Fight and fired

The air still vibrated with the aftershock of her outburst when the door didn’t just open—it disintegrated. Wood and metal shrieked, exploding inward in a shower of splinters and mangled hinges. Jade’s head snapped toward the sound, every nerve ending alight.

Framed in the jagged opening, three hulking shapes pushed through the settling dust. Bouncers. The largest—a behemoth with a face like a meteor crater—scanned the room, his eyes stopping on her. Victor. The faint blue glow that had clung to Jade’s skin flickered and died, leaving a cold sweat in its wake. Her breath hitched. Her hands, still tingling, clenched and unclenched.

Behind the wall of muscle, Abby appeared. Her crimson dress was rumpled, her hair askew. Her face, normally a mask of cool business, was a canvas of fury. Her eyes flicked from Jade to Bree, cowering near the ruined couch, then to the twins.

Greg groaned, pushing himself up. His movements were stiff, pained. Cradling his side, his platinum hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. Even across the room, Jade saw the tremor in his hands. Stephan leaned against the remnants of the wall, his designer jacket torn and stained. He tried for composure, but a grimace kept twitching at the corner of his mouth. The metallic tang of their energy, that burnt smell, was still strong, but now it mingled with the distinct odor of their pain. Good.

“What in V’s hell happened in here?” Abby’s voice cut through the tense silence, sharp as shattered synth-glass. Her gaze pinned Jade.

Victor stepped forward, his sheer mass seeming to suck the oxygen from the room. The scent of stale sweat and cheap synth-cologne filled Jade’s nostrils. “This is a private establishment, not a fighting ring. Take this shit outside, or we'll make you regret it.” A low thrumming energy emanated from him, a subtle pressure against her senses. Enhanced. Definitely.

“This doesn’t concern you.” Stephan’s voice dripped with ice. He straightened, trying to loom, but next to Victor he looked like a spoiled child.

“Everything in the Crystal Rocket concerns us.” Another bouncer hauled Greg to his feet, thick fingers wrapped around his bicep like steel cables. Greg’s nose was still bleeding, crimson drops staining his expensive collar. “Time for you boys to leave. We’ve got cameras on every exit. I promise you won’t like what happens if you try anything stupid on your way out.”

Abby shoved through the bouncers. Jade’s stomach dropped as the manager’s face transformed from fury to horrified recognition.

“Oh heavens, I deeply apologize, gentlemen.” The sweetness that crept into Abby’s tone sent chills down Jade’s spine. “Allow me to remedy this. All of tonight’s charges are on the house, naturally. I’ll ensure The Corporation doesn’t receive a single invoice.”

The twins’ demeanor shifted instantly. Greg’s predatory grin softened into a charming smile, blood still staining his teeth—transforming from menacing enforcer to polished businessman in a heartbeat. He straightened his jacket, wincing at his injured ribs, though his eyes never lost their calculating edge.

“No harm done.” Stephan brushed glass fragments from his sleeve with an elegance that banished his street garb. The shards tinkled against the floor like deadly wind chimes. “These things happen in establishments like this. Though perhaps better security screening would prevent such… unfortunate situations.” His fingers twitched—a tell Jade guessed meant he was far from finished.

Abby wrung her hands, manicured nails digging crescents into her palms as she shot daggers at Jade. “This is completely unacceptable. Please, let me make this right.”

“Bree!” Abby’s voice cracked like a whip. “You’re fired. Get your things and get out. Now.”

Bree’s perfect features crumpled, her skin going pale, lips trembling. “But Abby, I—” The raw hurt in her voice made Jade’s chest constrict.

“No buts. You brought this trash into my club.” Abby jabbed a finger at Jade. “And you—Victor, escort this piece of street garbage out. If I ever see you near my establishment again, I’m calling the authorities.”

Jade’s heart pounded. The room spun.

“This isn’t Bree’s fault. I caused this.” The words scraped past the lump in her throat. “I… I provoked them. I thought they were going to hurt her. She didn’t know I was here.” She met Abby’s cold gaze, a desperate, silent plea. “Bree’s innocent.”

Abby’s expression didn’t flicker. “Get them out of here.”

Two guards moved in. Fear, cold and sharp, pierced Jade. Bree’s eyes went wide, composure shattering, and she started to sob. Jade hadn’t planned on this. She’d just wanted to watch out for Bree.

The bouncers’ grip bit into her arms as they marched them through the back corridors. Footsteps echoed off bare concrete walls, the glamour of the club giving way to stark utility. The sharp contrast matched the pit in Jade’s stomach—everything had gone wrong so fast.

A blast of cold night air hit her face as they shoved through the heavy metal door into the alley. The bouncers released them with enough force to send them stumbling. Jade caught herself against the grimy back wall, but Bree went down hard on the dusty pavement.

“Don't come back. Either of ya.” a voice barked, the words clipped and sharp. The heavy metal door slammed shut, the sound echoing in the narrow alley, a final, brutal punctuation mark. The metallic clang vibrated through the alley, jarring Jade’s already frayed nerves. A wave of nausea, a familiar companion these past few days, rolled over her. She was in hot shit, again.