Book 3 Chapter1: BULLIED

Ryder’s POV “Hand it over, Ryder Stone! Don’t play games with us, you useless Fatso!” The gang’s voices echoed like a death toll across the cracked restroom tiles, each word sharper than the fists crashing against me. My back slammed into a basin, the porcelain groaning from the impact as another punch landed square on my cheekbone. “I told you—I don’t have anything!” I gasped, blood spilling from the corner of my mouth, painting my teeth red. “Liar,” one of them hissed. “Hit him again! Let’s see how long the Fatso keeps up the act.” A kick, sharp and cruel, drove into my ribs. Something cracked. My breath hitched as my knees buckled, but I refused to fall—not in front of them. Not while I still had a shred of dignity. “You’ll regret this,” I rasped, tasting blood, defiance lacing every syllable. The leader stepped forward—silent for a moment. Then, with venom in their voice: “You really think someone like you could stand up to us? Look at yourself.” A laugh followed, low and scathing.