Rise of the Street King

Chapter 2 – The Hunt Begins

The sound of boots pounding against pavement was louder than Jayden’s heartbeat. Sirens screamed, bouncing off rusted rooftops.

“Stop right there!” a cop shouted.

Jayden didn’t look back. His legs pumped harder, pain stabbing through his cracked ribs. Every breath was fire, but slowing down meant cuffs—or a bullet.

He darted through a narrow alley, slipping between trash bins and laundry lines. The stench of rotting food burned his nose, but he kept running. Behind him, flashlights cut through the dark like spears.

Think, Jayden, think.

He knew these streets better than anyone. Every shortcut, every blind corner, every rat hole. If he could just reach Old Hassan’s auto shop, he could vanish. Hassan didn’t ask questions, and his back door led to half the block’s hidden tunnels.

But the cops were faster than he thought.

One beam of light swung close, landing on him.

“There! The kid with the hoodie!”

Jayden cursed under his breath. He pushed harder, sneakers skidding on wet pavement. His chest screamed, his ribs felt like glass cracking with every step, but he didn’t stop.

A voice echoed in his head—Razor’s laugh, Musa’s blood on his knife. Tonight he wasn’t just running from cops. He was running from the life he’d just chosen.

Suddenly, a cop burst from a side street, blocking his path. The man raised his baton. “End of the line, boy.”

Jayden’s eyes narrowed. He gripped the knife in his pocket, knuckles white. His body begged him to quit, but something inside refused.

Not tonight.

The cop lunged. Jayden ducked under the swing, ramming his shoulder into the man’s gut. The officer grunted, stumbling back. Jayden didn’t stop—he bolted past, heart slamming against his ribs.

But another voice barked behind him.

“Freeze or I shoot!”

Jayden’s blood turned to ice. He heard the metallic click of a gun being cocked.

He dove behind a dumpster, just as a bullet sparked against the brick wall inches from his head. His ears rang, adrenaline surging.

They’re gonna kill me.

“Come out, kid! We got you cornered!” one cop yelled.

Jayden pressed his back to the cold metal, chest heaving. His mind raced. If they caught him, it was over. The streets didn’t forgive weakness, and prison would eat him alive.

He glanced down at his bloody hands, then up at the fire escape above him. His only way out.

He leapt, fingers scraping the iron ladder, ribs screaming in protest. He hauled himself up, every muscle burning. Shouts erupted below as the cops gave chase.

Halfway up, his grip slipped. His body dangled, feet kicking above the alley. One cop reached up, grabbing for his ankle. Jayden kicked out wildly, boot smashing against the man’s helmet. The cop cursed and stumbled back.

Jayden pulled himself onto the first platform, rolling onto his side. He lay there, panting, the city lights spinning around him.

But he couldn’t stop. Not yet.

He forced himself up and climbed higher, roof after roof, until he was above the city. From up here, the slums stretched like a sea of broken glass and rust. The sirens still wailed below, angry and desperate.

Jayden wiped blood from his mouth, staring out over the city. For the first time, the thought hit him like a hammer.

I just made myself a target. Musa won’t forgive this. Razor won’t forgive this. And the cops already want me dead.

He clenched his fists, feeling the sting of his split knuckles.

“I don’t care. Let them come. I’ll make them choke on my name.”

A harsh wind whipped across the rooftop, carrying the echoes of sirens.

Then a new sound cut through the night—low, steady footsteps behind him.

Jayden spun, heart leaping into his throat.

A shadow stood at the far edge of the rooftop, tall and still. Too still. The figure’s face was hidden under the hood of a long coat.

Jayden’s knife slid into his hand instinctively. “Who the hell are you?”

The shadow didn’t move. Didn’t answer. Just watched.

The air felt heavier, colder. Jayden’s pulse hammered in his ears.

And then the stranger finally spoke, voice calm, almost amused.

“You’ve spilled blood tonight, boy. That makes you mine.”

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