Chapter 33
Eli
I was halfway up the path when I heard Marcus's ramblings. I couldn't make out the words yet, but the tone caught my attention. Sharp, erratic, too loud for the calm atmosphere of the park. My feet moved faster on instinct. When I rounded the last curve of the path, they came into view.
My eyes went straight to Rowan. He was upright. Conscious. Thank God for that. But he was on the ground, back to the wall with his hands bound in front of him, and there was blood on the side of his face.
I didn't even feel the cold anymore. My pulse surged, and all I could see was Marcus hovering over him with that look on his face.
I started toward them. I didn't know what I planned to do, but I was already closing the distance when Rowan saw me and his voice broke through everything else.
"He's got a gun!"
I stopped dead. He's got a what?
Marcus whipped his head around, and his eyes locked on mine. His expression didn't change much, maybe a flicker of surprise followed by something that looked more like annoyance. He turned back to Rowan long enough to shoot him a glare. "Always spoilin' my fun."
Then he brought the weapon around where I could see it.
Fucking hell. I'd prepped myself for a fight, but with fists and maybe a knife. Not a goddamn gun.
I needed the police here. Now.
But they weren't. I'd made another stupid move and stepped into this without any real plan and nothing to fight back with. I'd have to stall. Keep him distracted and give them time to get here.
I stepped forward slowly, hands up to show I didn't have any weapons and wasn't about to rush him. "Alright, Marcus. You wanted me. I'm here."
His arm snapped sideways, and he levelled the gun at Rowan's head. "One more step, and I blow his brains out."
I froze.
My heart kicked into overdrive. I flicked my eyes to Rowan. He was trying to stay calm, but I could see the tight line of his jaw, the way his shoulders tensed even more.
Shit.
My head spun with options I didn't have. If I lunged, he'd fire before I even got close. If I hesitated, he might pull the trigger just to prove a point. I couldn't risk either of those.
So I did the only thing I could think of. I kept my hands up, and somehow my voice came out steady, even though everything in me was about to crack. "You don't need him, Marcus. I'm the one who got in your way.."
He didn't lower the gun, but his stance wavered.
I moved a little closer. Not enough to trigger anything, but enough to keep his focus on me. "I'm the reason Rowan stood up to you. You want payback, then I'm right here."
Nothing.
"Don't pretend this is about him. If you kill him, you don't win."
For a second, I thought I'd pushed too far. But then his fingers twitched on the grip. Just a little. Then the barrel swung toward me.
I braced for the shot, but it didn't come.
That's when I saw that his finger hovered near the trigger, but not on it. For all the venom in his expression, something was stopping him. Some last sliver of hesitation wedged under all that chaos and hate, and it kept him from crossing the line completely.
Okay... I can use that...
I took a second to think about how to handle this, then said quietly, "Help me understand."
He blinked. Just once. His mouth tightened, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what I was doing.
"You think this is our fault, yeah? So explain it to me. I'm listening." I kept my tone even, no mockery or challenge. I just wanted to give him space to talk. If he was talking, at least he wasn't killing anybody.
His lip curled. "You think you're clever, don't ya? You don't know what happened."
"No, I don't. That's why I'm asking."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bit of movement from Rowan.
He was watching closely. Real close. His posture hadn't changed much, but the tension was all over him now.
His eyes flicked between me and Marcus, and I could see how hard he was trying to stay still.
He knew what I was doing and not to interrupt it.
Though the gun stayed pointed in my direction, it drifted down a bit. If I was honest, I didn't actually expect to get Marcus talking. But once he got started, he didn't stop. He couldn't resist the urge to control the story and justify himself.
"I tried to fix it. I didn't want things to go this way." He jabbed the air with the gun toward Rowan without looking at him. "He made me into the villain and turned everyone against me. Then you showed up and made it worse."
I took a tiny, creeping step forward. He didn't notice.
"You came in like some kind of fuckin' saviour," he snarled. "Puttin' ideas in his head. Tellin' him he was right. That I was unstable. You planted that! You made him turn on me!"
I moved again. A few inches closer. He still didn't see it.
I never said a word during his rant. I just let him fill the space with his own noise. Every time he started again, I used his distraction to get a little bit closer, always slow, always steady. I kept my shoulders loose, my hands up, and my eyes on him.
Not the gun. Not even Rowan. Him.
And he was too caught up in proving his point to realise how close I was getting.
His voice suddenly sharpened. "You didn't fix him. You just turned him against me. You made him scared of me."
I kept my tone flat. "He was already scared."
That made him flinch. His ranting stuttered, and his expression cracked. "You're twistin' it. He lied to you. That's what he does. He always plays the victim. You don't know the full story – "
"You put him in the hospital, Marcus."
His whole body locked up.
I didn't mean to interrupt him, but my mouth ran before I could stop it. His jaw locked. His fingers twitched on the gun. And for a split second, he went completely still.
"Shut up!!" He spun and turned the gun on Rowan.
I lunged and slammed into Marcus mid-turn, shoved his arm sideways just as the gun went off. The sound exploded in my ears. Rowan shouted, sharp and panicked, and for one sickening second, I thought he'd been hit.
But I didn't have time to look.
Marcus twisted to try to get free and get control of the weapon. I threw my weight into him, forcing the muzzle toward the ground. It fired into the dirt that time, though it came too close to my knee for comfort.
He was stronger than I expected. Desperation gave him speed and made him erratic. He clawed at me with his free hand, the other locked in a death grip on the gun. We grappled for what felt like a long time, but it couldn't have been more than a few seconds.
He slammed into me with his shoulder and nearly bucked me off. I managed to keep my grip on him, but when I lost my balance, we both tumbled to the ground.
Somehow – I don't even know how – I forced him onto his back. I pushed all of my weight onto him to keep him pinned, my arm pressing him down so he couldn't rear up on me. My other hand wrestled with his wrist, trying to pry the gun free.
He wouldn't let go, and he fought to get me off of him. I raised his arm and slammed it onto the pavement as hard as I could. The impact shuddered up my arm. He still held on, so I did it again. Harder. And again.
I heard something crack, and his whole body jerked. A choked, guttural sound caught in his throat as his fingers spasmed and the gun finally slipped loose.
He twisted and bucked to try to get me off of him, but I didn't let him go anywhere. The police couldn't be far away, and I intended to keep him still until they got here. His movements soon started to slow down, frantic in a way that said he knew he was losing.
Then I realised... His face was already red from the Farbgel, but it still didn't look right. It looked puffy, and his neck was straining under my weight. He wasn't just trying to fight me off anymore. He was struggling to breathe.
I hadn't meant to go for his neck. I just needed to make him stop struggling so I could get the gun away. As much as I hated him, I didn't want to choke him.
I pulled back fast and scrambled for the gun. My fingers closed around the grip, and I hurried away, breathing hard. Marcus was on his side now, wheezing and clutching at his throat as he tried to suck in air.
I stood between him and Rowan on instinct. I wanted – God, I needed – to look back and make sure Rowan was okay, that he wasn't bleeding out somewhere behind me. I didn't like that he'd gone silent. But I couldn't take my eyes off Marcus. I didn't trust him not to try again.
I levelled the gun at him. I'd never held one before and had no fucking clue what to do with it. But Marcus didn't know that. I hoped I could bluff him into staying still.
He sat up slow, still gasping. He cradled his arm against his chest, fingers curled in tight around the pain. I didn't feel bad.
Now that I could get a better look at him, I saw how messed up his face was. Scrapes from the scuffle, red and blotchy from the Farbgel. I barely held in a laugh. No wonder he was so pissed. Rowan got him pretty good.
That thought almost made me smile.
My voice cracked more than I meant it to as I called over my shoulder, "Rowan? You good?"
"I'm okay." He sounded hoarse and rattled, but his voice was strong.
Thank God.
I adjusted my grip on the gun, keeping it aimed at Marcus. He wasn't trying to get up anymore. Maybe the broken wrist or the fact that I had his weapon kept him still. Either way, he sat on the pavement, out of breath and glaring at me with that face that looked like it lost a fight with a tomato.
At long fucking last, I heard sirens.
They grew loud fast, and then I caught the screech of tyres as the cars stopped on the road. Within seconds, I heard movement coming up the path, saw the torches and uniforms. I almost sagged with relief –
Until the ones in front skidded to a stop and drew their tasers.
"Drop the gun!"
"Hands where we can see them!"
Shit, that's right. I had the gun.
Marcus caught my eye and smirked.
Even so, I didn't look away from him. I knew the police weren't going to take any chances, but I also didn't want to get zapped.
I took a deep breath and raised my hands slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves.
I loosened my grip on the gun to let it dangle by the trigger guard from my finger.
The barrel pointed harmlessly toward the sky, away from everything and everyone.
"Back up toward us! Keep your hands up!"
I did. One careful step at a time, eyes still locked on Marcus on the off chance he decided to be stupid. He didn't. He just continued to stare at me with that crooked grin.
"Stop! Put the weapon down!"
I let it slip from my finger and tossed it into the grass beside the path, well away from both of us.
A few officers rushed past me from behind. Two of them broke off toward Marcus. Another veered toward Rowan, crouching beside him with one hand on the radio clipped to his shoulder.
But I couldn't focus on any of that. Another cop stepped directly in front of me, taser still raised, eyes sharp and locked on mine. "On your knees."
My heart jumped, and I dropped down slowly. The cold asphalt bit through my jeans, but my hands stayed up. My chest was tight and my pulse loud in my ears. I knew they were just following the rules, but that didn't make it any easier to breathe.
Behind me, I heard more footsteps. A second officer moved in fast, grabbed my wrists, and yanked them behind my back. The cuffs snapped on quick and tighter than necessary, but I didn't argue. I didn't dare make any sudden moves.
The cop in front of me finally lowered the taser, but he didn't immediately take his eyes off me. His gaze flicked sideways to Marcus, then back to me with a confused look. "Is that Farbgel?"
I didn't know if it was safe to speak, so I just nodded.
The officer behind me spoke up. "What do we do with them?"
The first one hesitated. Then he said, "Detain them both. We'll get an ambulance for the other one and post a guard with him."
The cuffs dug in tighter as I was hauled to my feet. I didn't get much room to move on my own. The officer turned me toward the path and steered me down to the road. I didn't resist. What was the point? It would just make me look worse.
My thoughts spun too fast to hold on to any of them. I didn't know how bad this was going to get, but I knew Marcus would twist this in every possible way he could to make himself look like the victim.
Behind me, I heard a sudden shout. I couldn't make out the words, but I knew Rowan's voice. It was hoarse and frantic, and it cut through everything else. I tried to turn around, but the cop kept pulling me forward.
"Sir, you need to sit down," another voice said. "Just stay there, alright?"
I couldn't make out Rowan's answer, but I picked up on the panic in his tone.
Next thing I knew, I was shoved into the back of the police car.
The door slammed shut to seal me inside, the interior dim and too warm after being out in the cold.
I couldn't hear much of what was going on up the path, and I couldn't see much, either, without completely twisting myself around to look out the rear windscreen.
I tried to force myself to calm down. Logically, I knew this would work out. It had to. But Marcus had a squeaky-clean image and no paper trail of the things he'd done. Right now, I looked like the aggressor.
I clenched my jaw and stared at the metal gate that separated the front seat from the back. I hated this. I hated that even now, Marcus was still trying to control the narrative.
My foot slammed into the back of the front seat with a loud, sharp thud. The force of it rattled my bones. "FUCK!!"
The curse tore out of me before I could bite it back. My voice sounded rough to my own ears, cracking under the weight of everything pressing in on me. My breaths came in sharp, ragged bursts, and my heart pounded so hard it gave me a headache.
After a moment, I did my best to shove the rage back down. Losing it in the back of a police car wouldn't help anything. I had to remind myself that I'd get out of this. I still had some leverage.