Chapter 2

The House Rules

Inside Boss’s Spot, the day began like any other — water roaring through hoses, the clang of tools in the backroom, and the thick scent of cheap soap and diesel was clinging to the air.

Rico dragged the squeegee across the car’s windshield, his muscles sore from another night on the floor. He hadn’t slept. Not really. Not after whatever the hell had happened between him and The Boss.

He wasn’t sure what to call it.

It wasn’t sex. Not even seduction. But it also wasn’t nothing.

It was a test, a draw of lines and a shifting of power.

And he had walked away — still standing.

That was enough for now.

“You gonna finish that car or let it roast in soap?” came a voice beside him.

Rico blinked and looked to his left. Jaylen was leaning on the next car, long arms crossed, braided hair tied back. His eyes were sharp, but there was a hint of curiosity in them today. Less hostility and more study.

“I’m finishing,” Rico muttered, dragging the squeegee again.

Jaylen smirked. “You’ve lasted longer than most.”

“Most what?”

"Smartnesse!"

Rico didn’t respond. He just rinsed the soap off and stepped back. Jaylen fell in beside him, the two of them walking toward the staff area.

“You gonna tell me what happened last night?” Jaylen asked.

“No.”

Jaylen chuckled. “Good. You’re learning.”

They slipped into the back, where the staff lockers stood between a vending machine ran lukewarm at best. Jaylen leaned on the wall, his arms still crossed.

“You got a smoke?” Rico asked.

Jaylen tossed him one and lit his own.

“So, you’ve been here a while?”

“Four years.”

“That’s a long time for a place like this.”

“You stop counting after the first two. After that, you either belong or disappear.” Jaylen struggled.

“How many disappeared?” He asked.

Jaylen’s jaw tightened. “Enough.”

“So what’s the real deal here? The job, the shop, the Boss? No one talks.” Rico asked.

“Because talking gets you watched,” Jaylen said. “And being watched too closely here? That’s never good.”

“I want to know the rules.” He asked, leaning against his lockers

Jaylen took a long drag, his eyes were narrowed. “You sure about that?” He asked.

“I’m not stupid. Something’s going on here. The others — they walk like they’re carrying glass inside them. Felix flinches when a door shuts. Marco cries in his sleep. I’ve seen it. This ain’t just about car washes and burgers.”

“You’re right. It’s not.”

“Then tell me.”

Jaylen hesitated. Then he lowered his voice. “There are rules. Not the ones taped to the break room wall — the real ones! The ones that keep you alive.”

“I’m listening.” He said.

"The House Rules!"

Rule One: Don’t Get Too Comfortable.

“You might think you’re safe here. You’re not. You’re tolerated — for now. Boss picks who stays and who vanishes. It ain’t about your work ethic or charm. It’s about how well you bend without breaking.”

“I’m not bending for anyone.” Rico frowned.

“You say that now.” Jaylen said with a tiring smile.

Rule Two: When You’re Called, You Go.

“The intercom isn’t optional. Doesn’t matter if you’re asleep, working, bleeding — when he calls, you answer. You don’t make him wait. You don’t ask questions. You show up clean.”

Rico thought of the way The Boss’s voice had crackled through the speaker. Smooth and deadly. “And if you don’t go?”

Jaylen looked him dead in the eyes. “No one’s ever not gone. But some have come back… different.”

Rule Three: Don’t Fall in Love.

“With him and with anyone, not here. Love makes you weak, and weakness gets exploited. Some boys tried to love him. One tried to save him. That one was gone before the week was over. The others? Still here. But not all the way.”

“I don’t love anyone.” Rico yelled.

“Good, keep it that way.”

Rule Four: Never Go Upstairs Unless You’re Asked.

Jaylen tapped the metal doorframe behind them. “That’s his space. Everything upstairs — the office, the private room and the cameras — it belongs to him. Trespass and you won’t see tomorrow.”

“What does he do in there?” Rico asked with a curiosity in his eyes.

“He breaks people. Silently. With hands or words or… whatever he feels like that night.”

Rico swallowed. His throat was dry.

Rule Five: Someone Is Always Watching.

“There are cameras in every room. Not just security — surveillance. That’s why the floors are always spotless. That’s why we eat in silence. That’s why no one dares to touch each other unless given permission.”

Rico looked toward the ceiling. “Even in the bathroom?”

“Especially the bathroom.” Jaylen said with a hollow laughter.

Rule Six: Never Talk About the Past.

“Whatever brought you here? Leave it at the door. Trauma makes you prey. Pity gets you chained. Boss likes broken things. But only if he’s the one who broke them.”

“So we’re just… what? His playthings?” Rico clenching his jaw.

“Some call it survival, while some call it slavery but others think it’s better than sleeping on concrete.” Jaylen tossed his cigarette in the sink. “Pick your poison.”

Rico didn’t speak for a while. He stared at the locker door in front of him. Dented, scratched and painted over too many times.

“Why are you still here?” he asked.

Jaylen blinked, surprised by the question. “Because I got nowhere else to go.”

“No friends? No family?”

“I had a sister, she got married. She said I’d embarrass her. My ex put me on the street with nothing but my name. After that? This place… it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

He understood, the streets didn’t offer second chances, just slower deaths.

“But here’s the part no one tells you: The Boss — he doesn’t just want obedience. He wants devotion. He wants you to need him.” Jaylen sighed.

“I don’t need anyone.” Rico said with his gaze hardened.

“That’s what I said, until I met him.” Jaylen said.

Later That Night

The shop closed at midnight. The lights were off and the doors locked.

Rico was sitting alone in the sleeping quarters, staring at the intercom speaker in the ceiling.

It hadn’t called him tonight.

It hadn’t called anyone.

"Very strange!"

The silence felt heavier than any scream.

Across the room, Felix mumbled in his sleep. Ty rolled over, clutching a pillow too tightly. Marco was already snoring. Jaylen sat upright in his bed, back against the wall, reading a worn paperback under the bedside light.

Rico lay down, the black uniform shirt still clinging to his skin, still stinking of soap and heat.

He didn’t sleep.

He listened.

To the silence.

To the stillness.

To the tension that never quite left the building.

In the Surveillance Room

The Boss sat still, his eyes were fixed on the monitor screen.

Room 3A. Rico. Still awake.

Even now, after everything, the boy refused to close his eyes.

The Boss took a drag from his cigarette.

Defiant, he thought.

But not invincible.

He pressed a button, bringing the footage of Room 2 — Jaylen — into focus. Then Room 4 — Felix — twitching in his sleep.

He watched them all.

Like chess pieces waiting for the next move.

He picked up a glass of bourbon, swirled the liquid.

Rico had changed something in the atmosphere. Shattered the routine.

The Boss wasn’t sure if he liked it… or if he needed to destroy it.

His finger were hovering over the intercom switch.

But he didn’t press it.

Not tonight.

The Next Morning!

Rico awoke with his fists clenched. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep.

Jaylen was already up, lacing his boots. “No calls last night,” he said, not looking up.

“I noticed.”

“It happens sometimes,” Jaylen added. “Quiet before a storm.”

“Is he testing us?” Rico asked.

“Always.”

Rico sat up. His back was cracking and his skin still felt watched.

“I don’t like this place.”

Jaylen stood. “No one does.”

“Then why don’t you all leave?”

Jaylen stared at him.

“You don’t walk away from the devil when you’ve already signed his guestbook.”