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I can feel Cheree's grasp slacken, the betrayal a silent scream between us.
The world halts, a cruel snapshot of her face as it crumples in shock. The corners of Cheree's mouth twitch downward, eyes widening, the green irises darkening with betrayal. It hits her like a physical blow, the word "Cherry" hanging there, ugly, and unwanted.
"JD," she breathes, the name a shard of glass lodged in her throat. She's looking at me, through me, seeing every lie I've ever told myself about protection and loyalty.
I brace for the fallout, the storm I've unleashed.
Then she's a hurricane, all flying red hair and fury. Her scream slices through the thick air, a raw sound that has nothing to do with fear. Cheree launches herself at Viper, her small frame a weapon of pure rage.
"Murderer!" she spits, her voice tearing at the night.
Viper jerks back, startled, his finger tightening reflexively on the trigger. The gunshot cracks the world wide open, but it's just noise, just smoke, it doesn't touch us. Not yet.
She's clawing, biting, every ounce of her being focused on taking him down. This isn't the careful, calculated woman I know. This is something wilder, something fierce and unbroken despite the chains life's thrown around her.
"Damn you, Viper!" she howls, her hands finding flesh, drawing blood.
And there I stand, carved from stone and silence, watching the woman I vowed to walk away from fight like hell itself was snapping at her heels.
My feet might as well be lead, but the sight of Cheree—a firestorm in the flesh—ignites something buried within me. Viper's gun swings wildly, a pendulum promising death, and in that moment, I shed the weight of hesitation.
Lunging forward, my movements fueled by a fury that mirrors Cheree's own. There is no room for doubt, only the raw need to protect, to overthrow the treachery. Viper's eyes flash with surprise as I crash into him, the collision a symphony of grunts and curses.
"JD!" Cheree cries out, her voice knifing through the chaos.
"Stay back," I grunt, the words barely a growl as I wrestle with the serpent before me.
Viper's grip on the gun is iron, his resolve as poisonous as his namesake. But desperation lends me strength, and the scar upon my face is a testament to harder battles, darker nights.
Our bodies are locked in a deadly embrace. His breath is hot against my skin, reeking of tobacco. My fingers claw at his hand, seeking the weapon that threatens to end it all.
"Let go, you son of a bitch!" The words are ripped from my throat.
Viper sneers, a vile twist of his mouth that speaks of every sin he's ever committed. "You think you're better than me, JD? You're nothing!"
With a roar, I wrench the gun from his grasp, the power shifting like tectonic plates beneath our feet. He stumbles back, shock written all over his twisted face, his reign of terror slipping through his fingers.
"Cheree," I pant, my voice steady despite the adrenaline that courses through my veins.
"JD..." Her voice is a whisper.
Our eyes lock, and in hers, I see the reflection of my own soul—bruised, battered, but not broken. Not yet. We stand there, on the precipice of a future uncharted, the night air heavy with the scent of gunpowder and possibility.
"Let's get out of here," I say, knowing the road ahead is long and fraught with peril, but willing to ride it side by side with the woman who's become my fight.
“What do we do with him?”
Using the butt of the gun, I strike him hard. Viper falls backward, knocked out cold.
“Let’s tie him up.”
Cheree places her hand on my arm. “He’s never going to let me go.”
“Can’t kill a man in cold blood.”
She nods, and puts her hand on the gun. “Give it to me.” My answer is a swift shake of my head. “They will never stop looking for me.”
“Killing a man leaves a mark on your soul. I don’t want you to have it on yours.”
