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Choice with Teeth
Last Updated:
2025-12-11 12:07:20
Latest chapter
The Cross Family Choosing Each Other
Jayla chose the apartment herself.Cameron didn’t argue. He offered to drive her, then sat quietly in the passenger seat while she directed him through neighborhoods that grew less polished with every turn—tree-lined streets with uneven sidewalks, brick walk-ups with character instead of doormen, corner stores instead of valet parking.When they stopped in front of the building, Cameron took it in without judgment.Three stories. Faded green trim. A narrow staircase visible through the front window.“It’s not much,” Jayla said, fingers twisting together as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “But it’s safe. And it’s mine.”He smiled. “That’s a lot, actually.”The landlord was an older woman with sharp eyes and a soft voice who sized Cameron up the way women like her always did—not impressed, not intimidated, simply curious. Jayla answered every question herself. Income. References. Lease length.When the keys landed in her palm, Jayla’s breath caught.This wasn’t survival housing.It wasn’t t
The Cross Family A New Song
The café’s speakers weren’t meant for revelations.They were old, mounted too high in the corners, wired into a system that crackled when the volume changed too quickly. Most days they played acoustic playlists—soft guitar, safe vocals, songs that asked for nothing and promised even less.Jayla barely noticed them anymore.She moved through her shift on instinct, muscle memory carrying her from counter to espresso machine to register. Her hands knew the motions even when her thoughts drifted—milk steaming, cups sliding across the counter, receipts tearing clean.Life had settled into a cautious rhythm after the debt was paid.Her mother was safe.The threats were gone.And Cameron… Cameron hovered somewhere between near and distant, present but careful. They spoke. They laughed sometimes. They didn’t pretend everything was fixed.Jayla was learning how to accept that.“Hey,” her coworker murmured, nudging her. “You hear this?”Jayla glanced up absently. “Hear what?”The song had just
The Cross Family The Debt
Cameron didn’t make a spectacle of it.There was no dramatic confrontation, no raised voices in back alleys or threats delivered with clenched fists. He didn’t want fear—he wanted finality.The meeting happened in a law office that specialized in the kind of transactions that never made headlines. Glass walls, neutral art, a receptionist who didn’t blink when three men with hard eyes walked in and were escorted to a conference room already occupied.Cameron sat at the far end of the table, jacket off, sleeves rolled, posture calm. Alexander stood near the window, hands folded behind his back. Adrian sat beside Cameron, legal pad open, pen poised like a blade.The men recognized the name immediately. The shift was subtle but unmistakable—shoulders straightening, bravado thinning. Power had a scent, and the Cross family carried it.Adoric, the one who’d spoken to Jayla on Pike Street, tried to smile. “Didn’t expect the artist,” he said. “Thought we’d be dealing with lawyers.”“You are,”
The Cross Family THE MACHINE STARTS MOVING
They didn’t leave the building right away.Cameron stayed with Jayla in the archives until her shaking eased into something manageable. He didn’t rush her. Didn’t lecture. Just sat on the edge of the metal table while she pressed her palms together and tried to get her breathing under control.Eventually, he stood and offered his hand.“Come on,” he said quietly. “We’re getting out of here.”She nodded, numb, and let him guide her back into the elevator. The doors closed with the same soft hiss as before, but the weight between them was different now. Not panic exactly. Something heavier. More careful.Neither of them spoke as the elevator descended.When they stepped into the lobby, the guard barely looked up. Cameron swiped his own card this time, muscle memory smooth and practiced. The revolving doors pushed them back into the city, where traffic hummed and neon bled into the night.Cameron’s car was parked at the curb.Jayla stopped before reaching it.“Cameron,” she said, voice l
The Cross Family Caught at the Edge
The elevator doors slid shut with a quiet hiss, sealing Jayla in.As the car began to rise, she watched the numbers above the door blink past — 2, 5, 9 — each one tightening the knot in her stomach.She hadn’t chosen a floor at random.She remembered the number from lunch with Cameron — the way he’d swiped his card and pressed 19.“Most of Cross Enterprises is just offices and conference rooms,” he’d said. “But level nineteen has the archives and some project suites. Quiet. Easy to disappear in when I don’t want to be found.”Tonight, that quiet felt like a trap.The elevator chimed when it reached nineteen. The doors slid open to reveal a dim hallway lined with glass-walled rooms, each one dark except for the soft glow of screens on sleep mode and the occasional nightlight above emergency exits.Her sneakers squeaked faintly on polished floor as she stepped out.There were no people. No voices.Just the distant hum of the building’s veins — electricity, air conditioning, the quiet me
The Cross Family Choice with Teeth
Pike and 12th didn’t look dangerous at first glance.It was just another frayed corner of the city—liquor store with flickering neon, a laundromat that never seemed to close, a bus stop with a cracked plastic shelter and a bench scarred by names carved with keys.But danger didn’t always announce itself.Sometimes it slipped into familiar places and waited.Jayla hugged her jacket tighter around herself as she checked the time on her phone: 7:58 p.m.She’d come early on purpose. She hated the idea of them seeing her hurry, of reading desperation in her body language. So she’d walked slow, cataloguing every exit as she went—alley there, side street there, open bodega door across the way with two bored clerks inside.Her heart still hammered.She kept hearing Cameron’s last message in her head.If you ever need me… for anything… you know that, right?Her fingers itched to text him.She didn’t.Headlights swept the intersection, momentarily turning the worn asphalt and trash-strewn curb
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