The prince of New York crashed into my late-night bus and knocked out my teeth. He said he would repay me—with his life.
I drove the late-night bus that runs only once a month, departing at exactly 3:30 a.m. No exceptions.
The time was unusual, the location was unusual and the passengers were… strange. I’ve never seen their faces.
The old driver who trained me told me not to ask questions. If I did happen to find something out, I was supposed to pretend I didn’t know.
Tonight, as always, the bus departed right on schedule. Following the rules, I didn’t check whether the cabin was full; I simply announced, “Time’s up,” and pulled away.
But before I could even shift into gear, the bus was slammed into by a luxury car. A group of rowdy young men spilled out.
“You’ve got the nerve to block my way?”
They reeked of alcohol. They dragged me from the driver’s seat, forced me to kneel and demanded I apologize—laughing as they filmed it for social media.
The bus was filled with restless passengers.
I warned them, “If we miss the departure time, it will cost you your life.
——
I was checking my watch, waiting for the exact moment to leave, when...
BANG!
A violent crash shook the bus, jolting me forward. The steering wheel almost slipped from my hands.
Outside, the sharp screech of brakes sliced through the quiet early morning. The tires’ wail against the asphalt was unsettling in the stillness.
The driver’s compartment filled with the overpowering stench of alcohol mixed with expensive cologne. I turned and a hand suddenly seized my collar, yanking me out.
My back slammed into cold metal, making my vision explode with stars.
The man in charge was wearing crocodile-skin shoes, the cuffs of his tailored suit dusted with dirt. It was Jerry Shawn.
His black Bentley was still lodged against the rear bumper of the bus. Anyone could see he had rear-ended it.
“Got a problem? You dare to block this gentleman’s way?” Jerry sneered, his breath heavy with liquor. He ground the shiny heel of his shoe into my wrist, pressing down until my knuckles ached.
“Do you have any idea how much this car costs? Selling you wouldn’t even cover the damage!”
His bald-headed thug forced me down, his knee digging into my lower back, making me kneel.
A phone camera was shoved in my face. Jerry’s mocking voice came through, dripping with laughter. “Kneel and admit you’re wrong. Record it, post it online—let’s show you what the rules are.”
I struggled to lift my eyes. The dashboard clock read 3:27.
The shadows inside the bus were moving restlessly, like candles flickering in the wind. The faint rustle of fabric came from the seats, followed by a barely audible sigh.
The last time I was two minutes late to the final stop, I collapsed onto the steering wheel that same night. My chest had felt as if it were crushed beneath an iron slab, every breath tasting of rust.
I stayed in bed for half a month. When my mentor visited, he stared at the blue blotches spreading across the whites of my eyes and simply said, “You’re lucky to be alive.”
“The bus didn’t move—you crashed into it,” I gritted my teeth, wanting to argue.
But no matter how unwilling I was, I had to bow my head. The bus had to depart on time.
“I’ll pay for the repairs. Just let me get back and leave now—if I’m any later, it’ll be too late.”
Jerry snorted and snatched my work ID from around my neck. The plastic case creaked in his grip.
“NYC Platinum Passenger Transport? What’s so special about it? You got the king of hell riding inside?”
He jerked his chin at the bald man. “Go check it out. See what this guy’s deal is.”
The thug muttered, “Alright,” and shuffled toward the bus door in his slippers.
I heard the door open and suddenly, the cabin fell silent. Not even a whisper of movement remained.
A few seconds later, the bald man came running back down, his pant legs covered in dust. “It’s empty! Not a soul in sight! Jerry, this guy’s just messing with you!”
“Messing with me?”
Jerry’s palm struck my face like a fan blade. My cheek burned and I tasted blood.
