Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
W ithin seconds, footsteps thunder down the hallway, and the roar of voices yelling similar statements rings in my ears. Cass’s hands go up as two officers round the corner, guns drawn. Virgil hangs onto Reagan, who’s doing a very good job of still being insane.
“She attacked me,” I tell the cops before they can get the wrong idea. “She was holding me here and told my boyfriend to come here so she could kill him.”
“He’s not your boyfriend,” Reagan sneers. “Jesus Christ, Winnie, what the hell is wrong with you?!” It’s crazy to me that she’s here acting like she’s the wronged party.
“She had these.” Virgil tosses the knife and taser to the floor, then steps away from them.
“Okay. Umm…” The cops glance at each other, and one tilts his head. The other holsters his gun and steps forward, handcuffs in his grip.
“Just calm down, okay?” he tells Reagan, holding a hand up as if to placate a wild animal. “We’ll get this all figured out.”
“And I’m guessing you have evidence that she kidnapped your girlfriend and told you to come here?” Trudeau rounds the corner, looking Reagan over. “That’s not necessary, Herner.” He waves off the officer, who looks unsure. “Does she really look like a threat here?”
“Uh, excuse me? Do you not see my face?” I gesture to my temple, but Trudeau barely looks interested. “The little girl we were babysitting will tell you that we aren’t lying. She was afraid of Reagan. That’s why I confronted her.” When Reagan is let go I take a step back warily.
“You expect me to believe this girl took all of you on with a taser and a knife? Especially you, Mr. Byers?” Trudeau turns his toad-like gaze on Cassian, who hitches a grin over his lips.
“Well, she didn’t win, or you wouldn’t be here.” He leans back against the wall and eyes Trudeau with dislike.
The detective doesn’t relent, but he does have his officers take Reagan outside before telling us to file out behind her. With Trudeau taking up the rear with Cassian, I strain to hear their muttered conversation. But the only thing I hear is Cass’s humorless chuckle, and something like a hissed threat from Trudeau.
“Just keep walking. They’re fine.” Virgil plants his hands on my shoulders when I start to hesitate, and shoves me out the door in a quick, forward march.
“Okay, okay.” Shooing his hands off my shoulders, I don’t miss the quick way he steps back. “You don’t like me,” I comment, and watch as he grimaces.
“I don’t really like most people. But I suppose if you stick around then I’ll have no choice but to grow somewhat attached. And judging by him , you aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. I guess.” He doesn’t really sound thrilled by it. “Don’t take it personally.” I watch as he strides away, to the side of the driveway closest to the cop cars where Sophie is hugging a stuffed elephant to her chest and twisting first one direction, then the other. Virgil murmurs something that brings a tiny smile to her face, and I can’t help letting out a breath of relief.
“She wanted to go in and get you.” Cass’s voice in my ear is soft and I glance up at him as Trudeau walks past us to go stand near Reagan. I can’t hear whatever he’s saying to her, and I’m pretty sure I don’t care.
“Sophie?” I tilt my head. “You sure?”
“Yeah. She was fully ready to launch a rescue mission and had procured a pair of kid’s scissors to cut you free. Virgil told her they might not work and he had something better.” I can hear the smile in his words, and I lean into him with a sigh.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I feel like this is my fault. You know she did all of it, right?” Looking at Reagan I see that Trudeau is now the one holding her, and the other two officers are standing with Virgil and Sophie. Though as I watch, one moves toward the growing crowd standing on the sidewalk, throwing out the normal warnings about this being an active crime scene.
Cass nods and reaches up to brush my hair back from my face. “I know, princess. She seems pretty offended that you’re mine. Shame.” He leans in close and brushes his lips lightly to mine in a sweet, chaste kiss. “We’re going to have to talk about this later, you know,” he adds shrewdly, eyes narrowing.
Bemused, I tip my head back to narrow my eyes at him. “Excuse me?”
“You went and got yourself tied up, hurt, and had someone confess their psychotic love to you. That’s my territory.” His tone is teasing, for the most part, with something dark and so very him lingering in the back of his words. God, I really should be more afraid of him.
“You can lecture me on what to look for in the future so I don’t get myself into this situation again. But I’m a visual learner. Also, chocolate helps me focus.” He gives a quick, affectionate roll of his blue eyes and grins at me as Virgil wanders back over.
“The kid’s surprisingly…aggressive. She has some pretty bold thoughts about Reagan and what she did.” He glances back at the little girl, who’s twisting again with her stuffed elephant as the officer next to her rambles on the phone.
But I guess I shouldn’t expect better. With a sigh I leave Virgil and Cassian to their quiet conversation, feeling suddenly tired and older than I am. “Hey,” I tell Sophie, dropping to sit in the grass beside her. “Weird night, huh?”
“Really weird.” She doesn’t quite stop her nervous fidgeting, but she does slow down and I can see her looking at me from the corner of her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“I’m all good. I heard you were ready to lead an armed militia to save me.”
Sophie is quiet for a few seconds. “What’s a militia?” she asks finally, mostly still and actually looking at me instead of pretending not to.
“You’re making me feel old.” I cross my legs under me, leaning forward, just as a flurry of movement catches my attention from near the police cars. Someone shrieks and the movement that catches my eye is Reagan as she lunges for the cop facing the crowd while Trudeau…
Watches.
His expression is thoughtful and closed off, and I realize that with his position behind the car, the crowd on the other side can’t see how he’s not really attempting to stop Reagan.
Did he let her go ? The thought hits me just as his face falls, surprise and panic contorting his features. “No!” he barks, exploding into motion and fumbling for the gun he isn’t carrying.
For a moment I don’t understand his delayed reaction, at least until I turn back to where Reagan went. The officer is on the ground and struggling to his knees, while the other one works to free his own gun. And Reagan, for her part, is holding the stolen gun in both hands, the muzzle dipping with each tremble of her hands but not deviating much from its target.
Me.
“Reagan, stop!” Cass is yelling more than just that, but I can’t hear him over the ringing in my ears. My heart pounds, thrumming through my whole body once.
Twice.
Reagan grins, her lips parting so she can mouth the word sorry into the air between us. I see her fingers shift and I shove to my feet, my body immediately entering flight-or- faster flight mode. “Don’t,” I whisper, knowing she can’t hear me.
Is this how my dad felt, I wonder, in those few seconds while he faced down the muzzle of the gun I held?
Did every possibility in the universe flicker through his head between one heartbeat and the next as his brain screamed at him to do something ?
Was he too shocked to be truly afraid, just like I am?
The gun goes off and my stomach jolts, just as something knocks Reagan off her feet. My ears ring, and I hold my breath, expecting to feel some kind of burning pain at any microsecond.
But I don’t.
The gun clatters to the ground and is scooped up by Trudeau. When I blink, I see Cass has wrestled Reagan to the ground while she screams and writhes like a feral animal. Then he leans in closer to her, his lips moving rapidly near her ear and a savage smile on his lips that’s in no way friendly or compassionate.
Whatever he says to her makes Reagan scream. She screams and screams, the sound becoming a wail as the officers drag her up and clip cuffs on her without waiting for Trudeau’s permission.
They escort her to the police car and I see Virgil standing next to Trudeau, his eyes are bright and he’s speaking conversationally, though I can’t hear the words.
The detective’s eyes flick to me, and he opens his mouth, only for my sight to be obscured when Cass grabs me, crushing me to his chest.
“Fuck, Winnie,” he chokes out, his voice raw and hoarse as I struggle for air.
“She got a gun,” I murmur, and when I remember it went off, I jerk back, looking at him. “Holy shit, did she shoot you? Did she?—?”
“No. She didn’t hit anyone. I’m okay, you’re okay.” He cradles my face in his hands, eyes never leaving mine. “Fuck, you’re okay.” He repeats it a few more times, until I drag him closer to me and press our foreheads together.
“Holy shit,” I breathe, unable to say anything else. “Like…” An ambulance rolls up into the driveway, separating us from the crowd of gawkers on the sidewalk. “Holy shit, Cass. How did she even get his gun?”
When he doesn’t reply, I look up, surprised to see his eyes like shards of ice. Though the look isn’t directed at me. Again he pulls me to his body, encircling me with his arms, as footsteps approach from around the ambulance.
“I am so sorry, Miss Campbell.” Trudeau’s voice shakes on the words, and for the first time he sounds like he means what he’s saying. “She got away from me and…Well, I never thought she’d point the gun at you.”
“Because you thought she’d shoot me instead.” Cass’s words are soft and almost inaudible, but I know Trudeau can hear him. I jerk back to look up, then glance over my shoulder at the detective.
He isn’t denying it.
Before I can say anything, though, paramedics are between us, asking for details. Within seconds, I’m scooped up by my psychotic boyfriend and laid down on a stretcher. “I’m fine,” I tell them, trying to sit up only for the female paramedic to push me back down.
“You’ve got a nasty bump on your head, miss,” she informs me, not unkindly. “And I’d like to get you checked out.”
“Don’t argue, please? For my peace of mind?” Cass chuckles, giving me a small grin.
“Sure, I’ll go. As long as you’re there suffering with me. I at least get to…” I trail off when he looks away, a flicker of guilt on his face that makes my heart twist. “Please come with me.”
“I can’t yet. Trust me though, okay? You won’t even have time to miss me, I promise.” I don’t know how to reply to that. I also can’t figure out what could be so important that he won’t come with me, so I just nod jerkily, able to see the look of guilt he can’t chase off his expression.
“Just close your eyes and I’ll be there before you know it, okay princess?” Cass reaches out and tucks my hair behind my ear. “I swear.”
Again I just nod, opening my eyes when the paramedics lift the stretcher into the ambulance. A smaller shape follows, and Sophie sits down on the bench near me, not caring that the female paramedic was definitely about to sit there. “Don’t worry, Winnie,” she says, tucking her stuffed elephant into the crook of my arm. “I’ll hold your hand while you get any shots.”
“If there are shots involved, I’m rioting.” I sigh, leaning back against the head of the stretcher as the ambulance starts moving, crawling out of the driveway. “I hate needles.” But I don’t hear Sophie’s answering reply, or whatever the paramedic says to her. I’m too busy staring through the small windows at where Cass and Virgil are standing on either side of Trudeau with looks on their faces I hope to never see again.
Cass doesn’t show up at the hospital, but in his defense, I’m only there for a couple of hours. Lou comes to pick me up, asking questions and worrying over me enough that I don’t get to go home. Instead, she demands I spend the night with her, and even goes so far as to make me the same hot cocoa she used to make when we were kids while I text Sophie’s parents to make sure she’s all right.
But as good as it is, it means I won’t get to see Cassian tonight. There’s no way Lou won’t kill him, and I can’t handle more of that tonight. He answers when I text, though, apologizing again for not coming to the hospital.
I promise I’ll explain , he texts back. I’m sorry. I love you .
I’m not even mad. Not really. I just miss him, and I stare at my phone, reading the words again.
I love you .
Do I love him too?
What if I don’t love you? I text back finally, and his answer is quick and free of any anger that I can see.
I’ll present to you my six-step plan in the morning of how I’ll change that. Can you try to get some sleep for me, princess? You have to be tired, and I know your head hurts. We already discussed my lack of a concussion, and my killer headache that feels like it’s going to be a migraine.
While I really do want him here, I can’t help but admit that more than anything I just want to pass out and leave this headache behind.
You’d better be doing something important , I finally tell him, curling my legs up while trying not to disturb Minxy too much.
Really important. I wouldn’t be away from you for anything else.
And you owe me . I smile up at Lou when she makes a comment about what we’re watching, though I’m not really sure what she said.
I owe you the stars, and I’ll give you every single one . Good night, princess. I’ll say it again for you: I love you .
I’ll consider if I love you too. That’s the best I’ll give him, at least for tonight.
Knowing it’s the end of the conversation, I place my phone on the end table and pick up my drink, fingers stroking over Minxy’s ears as the cat purrs in satisfaction. My sleepy attention drifts back to whatever Halloween movie Lou has on, content to zone out in contentment.