Invincible(43)

“I didn’t hurt her,” I said. “Why… why are we here? Are you taking me in?”

“Do you want to go to jail? Are you confessing something?”

“No. I just don’t understand why we’re here,” I said. “If you want to question me…”

The detective stood up, the cigarette in his mouth. He opened his suit jacket and showed me his gun. “Do you want to question my actions?” he asked with the cigarette bouncing between his lips.

“No,” I said. “Sorry.”

“Good. Now let’s get back to my questions.” He took the cigarette out of his mouth. “I’m your only chance. You’re only hope, sweetheart.” He dropped the cigarette and stepped on it, twisting his foot like he was killing a bug. “Got that?”

“Yes. Detective…?”

“You don’t need my name. Tell me about Wes. Where have you two been staying?”

“Wes? What does he have to do with this?”

“So you killed Macie?”

“No!”

“Then who did?”

I opened my mouth but held back. Could I just give up Luke that fast? That easily?

“I wasn’t there,” I said, which was the truth. “I was out for a walk.”

“A walk? Interesting. So you have no idea who was in the hotel room when she was killed?”

“No.”

“And when you found her you fled?”

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes.”

“Why? Why would someone innocent do that?”

“You don’t understand,” I said. “Someone is after me. I thought they were going to kill me next.”

“And you didn’t think to ask for help?”

“You can’t help me,” I said. “If he wants…”

I lowered my head for a second. Nobody would ever understand what it was like. The only person close to understanding would be Wes. But I couldn’t drag him into this, not with the police here questioning me. He had nothing to do with Macie or her murder. He was just trying to help me.

“Look at me, Rose,” the detective said.

I lifted my head and he had his gun in his hand. He came forward and pressed the barrel to my forehead.

I let out a whimper. “What are you doing?”

“Ending this problem,” he said.

“What…”

“You did it. We all know. This is better. Just like this.”

I tried to move, kicking back in the chair. I fell back and hit the ground hard. The gun went off with a thundering boom.

The detective was then up on the desk, aiming down at me. Like a fool, I put my hands up, like that was going to somehow save my life.

A second later there was a thud against the door. The detective turned his head and shot at the door. I slipped back and got behind the tipped over chair. One of the wheels had snapped off when I fell. I grabbed it and threw it at the detective. It hit him in the stomach and did nothing.

He laughed and aimed at me again.

That’s when the window to the office exploded. I looked and saw a body rolling on the floor. A shirtless torso with long black hair. He got to his feet and wasted no time going for the detective’s legs.

Holy shit… it was Wes.



~



Wes pulled the detective’s legs and the guy crashed down with force. The gun went off again. Then again. I sat, huddled in the corner, unsure what to do. I didn’t want to get in the way and get shot or be the reason why Wes got shot.

Wes wound up and punched the detective in the face. Once, twice, the third shot so hard and sickening it made my stomach flip.

The detective was hurt but not out yet. Plus, he had the weapon. He had the only way it seemed possible to take down Wes. A bullet.

The two ended up on the floor on the other side of the desk. They scuffled and groaned. I heard grunting and then the sounds of punches being thrown again. All I could do was hug my knees and hope for the best. The story of my life.

Hugging my knees and hoping for the best.

Then the gun went off again.

What followed next was the worst silence I ever heard in my life. My ears rang from the gunshots being so close range. My heart pounded throughout my entire body like a rhythmic tremor. I was too afraid to move.

I tried to look under the desk, but I couldn’t see anything.

Then I heard something - someone - move. A scraping sound on the floor. A hand smacked the desk. Then another hand.

He’s pulling himself up. He’s got the gun. He’s going to shoot me. Fuck it, right? If Wes is dead… then I’ll go too. I have no reason to keep fighting without Wes. Without him I was truthfully nothing.

I stared at the desk, ready to face my fate, no matter what it was.

The first thing I saw was the hair.

The sweaty hair in his face. He threw his head back in the sexiest fashion I’d ever seen it done before. Sweat hit the other side of the room like rain drops to the ground. He was bleeding. He looked tired. But his eyes were on fire.

I jumped up and reached across the desk for him. “Wes… oh, Wes…”

“Sweetie,” he whispered. “He’s dead.”

“You killed him?”

“I don’t know. The gun went off. I don’t know if he did it by accident, on purpose, or if I hit the trigger. But he’s dead.”