Novels by Gem

The police precinct loomed ahead like it was swallowing the sky.Concrete. Barbed wire. Cameras. All of it screaming, “You don’t belong here.”But Davion didn’t stop walking.Beverly walked beside him, her fingers laced through his. On his other side, Reika had her phone in one hand, pepper spray in the other, because of course she did. Wilson trailed behind, carrying the laptop like it was a bomb he didn’t want to drop.No one said anything at first.It was that kind of silence. The kind that usually comes before a storm.Davion’s hoodie was pulled low over his face, but not to hide. Just enough to remind the world that he wasn’t afraid of it.“I feel like I should say something inspiring,” Beverly muttered. “But I’m mostly trying not to throw up.”“Same,” Wilson said. “If they try to separate us, I’m playing dumb. Like, full ‘what’s a USB port?’ level dumb.”Reika glanced at Davion. “You sure you wanna do this?”He didn’t answer right away. Then:“I’ve run enough.”They reached the

The sirens got louder. Closer.Beverly’s fingers trembled as she stuffed the phone into her hoodie pocket. “We have to move. Now.”Reika grabbed a flashlight from her bag. “Back route?”Wilson was already heading for the busted side door. “Yeah. Before backup shows up and assumes we’re part of this mess again.”Davion stood over Reaper, who was bleeding and smiling like a man who still thought he had the last laugh. “They’re coming for you.”Reaper coughed and spat blood. “So? You think cuffs scare me? I built the nightmares they put in cages.”Davion leaned in, his voice razor-sharp. “Then rot in one.”Reika grabbed Davion’s arm. “Cops, remember? We need to not be here when they show.”He gave Reaper one last look—nothing left to say—and turned away.They ran.Out the side door. Through the broken gate. Feet slamming gravel and adrenaline buzzing in their ears.Beverly didn’t look back. Couldn’t. Not when they were this close. Not when the truth had finally been dragged into the ligh

The rooftop stream had gone viral overnight. By morning, hashtags like #DavionDidntDoIt and #ExposeReaper were trending in three different cities. People were posting reaction videos, dissecting every second, every word.Beverly refreshed the page again, watching the views tick higher. Five million. Six.Reika leaned over her shoulder, sipping an energy drink. “You know you’ve officially broken the internet, right?”Beverly blinked. “Doesn’t feel like it. Feels like we’re still one step behind.”“We are,” Wilson muttered, pacing back and forth. “Reaper’s still out there. The cops still think Davion’s a fugitive. We’ve basically become a punk version of Scooby-Doo.”Reika grinned. “So what you’re saying is, I’m Velma.”Wilson scowled. “Obviously I’m Velma.”Davion didn’t laugh.He stood by the boarded-up window, arms folded, hoodie damp from the rain. His jaw was locked tight, eyes focused on the skyline like it held all the answers.Beverly walked over slowly. “Hey. You okay?”He didn

Rain tapped a slow, mocking rhythm against the rooftop concrete. The city lights shimmered on wet surfaces like diamonds scattered in mud. Standing at the edge, five figures—a ragtag crew bound by fire and betrayal—faced the flashing lights of surveillance vans and patrol cars below.Beverly’s voice cut through the quiet. “Where do we go from here?”Davion pulled her into his side. “Forward. No hesitation.”Reika, ever the strategist, retrieved a small wireless mic from her pocket and clicked it to life. “Time to go public,” she said, voice low but fierce. “Let the world know who we are—and what they stole from us.”Wilson smacked Davion’s shoulder. “Lead the way, boss.”Davion swallowed, then raised his voice: “We’re live now. Everybody deserves a shot at the truth—our truth.”He hit the “stream” button on the phone in his hand. Immediately, tiny lights on cameras and phones around them blinked on, creating a halo of glow in the drizzle.Back on the street, a uniformed cop stared up,

Beverly crouched behind the dumpster, rain slicking her hair, as the sirens wailed closer. Rooftop lights painted the alley blood-red, but she didn’t flinch. Not tonight.From behind the chain-link fence, Reika whispered, “Shit’s escalating fast.”Wilson, in the driver’s seat of the SUV idling out front, kept his eyes sharp on the rearview mirror. “Traffic’s a nightmare. We get one shot at this.”Beverly nodded, voice just above a breath. “What’s the plan?”Reika slid the map out of her backpack. “We split. I take control room backup—camera hijacks, emergency override. Wash their feeds to Davion’s side. Make sure Reaper can’t cover his tracks.” She tapped a street name. “You and Davion meet me at 5th Street rooftop.”Wilson yelled over the rain hitting the metal dumpster lid. “Why 5th?”Reika gave him that look: precise, unblinking. “Cameras blind spot. Radio signal strong. Away from the station patrols.”Beverly swallowed. “Okay. Let’s move.”Two blocks away, Davion slipped through a

Beverly woke up before sunrise, her chest tight as panic that rattled her to the core slid in like ice. The city outside was already stirring—cars, footsteps, distant sirens—but inside that tiny safehouse living room, everything was silent.She wiped the crust from her eyes and whispered, “Come on, people, it’s showtime.”Reika, already dressed, was spreading a map out on the coffee table. “You ready for your TED talk?”Beverly snorted. “More like ‘truth in twenty minutes, or bust.’”Wilson stumbled in, clutching a coffee mug like his life depended on it. “You’re doing WHAT at the station?”Beverly gave him a pointed look. “A press event.”Wilson nearly choked. “That’s… that’s bold.”“It’s necessary,” Beverly said, voice hardening. “Davion’s out there, locked up for something he didn’t do. The world needs to see the real footage.”Reika nodded. “Got the viral video queued. I’ve already reached out to three local reporters. One will livestream the event. We make a statement, drop the h