Chapter 950 Keep an Eye on Him
"Jeffery, keep an eye on her!" Lyra yelled as Jeffery lunged forward to restrain Clara again. Ignoring the discomfort of her gasoline-soaked clothes sticking to her skin, she sprinted toward the street where a water truck was parked.
Clara thrashed wildly, trying to break free from Jeffery's grip, screaming, "You think you can get away? None of you will!"
Jeffery's arms were like iron clamps, holding her tight. His forehead veins bulged as he shouted, "Calm down!"
By now, Lyra had reached the water truck. She scrambled up to the driver's seat, the door clanging loudly in the silent night.
Inside, she frantically searched for the ignition, her hands shaking with anxiety. Her eyes darted over the unfamiliar buttons and knobs on the dashboard.
Her fingers slipped repeatedly as she fumbled around, cold sweat mixing with the gasoline on her face, stinging her eyes.
Just then, a loud cough startled her. She turned to see the driver, who had been napping in the back seat, awakened by the commotion.
The driver, still groggy, barely had time to process the situation before Lyra screamed, "Sir, help! There's a fire back there! If we don't start the water truck, we're toast!"
The driver snapped awake, his eyes darting past Lyra. Outside the window, not far from Clara's struggling figure, a small flame had ignited the gasoline on the ground, rapidly spreading toward them.
Thick, acrid smoke billowed, making it hard to breathe.
The driver's face turned pale. Without scolding Lyra for touching the truck, his professional instincts kicked in. He swiftly maneuvered the controls, his foot slamming down on the clutch and gas pedal in one fluid motion.
With a roar, the engine came to life, and the truck shook violently.
"Hang on!" the driver shouted, shoving the water cannon lever forward.
In an instant, the once-dormant nozzles sprang to life, unleashing a torrent of water like a silver curtain, arcing through the air and dousing the flames.
The hissing sound filled the air as water met fire, creating a cloud of steam that blurred everyone's vision.
Under the powerful onslaught of water, the flames quickly retreated and were extinguished in moments, leaving only charred remnants on the ground as evidence of the recent danger.
Lyra's tense body finally relaxed, collapsing into the seat as she gasped for air, tears of relief streaming down her face.
Jeffery took the opportunity to fully subdue Clara, his hands like cuffs around her wrists. With the fire gone, Clara lost her fight and crumpled to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.
The driver, now able to catch his breath, turned to Lyra, bewildered. "What the heck happened here?"
Lyra was about to explain when the sound of sirens grew closer.
Soon, police cars pulled up, and officers quickly took charge, handcuffing Clara and leading her to a squad car.
A female officer approached Lyra, draping a blanket over her shoulders and speaking softly, "Don't worry, we'll handle it from here. Come with us to the station to give a statement. Take a moment to breathe."
She then turned to the driver, "Sir, we'll need you to come with us too, to assist with the investigation."
Everyone piled into the police car, Lyra and Jeffery's hands tightly clasped together.
Lyra's body was still trembling a bit, so Jeffery gently pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her head and soothingly rubbing her back.
The atmosphere inside the police car was heavy, the flashing red and blue lights casting a silent glow over their tired faces.
Lyra buried her face in Jeffery's chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, its rhythm gradually calming her erratic breathing.
After a while, she lifted her head, meeting Jeffery's worried and tender gaze. Her heart warmed, and she whispered, "We made it through, just barely... so close."
Her voice caught in her throat, choked by a sob.
Jeffery raised a hand, gently wiping away the tears on her cheek, his voice hoarse but firm, "Don't worry, it's over now. I'm here."
Those simple words gave her the sense of security she desperately needed.
The female officer in the front seat turned around, handing them two bottles of water, speaking softly, "Here, have some water, relax. Once we finish at the station, you can go home and rest."
Lyra took the water, murmuring her thanks, but still clung to Jeffery as if letting go would make him disappear.
At the station, the bright lights were almost blinding as they followed the officers into the interview room, recounting the events in detail.
Each mention of the perilous moments made Lyra's face pale, but Jeffery stayed by her side, holding her hand when needed.
By the time they finished, dawn had broken, sunlight spilling into the station's courtyard.
Jeffery hailed a cab, helping Lyra into the back seat before joining her.
Inside, Lyra leaned against Jeffery's shoulder, watching the familiar yet surreal cityscape pass by, everything seeming veiled in a dreamlike haze.
"Jeffery, after all this, I realize just being safe together is the greatest happiness. The little worries don't matter anymore," Lyra said softly, her voice carrying the weight of newfound insight.
Jeffery squeezed her hand, nodding slightly, "Yeah, from now on, no matter what, I'll keep you safe."
Back home, sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting warm patches on the floor.
Lyra headed straight to the bathroom, shedding her gasoline-scented clothes. The hot water cascaded down, filling the room with steam, as if washing away all the darkness.
Meanwhile, Jeffery went to the kitchen, quickly preparing two bowls of pasta.
When Lyra emerged, clean and dressed, the steaming bowls awaited on the table.
Jeffery pulled out a chair for her, speaking gently, "Eat something, regain your strength."
Lyra sat down, picking up her utensils, her eyes misting over as she looked at the simple yet heartfelt meal. She sniffed, "Thank you, Jeffery."
Jeffery reached out to gently ruffle her hair, about to speak when his phone buzzed urgently in his pocket.
He frowned slightly, a sense of unease creeping in, and answered the call, seeing it was from the police station.
After hanging up, Jeffery turned to Lyra.
"It was the station. They said preliminary checks suggest Clara might have an underlying mental health issue. It might have been dormant until now, and the extreme stress triggered her breakdown, making her actions uncontrollable."
"No wonder she wouldn't listen to reason, acting completely out of control."
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