The Lines We Can't Cross

Chapter 7: The Wrong Side of Midnight

Midnight in this city was when the predators came out.

Kai had learned long ago that nothing good happened after the clocks hit twelve—but sometimes, the worst nights started even later.

The message had come in just after one a.m.:
Warehouse fire on Dock 14. Cargo compromised.

By the time Kai reached the docks, smoke was curling into the night sky, painting the moon in shades of gray. His men were scattered, some coughing from the fumes, others trying to salvage what was left of the shipment.

"What happened?" Kai demanded, pulling his jacket tighter against the wind coming off the water.

"Truck rolled up, masked guys started unloading our crates into their own ride," one of his men said between breaths. "We tried to stop them, but... it was like they knew we were coming."

Kai swore under his breath. The docks were usually locked down tight—only someone with inside knowledge could've pulled this off.

And then he saw him.

Rin was standing at the edge of the pier, watching the burning warehouse with an expression Kai couldn't read. No crew with him. No weapon visible. Just... there.

Kai marched over. "If you're about to tell me this is your doing—"

"Relax," Rin cut in. "If it was me, I wouldn't be standing here for you to find."

Kai didn't buy it. "So what are you doing here?"

"Trying to stop them," Rin said simply. "Looks like I was too late."

"Stop who?"

Before Rin could answer, a black van screeched out from between two storage containers, tires squealing on the wet pavement. The rear doors swung open just enough for Kai to spot the stolen crates inside.

Without thinking, both men moved at the same time.

Kai drew his gun. Rin was already running toward the van. The driver floored it, but Rin reached the side just in time to grab the handle and swing himself up, his boots skidding on the slick metal bumper.

"Kai!" Rin's voice was sharp over the engine's roar. "You getting in or what?"

It wasn't a question.

Kai cursed and sprinted, catching the door just as the van swerved to the left. He hauled himself inside, gun first.

Two masked men were in the back, one holding a rifle, the other scrambling to shove the crates further inside. Rin was already throwing punches—efficient, precise, not wasting a single movement.

Kai joined in, the confined space making every hit harder, more brutal. The rifle clattered to the floor, and Rin kicked it out of reach without breaking stride.

When the last man was down, both of them stood there for a second, breathing hard. The van was still moving.

"Driver," Kai said.

"On it," Rin replied, yanking the side door open. The wind roared in, cold and sharp. Rin vaulted out, landing on the asphalt and disappearing from view.

A second later, the sound of a gunshot cracked through the night, and the van swerved violently before screeching to a halt.

Kai stepped out, boots hitting the pavement just as Rin emerged from the driver's side, tossing a set of keys into the water.

"Cargo's yours," Rin said, brushing soot off his coat. "Try not to lose it again."

Kai stared at him. "Why help me?"

Rin smirked faintly. "Maybe I just don't like the competition."

But Kai knew it wasn't that simple.