Rise of the Street King

Chapter 14 – Blood Oath

The silence after the battle was heavier than the smoke.

Jayden pressed his hand to the wound on his ribs, fingers slick with blood. His shirt clung to his skin, torn and soaked, but he forced himself to breathe slow, steady. The laundromat was a ruin—broken dryers, shattered glass, blood splattered across the tiles. The only sound was the occasional groan from the wounded and the faint drip… drip… drip of a leaking pipe.

He swallowed the copper taste in his mouth. Razor’s laugh still echoed in his head, jagged and cruel.

“I’ll take it back,” Jayden whispered again, the words trembling but stubborn. His voice carried no weight against the silence, but it was all he had left.

Kade leaned against the doorway, rifle limp in his hands. His usually sharp face was slack with exhaustion, jaw tight, eyes burning. Aria sat on the floor near the toppled machines, pressing fabric against the bullet graze on her arm, her breaths shallow. Hassan lay stretched out, pale as ash, clutching his stomach where blood seeped through his fingers.

Jayden dragged himself toward them. Every step was a war. His vision blurred, but he refused to fall.

“We’re not finished,” he rasped.

Kade’s eyes snapped toward him, fierce and accusing. “Not finished? Look at us, Jay! Hassan’s dying, Aria’s shot, you’re bleeding out, and that bastard walked away with everything. You call this not finished?”

Jayden’s teeth clenched. “We’re still alive.”

“Barely.”

Aria raised her head, her face pale but calm. “Kade… he’s right. If we’re breathing, it’s not over.”

Kade’s laugh was hollow, bitter. “You think Razor’s scared of us now? He’s got the case, he’s got men, he’s got half the slums trembling at his name. And us? We’ve got wounds and broken promises.”

Jayden staggered closer, planting his hand on the wall for support. “No. We’ve got something he’ll never have.”

Kade’s brow furrowed. “What? Enlighten me.”

Jayden’s eyes burned. “Nothing to lose.”

For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Then Hassan coughed, spitting red onto the tiles. His voice was a faint rasp, but it cut through the air. “He’s right.”

Jayden dropped to his knees beside him. “Save your strength.”

Hassan’s hand trembled, reaching for Jayden’s arm. His grip was weak, but his gaze steady. “Strength… isn’t about how much blood you’ve got left. It’s about what you do with the little you’ve got.” His lips twisted into the shadow of a smile. “Razor thinks he won tonight. Let him think it. But you—” He pressed a bloodied finger into Jayden’s chest. “—you make sure he never sleeps easy again.”

Jayden’s throat tightened. He swallowed hard, nodding once.

Kade looked away, jaw grinding. Aria’s hand trembled as she tied a knot in the bandage around her arm. Doubt hung thick in the air, but so did something else expectation.

Jayden dragged himself upright, chest heaving. “Then swear it. All of you. Right here, tonight. We’re not crawling away like dogs. We’re not bowing to Razor. If we bleed, we bleed together. If we die, we die standing. Swear it, or walk away.”

Aria’s eyes widened slightly. Kade’s mouth opened, then shut.

Jayden reached down, grabbed a shard of broken glass from the floor. Without hesitation, he drew it across his own palm. The sting was sharp, hot, but he held it out, blood dripping. “On my blood. I’ll tear everything from Razor’s hands, even if it kills me.”

The silence stretched. Then, slowly, Aria stood. Her face was pale but fierce. She took the shard, sliced her own palm, and pressed it to Jayden’s. Blood mingled, warm and real.

“On my blood,” she said, voice steady. “We don’t run.”

Kade stared at them, conflict raging in his eyes. His rifle trembled in his grip. “This is madness,” he muttered. “We should be planning to disappear, not chasing suicide.”

Jayden met his gaze. “Then walk, Kade. No shame in it. But if you stay, you bleed with us.”

Kade’s jaw clenched. He looked at Aria, at Hassan lying broken but watching, at Jayden’s hand held out like a challenge. Slowly, he exhaled.

“Damn you, Jay,” he muttered, slicing his palm. He pressed it to theirs. “On my blood. We don’t run.”

The three of them stood, blood dripping onto the ruined tiles. Hassan coughed again, weak laughter rattling his chest. “Didn’t think… I’d live long enough… to see kids swearing oaths like old kings.” His hand fumbled for the shard, and Jayden caught it, guiding his trembling fingers.

“Don’t,” Jayden urged.

Hassan’s eyes were stubborn. “I’ve still got breath. That’s enough.” He nicked his palm, the cut shallow but enough for blood to well. He pressed it against Jayden’s hand. “On my blood.”

Jayden’s chest tightened. Their blood mingled, four against a city that wanted them dead. Broken, beaten, but unyielding.

The Blood Oath.

Jayden pulled back, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Then it’s settled. Razor thinks tonight broke us. But it didn’t. Tonight made us. From now on, no running, no hiding. We fight. And we take back what’s ours.”

Aria’s lips curved into the faintest smile. Kade shook his head, but his eyes burned now with grim fire. Hassan closed his eyes, the smile still lingering on his pale face.

For a moment, they almost believed.

Two Days Later

The laundromat stank of bleach and ash. Word had already spread across the slums Razor had humiliated Jayden, beaten him bloody, and stolen something worth more than gold. Every corner whispered about it. Some laughed. Some pitied. Most just shook their heads.

Jayden limped through the narrow alleys, cloak pulled tight around his battered body. Children pointed at him; old women spat on the ground. “The boy who lost to Razor,” someone muttered. “Thought he could be a king.”

The words bit deep, but Jayden forced his face blank. He’d let them think what they wanted. Words were wind. Only actions mattered.

At the hideout a damp basement beneath a collapsed building the crew sat in uneasy silence. Malikah fiddled with a knife, eyes downcast. Tariq leaned against the wall, arms folded, lips pressed tight. They hadn’t been at the laundromat they’d only heard the aftermath.

“You made us a joke,” Malikah muttered. “Razor walks free with the case, and now every hustler thinks we’re weak.”

Jayden stepped closer, his shadow falling across her. His voice was calm, too calm. “Do you want out?”

She blinked, startled. “What?”

“Do you want out?” His gaze was steady. “No shame if you do. But if you stay, you bleed with us.”

Malikah’s jaw tightened. She looked away, muttering something too low to catch.

Tariq broke the silence. “Word is, Razor’s paying. Ten thousand for your head, Jay.”

The room froze.

Jayden’s stomach sank, but he didn’t flinch. “So it begins.”

Kade swore. “We’re already hunted, and now he’s making it official. Every rat with a blade will be sniffing after you.”

Aria’s voice was quiet, but steady. “Then we move first.”

Jayden nodded. His ribs ached, his arm throbbed, his body screamed weakness but his eyes burned with something harder. “He thinks fear will cage me. He’s wrong. If the streets want my blood, they’ll learn what it costs.”

A knock rattled the door. Sharp, hurried.

Everyone froze.

Another knock, harder this time. Malikah’s hand went to her knife. Kade raised his rifle. Jayden moved to the door, every nerve on edge.

“Who is it?” he barked.

A voice whispered through the crack. “Message… from Razor.”

Jayden’s pulse thundered. He unlocked the chain, opened the door an inch.

A boy stood there—skinny, no older than twelve. His face was smeared with soot, eyes wide with fear. In his hand, a bloodstained rag.

“He said to give you this,” the boy stammered. He dropped the rag and bolted into the night.

Jayden bent, picked it up with trembling fingers.

It was a strip of cloth. Torn. Familiar.

Aria gasped. “That’s Hassan’s shirt.”

The fabric was soaked in fresh blood.

Jayden’s vision narrowed, rage flooding through him. Razor hadn’t just stolen the case. He’d struck again.

And this time, it was personal.

Jayden clenched the bloodied cloth, eyes burning with fury. His voice was a growl, low and deadly.

“Razor wants war? Then war is what he’ll get.”

Outside, the city buzzed with whispers of the bounty. Every shadow seemed to carry a blade.

The hunt had begun.