Fake Dating The Bad Boy-Chapter 126: Surrender

Justin – POV

The cave felt colder than it had ever been.

My breath fogged in the air, chest still heaving, knuckles raw and split. The taste of blood coated my tongue, metallic and bitter. Sweat dripped into my eyes, but I barely blinked.

They had her.

And I was out of time.

I rose from the floor, staggering for a second like a drunk, before my spine locked itself back into steel. Rage still roared under my skin, but the strategist in me clawed for air, fighting for control.

I couldn’t walk blindly into their trap.

But I couldn’t do nothing, either.

The thought of her — strapped to a table, eyes wide with terror, those bastards calling her Number Twelve again — it nearly broke me. Nearly. But not completely.

Because she needed me whole.

"Think, you fucking idiot." The voice in my head wasn’t the monster this time. It was the cold, ruthless part of me that had kept us all alive back then. The part June had hated — until she realized it had saved her.

I paced the cave, every step echoing like a drumbeat.

They wanted me alone.

They’d made it clear: any sign of backup, and they’d kill her. And the tone in that man’s voice told me he meant it. This wasn’t an empty threat.

But something didn’t add up.

They’d gone to extraordinary lengths to get her. Weeks of surveillance, the perfect night, the perfect moment. They needed her — or what was inside her. The voices. The trauma. The darkness they’d planted and failed to harvest.

They wouldn’t risk losing her just to get me.

Not unless they thought I was worth more than she was.

And that thought chilled me more than anything.

I grabbed a half-broken chair, sank onto it, elbows on my knees, head in my bloodied hands.

If I go in, she dies.

If I stay out, she still dies.

Unless...

I closed my eyes, forcing the bloodlust back under, breathing through my teeth.

I needed intel. Fast.

"Rico," I barked into the new burner, voice raw. He picked up immediately, tension crackling on the line.

"Boss?"

"Trace the call that just came in. Block of five minutes ago. Scramble every resource. I need the origin, relay points, and if there’s anything else on that signal."

"Understood."

"Also—tell the team to prepare a kit. Non-lethal weapons, trackers, comms. Silent operation. No one moves yet. No one. I need eyes first."

"Got it."

"And Rico..." My voice dropped. "If they catch even a shadow of our team, they’ll kill her."

"I know, boss."

The line went dead.

Silence returned.

Except it wasn’t silent.

You could just go, you know.

Trade yourself. Bleed for her.

The monster’s voice was seductive. Sacrifice was easy. It felt noble. It felt right. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

But it wouldn’t save her.

It would just kill us both.

"Think like the devil, Justin." The words I used to whisper to myself in the facility. "Be colder than them. Be meaner than them. They can’t outplay what they can’t predict."

I rose again, pacing. The cavern walls were stained with old blood. Mine. Others’. Memories of other nights, other enemies.

The rage helped. But it wasn’t enough.

June needed the part of me she had kissed into submission. The strategist. The monster wrapped in silk.

"You think they’ll let her go? They won’t. You know they won’t."

My pulse thundered.

They needed her alive. But they needed her broken. They needed her to stop fighting. And seeing me caught, chained, defeated — that might do it.

Or it might break her completely.

Either way, they had the upper hand.

Unless I took it back.

I stared into the darkness, vision swimming.

What would she want me to do?

The answer came fast.

She wouldn’t want me to die for her.

She’d want me to fight for her.

To do what I’d always done.

Burn the whole fucking world to bring her back.

The cave’s heavy steel door creaked open.

Rico entered, face tight, breath short. He didn’t speak — just handed me a single sheet of printed data.

I scanned it.

Partial trace. Signal bounced through five relays. But origin was local. Inside the city.

They were close.

Not thousands of miles away. Not in some offshore black site.

They were here.

A plan sparked in my skull, raw and ugly.

"They’ll expect me to come alone," I rasped.

Rico’s gaze darkened. "And?"

"I will come alone." My voice was hoarse. "But not without teeth."

Rico exhaled. "What do you want us to do?"

"Build me an exit. Place trackers. Find blueprints for every building within a two-mile radius of the trace. Sewers, service tunnels, anything."

He nodded, turning to leave.

"Rico." My voice caught. "If I fail..."

He froze.

"Get her out anyway."

"I will, boss," he whispered.

He left.

I sank back into the chair, lungs burning.

The monster inside me was still screaming for blood.

But the man — the one June had saved, the one who still loved — was planning.

And in that fractured space between the two, I whispered to the darkness:

"Hold on, baby. I’m coming."

The burner phone buzzed again.

Unknown number.

One hour. Come alone. Or she dies.

I closed my eyes.

Then opened them.

Cold. Focused.

And utterly, absolutely ready to kill the world to get her back.

********

I stood in front of the mirror bolted to the cave wall — an old, cracked thing that had seen more of my blood than my reflection. My eyes were wild. My shirt was torn, stained with rust-red smears that were not mine. My knuckles were raw, skin shredded where I’d punched stone walls between planning and screaming.

June would hate to see me like this.

The monster in my head roared: This is suicide. This is a fucking trap.

And the strategist whispered back: Yes. And?

Because there was no move left that didn’t cost me something.

I would go. Alone.

But not unprepared.

I pulled a fresh black shirt over my head, hiding the blood and bruises, and buttoned it to the collar. Over it went the tailored jacket — heavy, sharp, armored beneath the silk lining.

Hidden blades in the cuffs. A tracker in my boot heel. Ceramic knives stitched into the inside seam of my waistband — wouldn’t trigger a scanner. A final blade taped to my forearm, edge so thin it could part breath itself.

It wasn’t enough.

Nothing ever was, when the price was her.

But it was something.

Rico returned, silent as a ghost. His eyes raked over me, catching the details. "You’re really going."

"I have to."

"They won’t let you go."

"I know."

"And her?"

I swallowed. My throat hurt, raw from shouting hours before. "They might keep her alive. For leverage. For experiments. But not if I stay away."

Rico’s face twisted, grief and fury tangled into a single knot. He looked twenty years older in that moment.

"Boss—" he began.

I cut him off. "Don’t call me boss. Not tonight."

He nodded once, jaw locked.

The burner phone in my hand vibrated again.

One hour. Come alone. No comms. No weapons. Or she dies screaming.

I read the words twice.

Then deleted them.

My pulse didn’t spike. Not this time. Fear was a luxury I’d burned out of myself.

Outside, the cave mouth yawned open into night. The city glowed in the valley below, oblivious — just lights, laughter, and drunk people who had no idea a girl was being held in hell to bait a monster.

I checked my watch. Forty minutes to move.

I turned to Rico. "If I’m not out in four hours—"

"We storm the place. We know." His voice was flat.

"And Rico—" I hesitated. "If she doesn’t make it—"

"No." His voice cracked. "Don’t say it."

I swallowed. "Then burn it all."

His eyes met mine. "With pleasure."

The drive down the mountain was silent. My car, black and armored, ate the curves of the road in hungry swallows. The engine’s growl was the only thing that kept my mind from fracturing.

Every tree I passed looked like the ghost of her.

Every streetlight cast shadows that whispered too late.

The voices inside me weren’t quiet. They hissed and jeered, replaying her screams that I’d never heard, but imagined in twisted detail. They called me coward. Traitor. They told me I’d never be fast enough, ruthless enough, to save her.

And the worst part?

They were right.

I parked three blocks away from the coordinates they’d sent. Neutral ground. A derelict warehouse, windows boarded and tagged with graffiti.

The monster wanted to run. To charge in teeth-first, rip them apart before they could blink.

The strategist forced my hands open, breathing slow. Wait. Listen. Watch.

I stepped into the night air.

Cool breeze. Trash drifting across the asphalt. My boots crunching broken glass.

I walked down the cracked pavement toward the warehouse. Every step felt like walking toward my own execution. My shoulders itched for a rifle’s weight. My palm twitched for a blade.

Instead, empty.

They’d see me. Alone. Obedient.

Surrendering.

At the rust-eaten double doors, I paused.

I thought of June.

The way her laugh curled around my ribs like sunlight. The fury in her eyes when she defied me. The softness in her voice when she called my name, only mine.

I closed my eyes and said, in a whisper only the monster could hear: "I’m coming for you, love."

Then I stepped inside.