Walk Through Fire (Chaos #4)(171)

He kept speaking.

“In fact, later today, there will be a man who will come forward, confessing to these killings. He’ll have the gun used. And he’ll share all about how he did this in retribution for what was done to you.”

I stared at him some more.

I’d heard about things like that. Saw it on TV. A bad guy paying someone to take the fall, maybe promising to take care of his family, doing it huge to make it worth the sacrifice.

“Anyway, Millie,” he carried on. “A win isn’t really a win unless there are losers left standing.”

“So you’re gonna leave me alive,” I repeated.

“Yes,” he confirmed.

Okay, I was more than a little done.

“Could you do that about now?” I requested.

He grinned before he creeped me way the f*ck out by saying, “You know, I think I actually like you.”

“I’m totally showering for three hours when I get home,” I muttered.

He burst out laughing.

I didn’t move a muscle.

He stopped laughing, lifted his gun, and I remained immobile, my eyes locked to his weapon as he wagged it at me.

“Yes, I like you. I get Judd. Those two uppity bitches who’re leading Allen and Kincaid around by their cocks, I don’t get. But you might be fun.”

I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t think of what to say.

Though I thought perhaps I should keep him talking. I figured the more he played with me, the longer he was hanging around, I knew Logan, Chaos, and more than likely Chaos’s cop buddies were tearing Denver apart looking for me, so they might find us. If he wanted to be standing around having a conversation when they did, it wasn’t me who was going to stop him.

Though I wished I hadn’t dropped the ice. My eye was hurting like a bitch.

“No comeback?” he prompted.

“My eye kinda hurts and this conversation is definitely getting boring,” I replied.

“Then I’ll leave you,” he said.

I tried not to look excited as I contradictorily tried to think of ways to get him to stay and do that without moving him to murder me.

“Would it be foolish to ask that you wait ten minutes after I leave before you make your call?” he requested.

“Yes,” I declined his request.

That amused him too.

God, I f*cking hated this guy.

“When this is over, if you want to f*ck a winner, I’ll be sure a line’s opened to you,” he offered.

Okay, now I was going to have to shower for four hours.

I didn’t reply.

He grinned his disturbing grin. “Until then, Millie.”

I stayed silent.

He moved, walking to the door like he was just walking to the door. Not like he was walking through two corpses with half their heads blown off.

I swallowed bile and looked away from the bodies. I didn’t like Pedro and Carlos much but I preferred to see them shackled and breathing, not this way.

The door closed.

I didn’t run to it to lock it. I wasn’t going anywhere near there.

Instead I jumped to the bed, crawled on hands and knees to the phone on the opposite side, and reached for it. I took it with me as I turned my back to the carnage, curling into myself.

I didn’t have Logan’s number memorized because I had it in my phone and I could just press the screen to get him.

I was memorizing it later that day for sure.

I called 911.

I reported my emergency.

I made it through giving the operator my name, the motel, the room number, my location, and the fact I’d just witnessed a double homicide before I dropped my forehead to my knees and dissolved into tears.

In other words, I held it together through the important stuff and fell apart only when no one was watching (even though the 911 operator was listening).

Like any good old lady should.

I was standing outside the motel room on a walkway exposed to the elements, surrounded by uniformed police officers, squad cars glutting the parking lot below, folks everywhere. Out of their rooms and standing outside the police barrier that an officer was now rolling out to span the parking lot.

When the first unit had arrived, they’d thankfully not wasted any time and even more thankfully the brawnier one picked me up and carried me out of the room so I didn’t get anything on my bare feet that would never mentally wash off.

An added plus to this was I got to shove my face in his neck so I didn’t see anything more than I’d already seen even if what I’d seen was burned into my brain.

I didn’t need more.

I’d barely been out there five minutes, only long enough for them to get a blanket to wrap around my shoulders and pull a chair from another room so I could sit on it, I was trembling so badly. I’d just begun to share what happened when I heard the roar.

My head jerked so I could look over my shoulder and I saw them roll in in formation.

And I was not surprised to see that Tack wasn’t leading the crew.

Logan was.

Like he had Millie Radar, he rode in, eyes up and on me.

“Mizz Cross, I know you’re Chaos but I need you to stick with me,” the officer said quickly.

I didn’t stick with him.

I jumped out of my seat and ran, sprinting down the walkway, the blanket falling from my shoulders, my eyes glued to Logan who had parked his bike outside the police tape and he was dismounting.