The shrill ring of your phone shattered the stillness of the night, pulling you from the depths of sleep. Groaning, you fumbled for your phone on the nightstand, blinking against the glare of the screen. “Unknown Caller” flashed across it. Normally, you’d let it go to voicemail, but something tugged at you to pick up.

“Hello?” your voice came out raspy, still heavy with sleep.

There was a pause, followed by a familiar voice that immediately set your nerves on edge. “Hey… it’s me.”

Your stomach dropped. “JJ?” You sat up, adrenaline chasing away the last remnants of sleep. “What’s going on? Where are you?”

A heavy sigh came from the other end of the line. “Uh… I’m at Kildare County Jail,” he admitted, his tone a mix of frustration and something softer, almost apologetic.

“What?! JJ, what the hell happened?”

“I got into a fight,” he muttered, his words clipped, as if he couldn’t bear to explain more. You could hear the frustration in his voice—directed at himself, maybe the world. Then, softer, almost sheepish: “Look, I hate to call you for this, but… can you come pick me up?”