Jimmy knelt there, clutching Lucian’s lifeless body as though he could will him back to life through sheer force of emotion. His fingers dug into Lucian’s clothes, knuckles white from the strain. His body trembled uncontrollably, and his sobs were harsh and raw, echoing through the room.
Tears streamed down his face, unchecked, as he screamed at Lucian’s still form, venting every ounce of pain, frustration, and sorrow that had built up inside him.
“Why, Lucian?! Why the f**k would you do this?!” Jimmy’s voice cracked, sounding broken, defeated. “You stupid bastard! How could you leave us like this?!” His words were hoarse, as if each syllable was scraped from the depths of his soul, leaving him raw and hollow. He shook Lucian’s body gently, as if some part of him still believed his friend would wake up. “Didn’t we mean anything to you?
Didn’t I matter?”
Jimmy’s fingers clenched the fabric of Lucian’s hospital gown tightly, his body convulsing with sobs. His face was buried in Lucian’s chest, muffling the sounds of his cries. Every breath was a struggle, as though the pain was choking him from the inside, drowning him in its endless weight. “You didn’t need to do this. You didn’t need to give your f**king life away. We were supposed to have each other.
We were supposed to make it out together…” His voice trailed off into silence, the only sound remaining being the quiet hiccups of his grief.
Behind him, Garry stood in the corner, his hand on his forehead, staring up at the ceiling. His mind was a swirling mess of emotions grief, disbelief, and anger, all tangled together in a knot that he couldn’t begin to unravel. Muffled sobs escaped his lips, and his chest heaved with each shaky breath. His eyes were rimmed with redness, his tears threatening to spill at any moment.
He clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that were threatening to consume him.
“I should’ve been there for you, man,” Garry whispered to himself, though the words were barely audible. “We should’ve seen it coming. We should’ve done something.” He wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand, frustrated that he couldn’t hold it together. But the grief was too much. The thought of Lucian lying there, cold and lifeless, was too much to bear.
Dr. Murphy stood off to the side, watching the scene unfold with a heavy heart. Despite the fear he had for these two men, he couldn’t help but feel sympathy for them. He had never imagined men like Jimmy and Garry, known for their ruthlessness and terrifying reputations, could be capable of such raw, genuine emotion. The sight of them breaking down over their friend over Lucian made Dr.
Murphy realize that, at the end of the day, even the hardest of hearts could still feel pain.
“Sigh… I never thought I’d see this,” Dr. Murphy muttered under his breath. The old doctor felt conflicted. He had seen death before. He had seen people break down in despair when their loved ones passed away.
But this this was different. These weren’t just ordinary people. These were men who could send entire governments into a panic with a single phone call. They were feared, respected, and known for their cold, detached ruthlessness. And yet here they were, crying like children who had lost their best friend.
He took a shaky breath, unsure of what to do. Part of him wanted to give them space, to let them grieve in their own way. But another part of him, the part that had spent years studying human psychology, knew he had to do something. He couldn’t just stand there while they fell apart in front of him.
Summoning the courage he didn’t know he had, Dr. Murphy took a small step forward. His body was trembling, his heart racing as he approached Jimmy, who was still hunched over Lucian’s body, crying with a grief so deep it was almost palpable.
The doctor’s hands shook as he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the small, black smartphone that Lucian had given him the one he had been instructed to pass on to whoever came looking for him.
Dr. Murphy hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to interrupt the raw display of sorrow before him. But he knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He swallowed hard, gathering his resolve, and took another step closer.
“Uhh… sir,” Dr. Murphy said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He hoped to get Jimmy’s attention without setting him off. But Jimmy didn’t react. He was too lost in his grief, too broken to hear anything beyond the sound of his own sobs.
The doctor swallowed nervously, his hand tightening around the phone. He didn’t want to disturb Jimmy, especially not in a moment like this. But he knew he had no choice. He couldn’t risk something terrible happening, not with emotions running this high. If Jimmy or Garry snapped in their sorrow, the whole hospital could be in danger.
“Sir,” Dr. Murphy repeated, his voice trembling slightly. Still, Jimmy didn’t respond.
The doctor’s heartbeat quickened, and he knew he had to try again. This time, he reached out and placed a gentle hand on Jimmy’s shoulder, immediately regretting the decision the moment his hand made contact. He could feel the tension in Jimmy’s body, the raw power beneath his skin, and for a second, Dr. Murphy thought he had just signed his own death warrant.
Jimmy’s body trembled under the doctor’s touch, but he didn’t move. The muscles in his back were hard as stone, tight with a mixture of grief and barely-contained fury.
Dr. Murphy gulped nervously, feeling the sheer weight of the man he had just dared to touch. The trembling in his hands worsened, but he couldn’t back out now. He had already crossed the line. “Sir,” he whispered again, gently shaking Jimmy’s shoulder.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Jimmy lifted his head. His eyes, red and swollen from crying, locked onto the doctor. The sorrow on his face was overwhelming, but beneath it all was something much darker a rage that burned deep within him, just waiting for an excuse to be unleashed.
Dr. Murphy froze, his heart pounding in his chest as Jimmy’s gaze narrowed on him. There was no softness in his eyes, no sign of mercy. The weight of his stare was like standing before a hurricane, the air thick with danger.
In an instant, Jimmy’s hand shot out. He grabbed Dr. Murphy by the neck, pulling him up from the floor as if he weighed nothing. The doctor’s legs dangled helplessly, his hands instinctively clawing at Jimmy’s iron grip as panic set in.
“What the fk did you just do?” Jimmy hissed through clenched teeth, his voice a low, dangerous growl. His eyes were wild, filled with a madness that bordered on insanity. “What the hell gave you the right to touch me?!” He pulled the doctor closer, towering over him with his imposing height, his face inches from Dr. Murphy’s as he growled, “Give me one good reason not to blow your fking brains out.”
Dr. Murphy’s eyes widened in terror, his body convulsing as the full weight of the threat sank in. The cold steel of Jimmy’s gun pressed against his forehead, and he could feel the deadly pressure building in the barrel, waiting to explode.
“No, no, please!” Dr. Murphy choked, his voice cracking as fear overtook him. His hands trembled violently as he tried to point to the phone still clutched in his other hand. “L-Lucian… Lucian told me to give this to you. He… he told me to give you this phone, please…!”
Jimmy’s finger hovered over the trigger, ready to squeeze. But the doctor’s words broke through the fog of his rage. His grip loosened just enough for Dr. Murphy to breathe, and he turned his head to see the phone the doctor was holding.
Without a word, Jimmy released the doctor, shoving him aside with a rough push that sent him stumbling back. Dr. Murphy nearly collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he backed away. Jimmy snatched the phone from his outstretched hand, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as he turned it over in his palm.
He had no idea what the phone contained, but if Lucian had left it for him, then it had to be important.
Garry, still leaning over Lucian’s body, turned to look at the phone in Jimmy’s hand. His sobs had quieted, but his eyes were still swollen and wet from crying. “What is it, Jimmy?” he asked, his voice hoarse from screaming. He wiped at his face, trying to blink away the tears, but they kept coming. “What did Lucian leave behind?”
Jimmy didn’t answer at first. His hands trembled as he held the phone. He didn’t want to open it. Didn’t want to face whatever message Lucian had left for him. It was too much. Too soon.
But he knew he had no choice. Whatever was on this phone, he needed to see it.
With shaking fingers,
