Chapter 1_ Between Guns and Glances

Disclaimer:

This story plunges into the shadows of the criminal underworld, where violence is raw, blood is spilled, and nothing is as clean as it seems. It depicts gore, alcohol abuse, and the ruthless world of organized crime. Names, characters, and events are entirely fictional; any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

This content is intended for mature audiences who can handle the darkness. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Author’s Note:

This work is entirely my original creation and is protected under applicable copyright laws. All rights are reserved. No part of this story, including its characters, plot, worldbuilding, or text in any form, may be copied, reproduced, distributed, translated, posted, or adapted without my explicit written permission. Any unauthorized use, reproduction, or distribution of this work may result in legal action.

Note to Readers:

This story is written using a hybrid point of view. Some events, scenes, or even entire chapters are told in third-person omniscient, while others follow a first-person perspective. This approach is intentional and is designed to give you a fuller, richer experience of the story and its characters. Don’t worry if the perspective shifts. It is all part of the journey. Enjoy the ride!

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Chapter 1_ Between Guns and Glances

Jenna's POV

“Hey, Jenna, are you done checking those reports for the third time?”

Ava’s voice punctured the clinic’s quiet. She leaned against the reception desk, shutting down the computer, her grayish-blue eyes glinting with mischief.

I glanced up from the ECGs stacked before me. “One last look. You know I can’t leave until it feels right.”

She smirked. “You’ve said that every night for five years. If you don’t triple-check every heartbeat here, you’ll have a meltdown.”

“Nightmares,” I muttered, tracing a jagged line across a printout. “Better than missing something.”

She laughed softly, nudging a pile of papers aside. “Right. You’d rather fight ghosts than make a mistake.”

I remembered our first day at the clinic. She had spilled coffee on her scrubs, looked ready to disappear into the floor. I’d helped her clean it up, and somehow that had turned into a friendship. One where she mocked my routines, and I tolerated her chaos.

“Dr. Patel left hours ago,” she said, scrolling through her phone. “Pretty sure we’re haunting this place at this hour.”

I closed the file and stretched, letting the familiar beep of the monitor steady me. That sound, the heartbeat, had drawn me to cardiology years ago. When the world felt unpredictable, it never lied.

“See?” Ava leaned forward, fingers drumming the counter. “Most people hear that noise and want to throw the machine out the window. You look like you’re about to write it a love letter.”

I passed her a small smile, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “That sound keeps people alive, Ava.”

She shrugged. “Now come on, before Dr. Patel decides we’re too dedicated and gives us extra shifts.”

When she reached for the door, I caught her hand on the knob. “Hey, stop looking up cab numbers. I’ll drop you home.”

She froze mid-step, eyebrow raised. “You serious? It’s late, and your place isn’t even on the way.”

“It’s past midnight. Half a mile past the park won’t change my route. We’ve survived later than this before.”

She laughed, tugging her bag strap. “Fine, just this once.”

We shut off the lights. The echo followed us down the hallway as we stepped outside. A sharp wind stirred the leaves across the parking lot. I unlocked the car, tossed my bag on the dash, and slid behind the wheel. Ava climbed in, her black hair brushing her back as she settled in.

“Looks like the sky’s about to throw a tantrum,” she muttered, fastening her belt.

“Let’s hope it waits until we get home.”

I adjusted the mirrors and started the engine.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The wipers cleared the first drops. Then she groaned. “Okay, this quiet is painful. Mind if I play something?”

“Go ahead.” My eyes stayed on the road.

She rifled through her bag and took out the earbuds, putting them in without offering me, knowing I didn’t listen to music or take calls while driving.

Her fingers tapped the phone as she scrolled, the faint click filling the space before she found what she wanted. The screen illuminated her face as her lips moved in time with the song.

Streetlights flickered over the wet pavement. I kept one hand on the wheel, the other tapping lightly, noticing reflections, swaying branches, and shifting shadows along the curbs.

Movement caught my eye, three men in black walking along a side street. Not drunk. Not casual. Scanning each parked car like they had names to match. My grip tightened slightly, pulse rising, but I stayed composed, tracking every movement.

Ava stopped humming, jerking upright as strands fell around her shoulders.

“Oh,” she said quietly, eyes narrowing toward the men. “They still haven’t found her. Great.”

I glanced at her, then back at the street, keeping my body composed.

“Found who?” I asked evenly.

She pulled out her earbuds, her easy tone fading. “Rossi’s wife. That filthy underworld man.”

The name hit hard. I stayed neutral, eyes flicking to each man, reading posture, timing steps.

“She ran away last week. Word is, he used to beat her. His guys have been crawling everywhere since. Dad’s business partner mentioned it, everyone in that circle’s talking.”

“And nobody’s helping her?” I asked softly, jaw relaxed, hands firm on the wheel.

“She’s been running nonstop. Keeps changing places just to stay ahead.” Her gaze stayed fixed on the men. “But he’s got reach.”

Rain streaked the windshield. I adjusted the wipers, letting the world blur but keeping every motion in focus. Pulse quickened slightly, yet breathing remained steady, deliberate.

Ava caught the subtle tension in my posture. “Hey. Don’t go there, Jenna. You can’t fix everyone.”

I nodded slowly, exhaling through my nose. “I know. But it doesn’t make it easier to watch.”

She leaned back, arms crossed, watching the storm outside. The city melted into streaks of light, but my eyes tracked every detail.

Near the park, headlights flared. One of the men stepped into the road, hand raised. I almost braked until the glint of metal caught my eye. A gun.

Foot frozen, hands steady, I measured the distance, eyes scanning his posture.

The man motioned for me to stop. Every nerve screamed to drive, but I stayed calm, reading his shadow, gauging the distance. Ava’s hand pressed briefly to my arm, grounding me.

“Stop,” she hissed, voice low.

“They have guns, Ava?” My voice remained quiet, steady.

“Trust me,” she muttered. “It’s routine for them. Don’t panic.”

I eased the car to the curb, movements precise. The man approached, flashlight in one hand, gun hanging loose at his side. His shadow stretched long, deliberate, and cold.

Ava got out first, water dripping from her jacket sleeve, and moved to my side. I unzipped my bag quickly, grabbing my phone, following her, expression unreadable.

The chill hit instantly, seeping through my soaked shirt. My blonde hair plastered to my face. I watched the man circle the car, noting every angle, every reflection.

Then the phone buzzed violently. I didn’t flinch. Dad’s name glowed on the screen. I set it face down. Not now.

Ava leaned closer, shoulder pressing against mine, droplets streaking down her hair and face. “Pick it up, Jenna. It might be important.”

I shook my head. “Later.” How could I answer while standing beside a gunman?

I knew Dad called every night around this time to check on me. Normally, I’d pick up without a second thought, but not now.

After what felt like an eternity, the man stepped back, giving a curt nod before walking off.

We slid back into the car, chilled but composed. Ava rubbed her sleeve, shivering. I exhaled slowly, fingers relaxing on the wheel, the tension lingering in my chest but no longer controlling me.

We exhaled, silently acknowledging relief.

“See, Ava? They’re just underworld puppets. Didn’t even notice we were standing out here soaked and freezing.”

“Can’t complain, dude.” Ava shrugged.

I tossed my phone onto the dashboard and reached for the door when a shout ripped through the storm.

“She’s been found!” someone yelled, rushing toward another man while holding up a phone. “Get in the cars, location’s been traced!”

The voice was deep, raw, commanding, the kind that made your stomach drop. I stayed still, calculating each possibility, silent, observing.

I leaned forward slightly, eyes narrowing in the rearview mirror. A memory flashed.

Years ago, Alexa had made me watch that crime movie I’d avoided. The man was on his knees after being caught, pleading, his voice flat, desperate, each word swallowed by the criminal’s cold glare. I could see the life drain from his eyes, the way fear twisted every line of his face. Then the gun fired. The crack echoed in the theater, louder than anything I’d imagined, and his head jerked back, blood spraying the screen. I still could feel those merciless eyes watching through the screen, glaring at me as if I were trapped beneath them.

Ava’s hand pressed lightly on my shoulder, pulling me back from the past. My stomach tightened, but my hands didn’t shake. I tracked the fleeing cars, noting every turn, every flash of red taillights.

I exhaled slowly, lifted my head, and stared ahead. The men sped off, their taillights bleeding through the storm.

I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror, honey-brown eyes alert, jaw firm, skin pale beneath the dashboard glow. I barely recognized myself.

“Relax, Jenna,” Ava murmured, brushing a strand of wet hair from my cheek. “You need to breathe.”

I nodded, pulse steadying, hands trembling only slightly.

“God help her,” I whispered, voice quiet, measured. “Wherever she is, people like them don’t deserve mercy.”

The storm blurred the world. I took a few deep breaths, bracing myself, and started the engine again. Tonight proved that right and wrong didn’t matter as much as timing. One second changed everything.

The tension didn’t fade, but Ava’s quiet presence beside me reminded me I wasn’t alone.