Chapter Sixty Five

Chapter 65

Jemima couldn't shake the image of Alan's smirk from her mind. The way his lips curled upward as if he knew something she didn't—it made her stomach churn. She clenched her fists tighter, her nails digging into her palms as the city lights blurred past the car window. The encounter at the warehouse was supposed to yield answers, but all it did was fuel her frustration.

Jay's knuckles were tight around the steering wheel, his tension evident in the way he swerved through the quiet streets. Marcus, sitting in the back, was unusually quiet, his face turned toward the glass. The weight of unspoken words filled the car like a suffocating fog.

“Just say it,” Jemima stated, breaking the silence and glancing at him. She could sense him holding his temper at the tip of his tongue.

Jay was silent momentarily, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

"You don't get it, do you?" Jay finally spoke up, his voice sharp and low.

Jemima didn't look at him. "Get what?"

"You're playing with fire, Jem,” Jay warned, his grip tightening on the steering wheel.

She turned sharply, her glare meeting his briefly. "I don't need this right now, Jay."

“You asked me to say what’s on my mind didn’t you?”

“Yes, not this.”

Jay's grip on the wheel tightened as he veered into the lane with more force than necessary. "You don't need “this”? What you don't need is to keep putting yourself in situations where you almost get killed. Do you even realize what could've happened in there?"

"I had it under control," she snapped, though her voice wavered. She knew she didn’t have it under control but she was tired of Jay always saving her

Jay let out a bitter laugh. "Control? Jem, you were unarmed. You were cornered, for god's sake. If I hadn't shown up..."

"I didn't ask you to come," she interrupted, her voice rising in anger.

Jay slammed the steering wheel, the sound reverberating through the car. "That's exactly the problem! You never ask for help! You think you can handle everything alone, but you can't."

"Alright, enough," Marcus interjected from the back, his tone calm but firm. "Both of you need to cool it. What's done is done."

Jay muttered something under his breath, turning his focus back to the road. Jemima, however, refused to let the matter drop entirely.

"I wasn't alone," she said pointedly, glancing back at Marcus. "I had Marcus."

"And look where that got you," Jay shot back. "You're lucky Alan didn't decide to end things right then and there. He could've…” Jay swallowed the rest of his words, unable to bear the gravity of it.

The mention of Alan brought a fresh wave of anger and confusion crashing over Jemima. She clenched her jaw, swallowing her retort.

“I don’t know how I would have coped if I lost you Jem,” Jay whispered out the words he feared but it did nothing to calm the flaring temper that Jemima was feeling in that moment.

The penthouse was cold and quiet when they arrived. Jemima stepped out of the car first, slamming the door harder than necessary. She stormed inside, ignoring the calls of her name behind her.

Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floors as she made her way to the liquor cabinet. She didn't bother with a glass this time, pouring whiskey straight into a tumbler and taking a long sip.

Behind her, she heard the door open and shut.

"You're unbelievable," Jay said, his voice echoing in the vast living room.

Jemima didn't turn around. "You've made that clear."

He stepped closer, his shoes clicking against the floor. "Do you even hear yourself? You're reckless, Jem. You're going to get yourself killed."

She spun around, her green eyes blazing. "I'm trying to stay alive, Jay. That's what all of this is about."

"No," he countered. "This is about you trying to prove something—to yourself, to Jon, to... hell, I don't even know who anymore."

His words hit a nerve, but Jemima refused to show it. She took another sip of her whiskey, keeping her expression cold.

"You don't know what you're talking about," she said quietly.

Jay's jaw tightened. "I know more than you think."

The room fell silent. Jemima stared at him, her anger slowly giving way to curiosity.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He hesitated, running a hand through his dark hair. "It means I've been keeping tabs on Alan. I've been watching him since—"

"Since what?" she pressed, stepping closer.

"Since Jon put him on your trail," Jay admitted.

Her breath caught. "You knew he was watching me?"

Jay nodded. "I didn't know how deep he was in, but I had my suspicions. Tonight confirmed them."

"And you didn't think to tell me?" she asked, her voice rising.

"I didn't want to distract you," he said. "You've got enough on your plate without worrying about who might be double-crossing you."

She scoffed. "You mean to tell me that Alan might be working with Jon, and you didn't think that was important enough to mention?"

Before Jay could respond, Marcus entered the room, his expression grim. He held his tablet in one hand, his brow furrowed as he studied the screen.

"We've got a problem," he said, his voice cutting through the tension.

Jay stepped back, giving Jemima space. "What is it?"

Marcus looked up, his expression serious. "Jon's men are on the move. They're pulling back from the outer territories."

"That's not his style," Jemima said, frowning. "He doesn't retreat."

"Exactly," Marcus agreed. "Which means he's planning something big. And if Alan's involved..."

Jemima's mind raced. If Jon was consolidating his resources, it could only mean one thing: an attack.

"Do we have any idea where he's concentrating his forces?" she asked.

Marcus shook his head. "Not yet. But I've got some leads we can follow."

Jay nodded. "I'll reach out to my contacts, and see what I can dig up."

"And I'll talk to Alan," Jemima said.

Both men turned to her, their expressions incredulous.

"Absolutely not," Jay said, his tone firm.

She raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You can't trust him," Jay said. "He's already made his choice."

"And yet, he didn't kill me tonight," she pointed out.

"That doesn't mean he won't next time," Jay countered.

"I'm not saying I trust him," she said, her voice steady. "But he knows more than he's letting on, and if there's even a chance I can get him to talk..."

Jay shook his head. "You're risking too much."

"It's my risk to take," she said firmly.

Marcus held up a hand. "Alright, let's not turn this into another argument. If Jemima wants to talk to Alan, we'll make sure she's not doing it alone."

Jay sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fine. But I'm coming with you."

"Fine," Jemima said. "But if he trusts me even a little, you let me handle it."

Jay didn't respond, but the look in his eyes said enough.

“I’ll leave you two and just stay in the guest room. Thanks for letting me stay the night Jay,” Marcus thanked, leaving the two of them alone.

“I didn’t say you could stay the night…” Jay began but Marcus was already out of earshot, prompting a long sigh from him.

“Jay…” Jemima called out, wanting to resolve the issue.

“Jem, I worry about you too much and you know it,” Jay whispered, his tone shaky as he closed the gap between them.

“I know, but sometimes let me handle things myself.”

“I just don’t want to lose you,” Jay muttered, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

“You’re not going to lose me, Jay. I’m not that defenseless little girl anymore.”

Jemima assured, wrapping her arm around his neck and deepening the kiss. Jay let out a guttural moan and carried Jemima- bridal style.

The next morning, Jemima was already awake and dressed when Marcus knocked on her door. She opened it to find him holding his phone, his face serious.

"We've got a lead," he said.

She followed him to the living room, where Jay was waiting with a map spread out on the coffee table.

“Slept well, princess?” Jay asked, throwing a mischievous wink her way.
A blush crept on the corner of her cheeks but she quickly grabbed a cup of coffee to mask it.

“Oh! You two… I don’t even wanna know,” Marcus laughed, prompting Jemima to hit him playfully.

“What have we got guys, Alan and his father are after us remember?” Jemima reminded, not wanting to indulge in the conversation any longer.

"One of my contacts spotted Alan heading toward this location," Jay explained, pointing to a red mark on the map. "It's an old safehouse Jon used a few years ago."

Jemima studied the map, her mind working quickly. "If Alan's there, he's not just passing through. He's meeting someone."

"Most likely," Jay agreed. "But we need to be careful. If Jon or his men are nearby, we could be walking into a trap."

"We'll take the risk," Jemima said, grabbing her jacket.

Marcus and Jay exchanged a look, but neither of them argued.

---

The safe house was located on the outskirts of the city, nestled among abandoned factories and overgrown lots. The paint was peeling, and the windows were boarded up, but faint light leaked through the cracks.

They parked a block away and approached on foot, keeping to the shadows.

Jemima's heart pounded as they reached the building. Jay motioned for them to split up, and Jemima found herself circling toward the back entrance with Marcus.

Inside, the air was stale, and thick with the smell of mildew and dust. Voices drifted from a nearby room.

"...everything's in place," one of the men was saying. "Jon wants this handled quietly."

Alan's voice was clear. "It will be, all you have to finish just trust me.”

Jemima's breath caught. They were working together.

“Of course.” She muttered to herself, not expecting any less from a father and son duo.


The man glanced toward the doorway.

"We've got company," he said sharply.

"Run!" Marcus hissed, pulling Jemima back as gunfire erupted.