Her eyes, his lies

Chapter 37

It was nothing like the first gunshot Jane had experienced. The way time had solidified into a congealed mess, the seconds stretching into infinity. No, this time was so far from her first. Instead, it was more like a crash.

The moments stampeded past in quick succession, bright flashes lighting up the night, deafening booms cracking through their ears.

The smell of gunpowder and burning asphalt was filling the air as the vehicle behind Jane peeled out of the street, a neat set of bullet holes in its frame.

Ryder was moving backwards as quickly as he could, dragging the struggling thug along with him. The other men were shouting in fear as an unseen assailant picked them off one by one, a new gunshot from a new location with every fallen body.

There was fear in their postures, so unlike the relaxed confidence they sported mere seconds ago. Clutching his stomach, another thug fell to the ground, a red stain spreading through his shirt. His screams seemed to draw Jane's attention in, sucking her thoughts away. The red was all she saw. Her heartbeat, already unsteady, fluttered with an unstable energy.

There was so much blood. Too much. Just like there, in the kitchen, when-

"Jane!" Ryder had reached her at last, his body blocking the dying thug from sight.

Ryder had made a mistake. Unthinkingly, he released Grease-ball with one hand, pistol still pressed to the mans side, and reached for Jane.

Seizing the opportunity, Grease-ball whirled away, shoving Ryder into Jane. The pair collapsed to the ground with a yelp, barley audible over the warfare around them.

Quickly, Grease-ball realized his mistake. The only people not being shot were Ryder and Jane. He had exposed himself.

Jane, eyes wide, watched his lank hair flutter through the air as he fell.

As fast as it had begun, it was over. The men lay broken and bleeding in a semi-circle around them, the dark vehicle and its mysterious fate long gone. Once more, the street was silent, save for the dying groans of the Jackson syndicate men. Their voices pulled at something in Jane's gut, a queasy nausea rising from within. A horror was stirring within her at the death in the street.

Cautiously, Ryder stood, hands raised above his head in a sign of surrender.

"Not a tough guy anymore, are ya, kiddo?" Watson said, seeming to materialize out of the dark. A grim expression adorned his face, so unlike the uncaring tone he spoke with.

"You? But-" Ryder's confusion was obvious.

"He's Watson Allyson," Jane said, straightening next to Ryder. She swallowed, fighting back the urge to vomit. The scent of blood was nearly as strong as the scent of gunpowder.

Ryder's hands lowered as he examined Watson closely, green eyes absorbing every detail.

"No way," Ryder whispered, "you look so different."

"I don't know, superman, I think he looks better." Victoria's sudden appearance, while not unexpected, set Jane on edge. Her eyes narrowed at her former best friend, suspicion and hurt visible within.

Ryder sensed Jane's agitation, and moved to shield her. "What do you two want?"

A thug, somehow still alive, was dragging himself across the street, his breathing thready and hoarse. Watson made a cursory glance at the man, before returning his attention to Ryder. "We just took out four men for you. The least you could do-"

"I had it under control!" Ryder shouted.

The still-living-thug groaned, his arms collapsing from exhaustion.

"Did you? Because it looks like you were about to get kidnapped." Watson's scowl deepened.

Victoria's gaze met Jane's. They shared a mutual eye-roll at the macho power posing, before Jane stopped herself.

Stop, Jane. She's the enemy, remember?

An enemy that she dearly missed.

Ryder and Watson were, once again, glaring at each other with restrained dislike. Victoria motioned to the van at the other end of the road. Begrudgingly, Jane followed.

Victoria turned, meeting Jane's eye. Her smile was disarming, but the effect was lost on Jane.

Here, in this street, surrounded by the dead, Jane had never felt more distant from Victoria.

"Jane..." Victoria began.

"Was any of it real?" Jane said, cutting her off.

The smile was gone as a new expression grew on Victoria's face, one Jane had never seen before. Guilt.

"Yes," she said, "I never lied to you. Not really. I just... hid things."

Jane snorted, or at least tried to. The urge to vomit still hung in her mouth, tightening her throat.

Victoria ignored her obvious disbelief. "I'm sorry, Jane. I'm not gonna make excuses. You deserve better than that."

"You started all this. If you and your dad hadn't been manipulating me all this time, it wouldn't have gone this far. You made me think I needed to get them before they got me," Jane said.

"That's not true." Victoria's eyebrows pressed together. "You're being unreasonable. It's not like we forced you to do anything."

Jane was about to retaliate, mouth half open in preparation for a scathing remark, but stopped herself.

It was true. Victoria and her father hadn't forced her to poke into Ryder's social media, or to follow him to that alleyway meeting, so many weeks ago. In a way, Jane was just as accountable as the lying teenage girl before her.

"That doesn't change the fact that your dad made me think they were coming for me. I never would've agreed to do any of this if it weren't for him," Jane argued. She jumped in surprise, Watson appearing from behind her.

"It's like I said, Jane. You're something else. You would've kept going on your own, I know it. It was just a matter of time, and then they would have been onto you," Watson said, arms folded.

Ryder was standing next to him, a measured distance separating the two. "That wasn't your choice to make."

Jane was silently grateful for Ryder's support as the father-daughter crime-fighting duo glanced at him in incredulity.

"You're not one to talk, riding off with Jane like that!" Victoria blurted out.

Watson nodded in agreement. "Yeah. How did these men find you two, anyway? It's very suspicious."

Ryder's scowl returned as he turned to Watson. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Victoria piped up, "I told you your actions hurt people, Ryder, yet here you are, endangering Jane! We could protect her better than you can!"

"You're the ones that have been lying to her all this time!" Ryder roared, his fists clenching.

"Are you dumb, kid? We just explained-" Watson began.

"Shut up!" Jane shouted, her voice somehow eclipsing the rapidly growing argument.

They turned to her, three pairs of eyes widened in surprise. A silence had fallen over the street, even the labored breathing of the near-dead growing soft.

 Then the sirens came, echoing through the empty streets, seeming to approach with a rapidness no car could achieve. They had minutes until they were surrounded.

"Damn..." Ryder hissed. The van's lights flashed as he unlocked it. "Come on, get in!"

The street was lit in an alternating red and blue, appearing to be so far away in the rear view mirror. Jane's fists were clenched in tension as she watched the four bodies shrink away, their prostrate forms vanishing in the distance. More death. More blood. 

When would it end?

The foursome were silent within the van, each thinking of what would come next, and if they would even survive at all.