Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 72561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
I waited.
He’d make a mistake here soon, and I’d take advantage. Take him down quietly.
No fuss meant no men checking up on it.
“What’s that look for, Rector?” Mick asked uncertainly.
I hadn’t realized I’d been smiling, but I quickly wiped the smile off my face and stared at him blankly.
It wouldn’t do to give away my hand just yet.
I had to find out where the other three men were.
Then all bets were off.
Or they would’ve been, if Channing’s stupid brother hadn’t come in guns blazing.
“You stupid fuck! You said you wouldn’t hurt my sister!” Andrew yelled.
He’d obviously never handled a gun before, either.
Because he was holding it like the old school gangsters on TV with the barrel turned sideways and held above his head.
He kept jabbing the gun in Mick’s direction, slinging insults all the while Mick stared at him drolly.
“You done?” Mick asked once Andrew paused to take a breath.
His gun hand was shaking, showing his obvious discomfort with the situation.
I knew where this was heading, but the two of them were advancing on each other, booking no room for arguments or interruptions.
“No, you stupid prick. You said if I brought Varian here, you’d leave my sister alone. You said you only wanted him,” he gestured towards me with the gun.
I froze, afraid if I made any sudden moves it’d set Andrew off, and then he’d start shooting.
“You knew what you were signing up for. Don’t act all emotional now. You know,” Mick said turning his back on Andrew. “Bryce, did you know that Andrew was the one who set up your precious little woman all those years ago?”
I looked at him, confused.
“What?” I asked.
“No!” Andrew screamed.
Spit flew out of his mouth, and his eyes, which had already looked squirrely, turned positively manic.
Mick smile.
I saw it happen. I knew it was about to happen, and there wasn’t one damn thing I could do about it. Not if I wanted to live. Not if I wanted Channing to live.
Mick pulled his gun out from his holster, calmly aimed, and fired.
“No!” I yelled, but it didn’t matter.
The gun barked. Mick’s hand jumped with the reverberation of the gun, and I stared in horror as Andrew’s lifeless body dropped down to the ground.
One clean hole in the space where his nose had recently occupied.
The smell of gunpowder filled the air, and I watched the blood spread across the black tiled floor in fascinated horror.
My hands went to my hair, and I breathed in deep. This was going to kill Channing. Absolutely kill her.
“Piece of shit,” Mick growled, before turning back to me, gun still in hand.
“Want to know what this’ll play out as? A cop killing a madman who had two cops and a civilian held captive. Too bad the mad man killed the hostages before I could save y’all, right?” He provoked.
Then he leveled his gun into the air, took aim, and my eyes closed. Not wanting to see it coming.
“Don’t get up,” I heard Parker say from behind me just as a gunshot rent the air.
I stared, heart pounding wildly as Mick fell back to his back, clutching his chest.
“He’s got a vest on,” I managed to get out.
Mick started laughing. “Oh, Peter Parker Penn. This is rich. Does Bryce here know who you are?” Mick coughed.
Parker stripped him of his weapon, found the keys to my cuffs, and tossed them to me.
I quickly unlatched the cuffs, pocketed the keys, and withdrew my gun in one swift move, leveling it on Parker.
“What the fuck is he talking about?” I snapped.
Parker’s eyes went from me back to Mick who was laughing and groaning in one seemingly long expel of breath.
Parker got the cuffs on Mick’s side, rolled him over quickly, and cuffed his arms together behind his back.
Mick heaved. “He’s the one who slit your throat, Bryce. How perfect is this? It’s like a fucking family reunion!”
I blinked, unsure what to say.
Lowering the gun, I stared at Parker, finally realizing what it was about him.
I knew him a long, long time ago.
“That true?” I asked, raising my gun again.
Sterling came in with one arm under Cleo’s, supporting half his bodyweight.
Sterling sat him down, and took in the interaction between me and Parker.
He was torn. I could see he was torn. However, he chose me, coming to stand directly behind me.
“What’s going on?” Sterling asked.
“Parker’s the one who gave me this decorative necklace,” I explained to him, fingering my neck, and the scar that ringed it.
Sterling stayed silent as Parker’s head hung. “It’s true.”
I lowered my gun, and then re-holstered it. “Are there anymore out there?”
Sterling shook his head. Cleo was the one who answered though.
“Nope. There were only four of them. I think they spread themselves too thin. They didn’t do much recon when they were hitting this place. Otherwise they would’ve known the room was divided into practically two halves. Lucky for us they didn’t, otherwise we all would’ve been tagged with that grenade,” Cleo declared.
I kept my eyes on Parker, who’d looked up at me in confusion.
“I’ve regretted that day for fifteen years,” Parker said quietly.
I blinked. “You’ve regretted it? You nearly killed me.”
He shook his head. “I was a nine year old kid. I was dumb and full of myself. I have nightmares. I live those moments over and over in my sleep. My dreams are on repeat. They’re on a continuous loop of when you looked at me in such horror. Remembering what it felt like…sounded like when the knife sliced through your skin. It’s nauseating, and I hear it in my sleep.”
I stared at him for a long time, ignoring Mick’s snickers at how awkward the situation was.
I wasn’t mad at Parker, though. I’d have done the same thing when I first got in, too.
It was hard not to. It was either survive or die in those times, and I had a feeling the same went for Parker, too.
“Fuck,” I said scrubbing my hands over my face.
“Yes, please,” Cleo grinned.
I flipped him the bird and went to the holding cells.