Chapter fifty one
Shane
The Kingsmen runner pissed himself ten minutes before Riven got there.
Honestly? I didn’t blame him. Hatchie had dislocated two of the guy’s fingers already, Deck kept pacing around the basement muttering threats under his breath, and Skylar was sitting on the pool table cleaning blood off a knife like this was all mildly inconvenient instead of fucking horrifying.
The clubhouse felt different lately. Not home anymore, but a war room.
Everybody was angrier. Meaner. Tired in ways sleep couldn’t fix.
Nadia being unconscious hollowed the place out.
She was everywhere in this building despite being gone for so long.
We may have been called the Phantoms, but her presence still haunted these walls.
It was some fucked up ghost shit. The runner sat zip-tied to a metal chair in the middle of the basement, shaking violently, while Deck leaned against the wall beside him, smoking
. “You gonna answer the question this time?” Deck asked calmly. The guy swallowed hard.
“I already told you what I know.”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“And I already told you that answer sucks.”
The runner looked to be maybe nineteen. Young enough that he still had acne scars along his jawline.
Definitely not important enough to know much, but the shipment schedules in his car said otherwise.
Olympus insignias, tunnel routes, delivery times.
Enough to matter. The basement door slammed open upstairs. Then, heavy footsteps descended fast.
Riven appeared, looking genuinely feral. Rain soaked through his black hoodie, dark circles hollowed beneath his eyes, and there was something deeply wrong in the way he moved lately. Too sharp. Too twitchy. Like he was seconds away from skinning somebody alive at all times.
The runner immediately recoiled in the chair. Smart. Riven didn’t say hello. Didn’t ask questions. He walked straight up to the guy and slammed both hands onto the table hard enough to make the metal legs screech across the concrete.
“What’s restructuring?” The runner flinched violently.
“I-I don’t know-” Riven grabbed him by the throat instantly. The room tensed.
“Bad answer.”
“Riven,” I warned carefully. He ignored me. Of course he did. The runner clawed weakly at Riven’s wrist.
“I swear to God-”
“You people keep saying that like your god means anything to me.” The words came out low and cold. Not yelling, but somehow worse. Riven leaned closer.
“You put my wife in a coma.” The runner’s face went pale.
“I didn’t touch her-”
“Wrong answer.” Then he slammed the guy’s head into the table. Hard. Blood instantly splattered across the shipment papers.
“Riven!” I moved first, grabbing him by the shoulder before he could do it again. Riven jerked away violently.
“Don’t fucking touch me.” The entire basement went silent. Because for half a second there? I genuinely thought he might swing on me too. I stared at him carefully.
“You take your meds?” Riven laughed once.
That was answer enough. Fuck. The runner whimpered from the chair, blood running down his nose now. Skylar slid off the pool table finally.
“You’re gonna kill him before we get answers.”
“Good.”
“We need him alive.”
“Why?” Riven snapped.
“So he can tell us more cryptic cult bullshit?”
The runner suddenly started shaking harder. Not from Riven. From something else. His eyes kept darting toward the shipment schedules on the table. Interesting. I noticed it immediately. So did Deck.
“You recognize something?” Deck asked quietly.
The runner froze. Too late, Riven noticed too. His expression changed instantly, becoming predatory. He grabbed the papers and spread them across the table aggressively.
“Show me.” The runner stayed silent. Riven cocked the gun at his hip.
“Show. Me.” Slowly, trembling, the runner pointed toward one of the route markings near the edge of the map. An old rail line cutting beneath the South side.
“Those shipments…” He whispered.
“They’re not normal.”
“What does that mean?” I asked. He swallowed hard.
“They only move during transitions.” The basement went still. Transitions, not restructuring. Different word. Maybe more important. Riven leaned closer.
“What transitions?” The runner looked genuinely terrified now. Like even saying the wrong thing out loud might kill him.
“The gods replacing themselves.” Silence. Heavy and awful. Skylar scoffed.
“What is this, fucking mythology class?” But nobody laughed. Because Olympus believed this shit. The runner’s breathing turned uneven.
“When leadership changes happen, the routes activate. People disappear. Money moves.” Hatchie crossed his arms.
“And who’s replacing who?” The runner looked down immediately and didn’t answer. Riven grabbed his jaw hard.
“Look at me.” The guy obeyed instantly. Fear glazed his eyes completely now.
“Who?”
“…I don’t know names.” Riven tightened his grip.
“But?” The runner swallowed.
“I heard one of them talking after the crash.” Everybody in the room stilled.
“What did they say?” I asked carefully. The runner looked sick.
“They said Hades finally made his choice.”
The air physically changed. Because there it was again. Hades, always Hades. Like a shadow hanging over every piece of this nightmare. Riven went terrifyingly still.
“Choice about what?” The runner’s voice dropped to barely a whisper.
“The heir.” Nobody spoke. Then, Skylar muttered,
“…Nadia.” The runner didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to. Riven stepped backward slowly like he’d been punched.
Not emotional at first, but blank. That was always scarier.
Alexithymia hit him weird sometimes. He’d go completely numb externally right before exploding internally.
And right now? He looked hollow. Like something inside him just snapped quietly.
“She wasn’t supposed to die.” The runner blurted suddenly. Riven’s eyes snapped toward him instantly.
“What?”
“The crash wasn’t planned like that.” The basement became deadly quiet. The runner realized too late how much he’d just said. Riven moved closer again slowly.
“What do you mean?”
“I-I heard them arguing after the race.” His breathing became ragged.
“The SUV hit too hard. Somebody panicked.”
My stomach twisted. Because suddenly the crash felt even worse somehow. Not clean. Not intentional. A mistake. Nadia almost died because somebody fucked up. Riven’s face drained of color.
“They were trying to take her alive.” Deck realized quietly. The runner nodded shakily.
“The order changed afterward.” A chill spread through the room instantly.
“What order?” I asked. The guy looked directly at Riven.
“Hades said if she wouldn’t submit willingly…” He stopped, didn’t finish, but he didn’t need to. Riven suddenly smiled all wrong. The kind of smile people get right before violence.
“Everybody out.” I frowned immediately.
“Riven-”
“Out.” I stepped forward carefully.
“You need to calm down.” Riven laughed again. Short. Sharp. Unstable.
“No, I don’t.” The runner started panicking instantly. “No no no please-” Riven pulled the gun from his waistband. The entire basement erupted at once.
“Jesus Christ-”
“Don’t fucking do this-”
But he already had the barrel pressed against the runner’s forehead. And the terrifying part? His hand wasn’t shaking at all.
“I’m gonna ask one last question,” Riven said quietly. The runner sobbed openly now.
“Where are they taking people?”
“I don’t know!” Riven cocked the hammer back.
“I swear!” Then suddenly, a voice echoed from upstairs.
“Deck!” Abby screamed panickedly.
Everybody froze. Abby’s footsteps thundered down the basement stairs fast enough to nearly trip over themselves. The second she appeared, I knew something was wrong. Her face had gone completely white.
“What happened?” Deck demanded. She looked directly at Riven.
“The hospital.” My stomach dropped instantly. Abby’s voice broke.
“She’s gone.”