Chapter 3 – "Bike Heist"
Southbridge, 7:45 AM
The neighborhood was slowly waking up. The smell of burnt toast mixed with car exhaust. Jayce stepped out onto Maya's porch with a toothpick in his mouth, watching two crackheads argue over a stolen shopping cart.
Rell pulled up, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Yo, you remember OG Brick?" Rell asked.
Jayce nodded slowly. "Skinny dude? Used to boost bikes?"
"Yeah, well, he's back. Says some rich boy from Westvale's been ridin' 'round Steelpoint on a custom Diablo 1100—chrome everything, modded engine. Real fast shit. Brick wants it."
Jayce grinned. "So what's the play?"
"We jack that shit."
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The Setup
Jayce, Rell, and Dre met up with Brick at his auto shop—a rat-infested garage held together by duct tape and broken dreams. Brick was just as twitchy and cracked out as ever, but he knew bikes like the back of his greasy-ass hand.
"Alright, listen up," Brick said, spreading a wrinkled map on the hood of his Impala. "Rich kid—name's Aiden Vaughn. Daddy owns half of Westvale. He comes through the Cliffside Loop every Sunday morning to show off his new ride. Alone. No guards. Just ego."
Keisha raised an eyebrow. "So what? We just run up and ask politely for his keys?"
Brick laughed like a hyena. "Hell nah, girl. You set up a blockade, box him in, then Jayce snatches the bike. Simple."
Jayce nodded. "Alright. Let's make this fool walk home."
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The Heist
Sunday morning came quick.
Jayce crouched behind a billboard near the loop's curve, helmet on, black gear tight. Rell and Dre had stolen a garbage truck and parked it sideways on the road, pretending it had broken down. Keisha waited on the opposite hill with a spike strip in case he tried to run.
And then—vroom.
That Diablo came roaring around the bend, shining like polished diamonds in the morning sun. The bastard even had music blasting, head nodding like he was the king of the city.
He didn't even see it coming.
Jayce burst from behind the billboard on a dirtbike, speeding downhill. The rich kid slammed the brakes as Rell yelled "Road's closed, rich boy!"
He tried to reverse.
POP—POP.
Spike strip.
Rubber shredded. Bike tumbled. Aiden hit the ground with a yelp, arms flailing like a panicked bird.
Jayce ran up, grabbed him by the collar.
"You think Steelpoint is your fuckin' playground?!"
Aiden spit blood. "Do you know who I am?! My dad will—"
BAM.
Jayce punched him dead in the jaw. "I don't give a damn if your daddy's God."
He grabbed the Diablo and revved it up. "Let's ride!"
---
The Chase
As the crew fled, sirens erupted.
Steelpoint PD. Three units, roaring up the ridge like they were ready to end someone's day.
"Split up!" Jayce yelled.
Rell and Dre peeled off to the left. Keisha threw a smoke grenade behind them to buy time. Jayce tore through back alleys and construction yards, the stolen Diablo purring like a panther beneath him.
A chopper soon followed overhead. Spotlights flicked across the streets. Voices yelled through megaphones.
"Step off the vehicle! You are under arrest!"
Jayce ducked under a low bridge, losing the chopper for a split second. That's when he saw it—a storm drain.
Without thinking, he gunned it.
Water splashed. Pipes screamed. The bike barely scraped past the concrete walls.
After ten heart-pounding minutes, he was clear.
---
Back at the Shop
Brick was practically drooling when Jayce rolled in on the Diablo.
"Holy mother of mercy," he muttered. "She's beautiful."
"Clean it up. Take off the tags. I want this thing ready for the streets," Jayce ordered, throwing the helmet on the workbench.
Rell and Keisha walked in, laughing.
"That rich prick probably still lyin' on the pavement cryin' for his nanny," Keisha said.
Dre wiped sweat from his brow. "Yo, I thought we were done, man. Them cops were on my ass like white on rice."
Jayce looked around.
"One thing's for sure—we still got it."
---
Later That Night…
The crew was posted up at Maya's spot again, drinks in hand. Jayce leaned on the bike, admiring it in the moonlight.
"Feels good to win one," Rell said, handing Jayce a blunt.
Jayce took a drag, exhaled slowly. "Yeah… but we just painted a big ass target on our backs."
Just then, Tone pulled up. Again. This time, he didn't get out of his car. He just watched them through the tinted window.
Jayce stared back, unmoving.
"I don't trust that muthafucka," Keisha muttered.
Jayce nodded. "We keep our eyes open. And our clips loaded."
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