2. The Double-Cross double crossed

1991 Words
The night air was crisp, carrying the scent of wet asphalt and distant street fires. Jerry’s eyes never left the road, yet in his mind, he was miles away, replaying the first time he had seen her. Lucy. The memory was as sharp as a blade: a quiet afternoon, her brows furrowed in concentration as she stacked books behind the glass of the bookstore. He had watched, entranced, as a single strand of hair fell across her face, the sunlight catching it just right. Even then, he had imagined himself as her shadow, her protector from the world’s cruelties. And now, years later, he was no longer a boy watching from a distance. He was here, driving her through the quiet streets, feeling the warmth of her presence beside him, tasting the electricity between them. Every heartbeat of hers was a drum in his chest, every laugh a spark he could not ignore. “You enjoying our date so far?” he murmured, leaning close to her ear, his voice low and velvet-soft. “Y-yeah,” she breathed, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of apprehension. Take me home, they seemed to say. “One more stop,” he said, winking. The road stretched before them, dark and empty, yet filled with possibility. “O-okay…” Her voice faltered. Fear and anticipation danced across her features. Jerry grinned, a thrill of both mischief and protectiveness coursing through him. At the edge of town, he parked near a serene park. The moonlight rippled across the pond, and the scent of damp grass mingled with the night air. He offered her his hand. Lucy hesitated, glancing around, doubt and fear flashing across her face. This was far from home, yet in his gaze, she found reassurance. “I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said, voice low, sincere. “You know that.” She nodded, letting herself trust him, and followed his lead through the winding paths. Shadows danced under the trees, and he stole soft kisses whenever the opportunity arose, his fingers brushing hers, tracing her jawline, letting her feel his warmth. As they neared a row of small taverns, his phone vibrated. Frowning, he stepped aside to answer. “Boss, it’s time,” Marx’s voice came, clipped and urgent. “Activate,” Jerry said, voice terse. “Yes, boss,” Marx replied. The line went dead. Jerry returned to Lucy with a practiced smile. “Time to head back, dear.” “Already? The date over?” she asked, puzzled. “Yes,” he said simply, masking the tension beneath a calm exterior. They approached the jeep when six men emerged from the shadows, weapons glinting. Lucy’s grip on his hand tightened, knuckles white. “Who… who are you?” Jerry demanded, voice sharp and dangerous. “Big Joe sent us,” one replied. Fear tightened Lucy’s chest. “Why? I told him I’d bring her!” Jerry roared. Anger flared. Betrayal. “Well, plans have changed,” the leader said coldly. “We’ll take her now. Deal’s off with you.” Lucy’s heart sank. The night—the laughter, the closeness, every whispered joke—had been a setup. “What?” Jerry snapped, gun raised. “She isn’t going anywhere.” “Step away, man. Don’t want you getting hurt,” the guard warned. A shot rang out, pain lancing through Jerry’s side. He went down, teeth gritted, eyes blazing. When he looked up, Lucy was being carried to a waiting van. His fingers trembled over his phone; clarity returned through the haze. He had been double-crossed, but she would be safe. ------------ Meanwhile, in the quiet apartment above the bookstore, Meredith’s worry gnawed at her. Midnight had come and gone. “Where is she?” Meredith demanded, hands trembling. “She’s a big girl, Mama,” Katie replied softly, though her own anxiety simmered beneath her calm tone. The bookstore, their sanctuary, now felt claustrophobic. Katie dialed Madam Ronnie, bracing herself for the lecherous voice she dreaded. “Well, well, if it isn’t my little minx… ready to take my job offer, missy?” Ronnie’s playful tone made Katie flinch. “No, Ronnie. I’m a church girl. I pass,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Well, gotta try, right?” Ronnie shrugged, seriousness creeping in. “So… is Lucy okay?” “We… don’t know. She isn’t back yet. Is she on shift?” “Nope. Called earlier—a date. Not working tonight.” Katie’s heart raced. “A date?” “Yes. Check in by morning if something goes wrong.” Katie hung up, pacing, checking the time, calling Lucy repeatedly. The silence gnawed at her. Jerry’s backup arrived swiftly. He peeled off his shirt, revealing the reinforced bulletproof vest underneath. Every move precise, controlled, deadly. “Boss, what happened?” Diesel asked. “Someone messed with my woman, Dee. Let’s show them what happens when you do,” Jerry said, grin darkening his features. A call from Julian came. “We have the merchandise.” “Good. Round them up. I’m close by.” Seven minutes later, the tavern was in chaos. Julian’s team had Marx and Lucy’s captors secured. Fists, slaps, and grunts echoed as Jerry stormed in. “Never ever double-cross me again!” he spat. “He offered millions… told them not to hurt you!” Marx pleaded. Jerry sneered. “Hurt me? Boys, deal with them.” Gunfire, punches, and shouted orders tore through the building. Jerry snorted as he stepped into the tavern. Inside, chaos already reigned. Big Joe and his sly crew were slumped against broken chairs and splintered tables, their faces bloodied from the work Julian and his team had started ahead of his arrival. In the far corner, Lucy lay unconscious, her wrists raw where the chains had been hastily unfastened. Jerry’s gaze lingered on her only a moment before he barked an order. One of his men moved quickly to lift her from the floor. “Get her out,” Jerry said, his voice sharp. “Take her to the jeep.” Big Joe’s men had knocked her out earlier when she tried to fight them, and she hadn’t stirred since. Now, carried carefully out of the tavern, she was at least safe from the storm about to break. “Well, well, Big Joe… looks like your time is up,” Jerry sneered, driving his fist squarely into Joe’s face. Big Joe winced, the taste of blood flooding his mouth as he staggered back, eyes darting over the wreckage of his tavern. “You’d better finish me now, boy,” he spat, crimson dripping down his chin, “or you’ll live to regret it.” Jerry chuckled, shaking his hand loose from the blow. “Oh, I’ll finish you, sure… just not today.” He sniffed the air theatrically, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “Funny. Smells like petrol in here. Leak somewhere?” He already knew the answer — Julian had soaked the place just as instructed. Satisfied, Jerry gave the tavern one last glance before strutting toward the exit. He motioned to his men. “Let him go. Leave them all here to patch themselves up… and figure out where that leak’s coming from.” Big Joe’s men scrambled frantically, gathering whatever they could. This tavern wasn’t just a bar — it was their warehouse, their vault, the beating heart of Joe’s empire. Crates of contraband lined the back rooms; fortunes shifted through these walls. If the place went up, so did everything he had built. Cursing under his breath, Joe bolted upstairs. He clawed at drawers and shelves, stuffing documents, ledgers, cheque books, anything he could reach into a satchel. Every second hammered the same truth into his skull: petrol meant fire, and fire meant the end — in minutes. “Big Joe, we have to go — now!” Dan, his partner, shouted from below. Their other friends had already bolted for their cars, desperate to escape the danger. But Joe hesitated, clinging to the empire stacked under his roof. He couldn’t walk away. Not yet. By then, Jerry and his crew had already parked at the far end of the street, watching with cold patience. On their way out, one of Jerry’s men had set off fireworks beneath a parked car at the tavern’s entrance. Inside, Joe was still cramming valuables into his bag when the ignition finally caught. The car exploded with a thunderous roar, flames rolling into the tavern like a tide. The fire leapt fast and wild, devouring wood, liquor, and lives indiscriminately. Chaos erupted. And Big Joe, still clutching what he could save, realized too late that there was no saving any of it. Lucy stirred and slowly sat up, her lashes fluttering as the world swam back into focus. The first thing she saw was fire — the tavern swallowed by roaring flames, the roof collapsing in showers of sparks. Smoke rolled into the night sky, thick and suffocating, carrying with it the stench of petrol and ash. Among the wreckage lay the bodies of the men who had tried to break her, now silenced by fire and steel. Her breath caught. A tremor rippled through her and she instinctively moved closer to Jerry. His arm came around her at once, iron-strong, possessive. He held her as if daring the world to try and take her from him again. “You did this… all for me?” she whispered, her voice thin, eyes glistening as she searched his face. In the crackling light of the blaze, he looked less like a man and more like a dark avenger — dangerous, unyielding, hers. Jerry’s eyes stayed fixed on the burning tavern for a long moment, watching it fall in on itself, before he finally looked down at her. His jaw was hard, his grip firm, but when he bent to kiss her temple, the gesture was intimate, claiming. “Yes, my queen,” he murmured, voice low, carrying both tenderness and command. “For you. Always for you. And no one who lays a hand on you will live to boast of it.” Lucy’s throat tightened; her eyes stung with tears. She pressed herself against him, feeling the heat of the fire at her back and the unshakable strength of him at her side. The world could burn — it already was — but in his embrace she felt untouchable, shielded by the very danger that made others tremble. “Thank you, my knight,” she breathed. The adrenaline fading, a tender intimacy settled over them. Lucy’s head rested on his shoulder, his arm holding her close. “You really are my knight,” she murmured. “I’m more than that,” he whispered, brushing her hair from her face. “I’ll always protect you… no matter what.” The city lights blurred past as they drove, a future unwritten stretching before them. Her fingers intertwined with his, heart steady despite the night’s chaos. As they drove silently, Jerry’s mind drifted back to the bookstore. How long had he protected her from afar? How many nights had he lain awake, imagining the dangers she faced? Now, she was here, alive, in his arms. The thought made him ache with relief, but also with a fierce desire. This girl had always been his—he’d never let the world take her from him again. Lucy stirred against him, whispering a soft, “I… I trust you.” He pressed his lips gently to her hair. “And I’ll never give you reason not to.” A quiet smile, hands tightly clasped, hearts aligned—the night had been dark, full of shadows, betrayal, and fire. But in the warmth of his embrace, Lucy found light. Jerry’s lips curved into a dark, satisfied smile. “We’re just getting started, my queen,” he murmured.
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