ROCKY - Operation Vengeance

Chapter 7- On the Run 🏃

Pain.

It coiled inside Rocky.

It burned, seethed, begged to be unleashed.

His fists trembled. His breath came sharp.

Then—

A hand on his shoulder.

Mickey.

“Don’t,” the boy murmured.

Rocky’s jaw clenched.

Mickey’s eyes flickered with something—understanding.

“You lose yourself now,” he whispered, “you lose everything.”

Rocky’s chest heaved.

But he forced himself still.

Silence settled.

Then—

A low chuckle.

Jerry.

He sat back in his chair, legs spread wide, his gold rings gleaming under the light.

His fingers tapped against the wooden table—slow. Deliberate.

Melissa sat stiffly beside him.

Tense.

Afraid.

A single tear traced her cheek.

Jerry’s head turned, his gaze dropping to her.

A smirk.

Then—

His hand moved.

Gripping her chin.

Forcing her to look at him.

Rocky’s blood ran cold.

“You know,” Jerry murmured, “I’ve been patient with you, Melissa.”

His thumb brushed over her lip.

Her breath hitched.

Rocky’s fingers curled into fists.

Jerry exhaled, shaking his head.

“But patience runs out.”

Then—

He leaned in.

Lips pressing against her jaw.

Melissa flinched.

Tears welled in her eyes.

Then—

A sharp gasp.

Her teeth—sinking into his skin.

Jerry jerked back.

His eyes flashed.

Then—

A crack.

His palm met her cheek.

Melissa’s head snapped to the side.

Silence.

Her breath came in short, shaky gasps.

Rocky felt his nails dig into his palms.

Then—

Jerry exhaled, flexing his hand.

His gaze lifted.

Landed on the boss.

“She’s still got some fight in her,” he mused.

The boss tore another piece of chicken, chewing lazily.

His gaze flicked to Rocky.

A slow, greasy smirk.

“Serve me a drink.”

Rocky stiffened.

The boss licked his fingers.

“On your knees.”

The air thinned.

Rocky’s pulse pounded.

Jerry’s laughter echoed in the room.

“Go on,” he taunted. “Be useful for once.”

Rocky’s body refused to move.

Mickey nudged him.

“Do it,” the boy whispered.

Rocky’s jaw tightened.

Then—

A slow exhale.

He lowered himself.

Knees against the cold floor.

He reached for the bottle.

Poured.

The amber liquid swirled into the glass.

He lifted it.

Offered it.

Jerry smirked.

Took the glass.

Took a slow sip.

Then—

A sneer.

“You know, Melissa…”

His voice was light.

Mocking.

“Your ex-husband was always pathetic as your mother said.”

Melissa trembled.

Jerry swirled the drink.

“The way they begged me to take you,” he chuckled, “almost made me pity you.”

Melissa choked on a sob.

Regret poured from her eyes.

“Please let me go”

Jerry tilted his head.

Smirk deepening.

Then-

A chuckle.

Jerry tilted his head, watching Melissa with lazy amusement.

“Apologizing?” he mused. “For what?”

His fingers traced her jaw, firm, possessive.

“You belong to me now.”

Melissa’s breath hitched.

Jerry sighed, shaking his head.

“Your family had a debt,” he said simply. “They couldn’t pay.”

A smirk.

“So they dropped you instead.”

Melissa flinched.

Tears welled.

Jerry leaned back, swirling his drink.

“I was going to use that money for a good time.”

A slow sip.

Then—

His gaze dropped to her.

“But now…”

His smirk widened.

“I’ll still have a nice time.”

His voice dipped lower.

“With you.”

Melissa’s stomach twisted.

Her hands trembled.

Then—

He set the glass down.

Pushed his chair back.

Stood.

Around him, his men erupted—hooting, laughing, firing shots into the air.

Melissa’s breath came in short, sharp gasps.

Jerry’s fingers flexed.

Then—

His hand moved.

Slid beneath her skirt.

Melissa froze.

Her body locked in terror.

Her lips parted—

A single, silent plea.

Then—

Her eyes met Rocky’s.

A moment.

A breath.

Then—

A sharp inhale.

Rocky’s fingers clenched.

His teeth ground.

His blood—boiling.

Then—

A blur of motion.

A snarl.

A bottle.

Crashing.

Shattering.

Against Jerry’s skull.

Silence.

For a single heartbeat, the world stood still.

Then—

A thud.

Jerry staggered.

Blood trickled down his temple.

His men froze.

Blinking.

Disbelieving.

Then—

A voice.

Mickey.

Desperate.

“Run!”

Rocky stood, chest heaving.

Hands shaking.

Then—

A shove.

Mickey—pushing him.

“Go, damn it!”

Rocky’s breath came sharp.

His eyes flicked to Melissa.

He couldn’t leave.

Wouldn’t.

But—

Melissa’s lips moved.

A whisper.

“Go.”

His heart twisted.

Then—

A roar.

Jerry.

“Don’t just stand there—”

A sharp inhale.

“Kill him!!!.”

A gun cocked.

Then—

A step.

Rocky turned.

And ran.

Shots rang behind him.

Footsteps.

Shouts.

Blood pounded in his ears.

His breath burned.

The Collins mansion.

Lavish.

Golden chandeliers. Velvet drapes. The scent of fresh roses hanging in the air.

In the parlor—

Sophia.

Leg crossed, fingers tapping against the glass table.

Across from her—

Elizabeth.

A diamond bracelet glittering on her wrist.

They sipped tea.

Talked.

Laughed.

“I saw the new LV bag,” Elizabeth mused, stirring her tea. “It’s gorgeous.”

Sophia smirked.

“I have it.”

A tilt of her head.

“Fifty grand.”

Elizabeth blinked.

Sophia leaned back, smug.

“If you want, I’ll tell my husband to get you one.”

Elizabeth chuckled.

“Ah, your husband is so useful.”

A slow sip.

Then—

Her lips curled.

“Unlike that useless Rocky.”

Laughter.

A shared sneer.

Then—

Their phones rang.

Both.

At once.

Sophia chuckled, setting her cup down.

“Good news, I’m sure.”

She stood.

Turned.

Left to take her call.

Elizabeth exhaled, shaking her head.

Then—

A swipe.

A press.

“Hello?”

A voice.

Sharp.

Ragged.

Angry.

Jerry.

“You old bitch.”

Elizabeth stiffened.

Her fingers curled.

“What—”

“Shut up.”

A pause.

Then—

“You must want to die.”

Elizabeth’s breath hitched.

Jerry’s voice was low.

Dark.

“Do you know what your in-law did to me?”

Elizabeth frowned.

“In-law?”

Jerry growled.

“Don’t play dumb, woman.”

A sharp inhale.

“Which in-law do you have—”

A snarl.

“That goes by the name Rocky?”

Silence.

Elizabeth’s stomach dropped.

“Rocky?”

A whisper.

Jerry exhaled through his teeth.

“How the hell did he get here?”

The line—

Dead.

Elizabeth’s pulse pounded.

Then—

Footsteps.

Sophia.

Re-entering the parlor.

A frown.

A phone gripped tight.

“There’s trouble.”

Elizabeth’s lips parted.

Sophia exhaled.

“Rocky.”

A sharp look.

“He escaped.”

Elizabeth stiffened.

Sophia’s fingers tapped against her phone.

“I thought I made myself clear.”

A sneer.

“They were supposed to kill him.”

A slow inhale.

A clipped exhale.

Then—

Her grip tightened.

“They better fix this.”

Or—

“They better act like they never did business with me.”

A press.

A beep.

The call—

Ended.

Sophia turned.

Met her mother’s gaze.

Elizabeth inhaled sharply.

Her grip tightened around the phone.

“It’s Jerry.”

Her voice was low.

Measured.

“He must have caused calamity for Jerry to call with such rage.”

Sophia scoffed.

A slow blink.

Then—

A tilt of her head.

“Where did you even get Rocky?”

Her voice was sharp.

Edged with irritation.

Elizabeth exhaled.

“One man,” Sophia muttered.

Her fingers tapped against the glass table—sharp.

Rhythmic.

“Just one damn man is causing all this trouble.”

A pause.

Then—

She scoffed.

“If one more person speaks of Rocky again—”

A sharp inhale.

“I will go crazy.”

Then—

Ding.

The doorbell.

Elizabeth stiffened.

Sophia’s gaze flicked up.

Tense.

Silent.

Then—

Another ding.

Elizabeth exhaled, smoothing her dress.

She turned.

Stepped toward the door.

Then—

A slow pull.

The door creaked open.

And—

Her breath hitched.

A man.

Tall.

Poised.

Dressed in an immaculate black suit.

His silver hair gleamed under the chandelier’s light.

Cool.

Unbothered.

Elizabeth’s stomach twisted.

She knew him.

Everyone did.

Mr. Alfred.

The butler.

But not just any butler.

The butler of Goldberg.

The wealthiest among the wealthiest.

Elizabeth’s throat went dry.

She swallowed.

Then—

A stammer.

“M-Mr. Alfred.”

Her fingers curled against the doorframe.

“What…what are you doing here?”

Alfred’s expression didn’t shift.

Calm.

Collected.

“I am looking for a young man.”

A pause.

Then—

He met her eyes.

“Goes by the name Rocky.”

Elizabeth’s stomach dropped.

Rocky.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Sophia would lose her mind.

She forced a breath.

A weak chuckle.

Then—

A strained, “What did Rocky do this time?”

Respect in her tone.

Careful.

Alfred didn’t blink.

“Nothing.”

A pause.

“I would simply like to see him.”

Elizabeth’s lips parted.

Then—

A slow exhale.

“He’s not home.”

Alfred tilted his head.

Silent.

Measuring.

Then—

A slow nod.

“I see.”

He stepped back.

A pause.

Then—

A quiet, unreadable smile.

“I’ll return.”

Then—

A turn.

A step.

A car door opened.

Then—

Shut.

Elizabeth’s breath came slow.

Shaky.

Then—

A voice.

Sophia’s.

Flat.

Cold.

“Who was that?”

Elizabeth turned.

Fingers trembling.

A slow inhale.

Then—

Her voice.

Low.

Tense.

“…Alfred.”

Sophia stilled.

Eyes narrowing.

Then—

A frown.

“What does Goldberg’s butler want with Rocky?”