Leave Me Love (Call Me Cat Trilogy #2)(35)

"This is where I escape my evil captor, kill you in self-defense—which I'll feel super bad about even though you did awful things to me, because I'll remember the times we were friends, all those happy memories—and it will break me up, wondering how you could have done these things." Her voice took on a different tone, one the press would eat up as real tears slid down her face.

She wiped away the tears and smiled again. "They won't be able to get enough of my story."

"Please Bridgette, don't." My tears were real and so was my fear.

"Please Bridgette, don't," she mimicked in a mocking tone. "How do you not see what a whiny bitch you are?"

Bridgette held the gun toward me, her finger twitching on the trigger. I reached behind me and grabbed the first thing I could find. A wrench. I threw it at her, hitting her shoulder, and ducked. The gun went off, shooting into the wall as I tackled Bridgette and tried to remember what Ash taught me about disarming someone.

I managed to knock the gun away from her. She gasped, fighting back with a punch that missed my face. I gripped something, the wrench I'd thrown, and raised it over my head.

With a whack, I slammed it against her head.

She slumped to the floor.

In a frenzy of fear and adrenaline I searched for her phone so I could call for help. The cabin didn't have a phone line, and my cell phone was on the highway somewhere.

Finally spotting it just a few feet away, I reached for Bridgette's phone and was just about to grab it when the lights went out. It was so dark I couldn't tell if my eyes were open or closed.

Then I heard footsteps coming toward me.





Chapter Thirty One


Smoking Gun


THE KILLER WAS in the room. Someone who needed the book. Someone who was working with Bridgette. I felt around for the phone and my hand landed on it. Using flashes of light from the phone, I found the gun that had been kicked away.

With gun in hand, I tried to put my back to a wall, but I couldn't tell where the wall was. I flashed the phone and saw nothing but the empty bed across the room.

I moved back, stumbling into the pot full of shit and flashed the phone again. Nothing.

My breath came short and fast, head pounding with the beat of my heart, eyes buzzing, everything dipping and turning like a funhouse mirror. I tried to focus, and flashed the phone light again.

I saw a person dressed in black from head to toe, face covered. A gun fired and I dropped to my knees, crawling, trying to avoid a bullet in the dark.

I shot in the direction I heard the shots coming from. Bang. Bang. Bang. I strained to hear if someone cried out in injury, but I heard nothing but the ringing in my ears and the sound of gunshots.

I shot again and then click. The gun was empty. Crawling around in the dark, my hand sliding in the excrement I knocked over, I searched for another weapon and found the wrench I'd dropped.

Someone smacked their lips in the dark. I flashed the phone and saw nothing.

Another flash of light.

And another.

Bits and pieces of the empty room came into view and disappeared.

And then the light flashed and the killer was there. I charged toward the person in black, tackling them to the ground. We fought each other. Legs and arms tangled up in kicks and punches and muffled screams. I knocked the gun out of their hand, but their fingers clawed at my neck, choking me. I grabbed their face, tearing off the mask though I still couldn't see them.

I felt a nose, dug my nails into their cheek. My hand grabbed a fist full of their hair and I pulled, using the last of my strength to focus, to try and breathe, though it was becoming more and more difficult.

The person pulled back, fighting their way out of my grip. I flashed the phone again. Again. Again.

I heard footsteps.

More flashes of light.

Piece by piece.

Flash by flash.

The smell, it took over.

Memories came back.

A distinctive perfume only one person I knew used.

Sweet.

Strong.

I flashed again and saw.

Lauren. Her hair wild, eyes mad, shrieking with a trickle of blood running down her cheek. She lunged at me, knife in hand, but a gun exploded behind us, deafening me, making the ringing louder.

Flashing the phone again I saw Lauren. Collapsed. Dead. Her body covering my legs, pinning me to the ground.

Standing over her was Bridgette, the proverbial smoking gun in hand.

Pointing it at me.





Chapter Thirty Two


Leave Me Love


BRIDGETTE HELD THE gun, her face a mask of shock, then she dropped it, shouting. She threw herself into my arms, crying and hugging. My tears came too, pouring out of me as the tension and fear drained away. We both wept, clutching at each other, shaking like leaves in a storm.

***

"It was all a set up," I said, sitting on a couch in the cabin between Bridgette and Ash.

Detective Gray waved his pen at Bridgette. "You mean, you never—"

Bridgette shook her head. "No one kidnapped me."

Gray jotted something down in his notebook as officers searched the cabin. "So why disappear? Why frame your friend?"

Bridgette grabbed my hand, squeezed it. "I was contacted by the Midnight Murderer while Catelyn was in the hospital. Lauren—though I didn't know who it was at the time—threatened to kill my family if I didn't cooperate. The only way she'd spare me and the people I loved was if I got ahold of Alice's book and research. I knew nothing about the book. She said my parents would die."