned if she let Raven get under her skin. But the way Raven's fingers had lingered, the way her voice had dipped, it clung to her like a feeling, far too close for comfort.
She ignored Raven's jab, pushing it aside like she had all the others before it. Jack was worth it. He was worth everything. Every moment of doubt, every painful reminder of Raven's past betrayals, none of it mattered.
Her eyes lingered on the blueprints, tracing the intricate layout of the Deveraux mansion with her finger, a fire burning in her chest. She couldn't fail. Jack's life depended on it. And no matter what it took, she was going to make sure she didn't fail again.
For a brief moment, as the silence thickened between them, Lycia remembered the last time she had trusted Raven. She remembered the rush of adrenaline, the twisted thrill of pulling off their heists together, the false warmth of her touch. Back then, Raven had whispered sweet promises in her ear, made her believe in the power they could wield, in the future they could build.
But Raven had always been a liar, a user. And Lycia had learned that lesson the hard way.
She looked up, meeting Raven's eyes with cold resolve. The game had changed. There was no turning back. Raven might think she had control, but Lycia would never be the same naive girl who had once trusted her. Not anymore.
This time, she wasn't playing for Raven. This time, she was playing for Jack.
And she was going to win.
She took a deep breath, grounding herself in the present, in the reality of the moment. She was still held hostage in Cove's mansion, a prisoner in the heart of enemy territory. Her body ached from the chains that had once bound her, and her mind raced with plans, dangerous reckless plans, but there was no other choice. She couldn't afford to hesitate.