Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
The bastard yelled when the bullet tore into his shoulder. The knife clattered from his fingers and fell, and then the prick—he ran. He turned, and he lunged away from Victor. Away from the station. He plunged into the darkness.
Oh, the hell, no.
Victor chased after him. That sonofabitch had just tried to attack Melody. No way did he get to just escape into the night.
And Victor wasn’t the only one giving chase. He could hear the pounding footsteps behind him. Angus. Melody. Angus was bellowing for the perp to stop.
Spoiler alert, he wasn’t stopping. If anything, he just ran faster. Victor looked down. Beneath the street lamps, he could see spots of blood on patches of snow that still lingered on the pavement.
“Dammit, stop!” Angus’s order. “Don’t make me shoot you, too!”
What the fuck?
Victor glanced over his shoulder, then slowed because the freaking detective was running at him with his gun aimed. What in the hell?
Huffing, puffing, Angus barreled toward him. “You’re not…cop. Stop…giving chase!”
Oh, yeah, screw that.
But when he whirled again, the perp—shit, the perp had vanished.
Victor stilled. You don’t get to escape. Oh, hell, no.
“Where is he?” Angus demanded. “Where did the sonofabitch go?”
They’d lost illumination from the street lamps and had slipped into a dark alley.
“Victor?” Melody’s careful voice. His head whipped toward her.
“Victor, you’re okay?”
No, he was seething with rage, and he damn well should have made certain the punk didn’t escape. But what mattered most right then… “You’re okay.” She was safe. She hadn’t been stabbed.
Melody nodded.
He yanked out his phone. He hit the button for the flashlight and shone it on the ground. And sure enough, the trail was clear for them to see. Blood. Wet, dark drops that have to be blood.
“Stay the hell back,” Angus thundered. “I’ve got this!” He pulled out a flashlight, directed it at the ground, and rushed after the blood drops.
But, no, Victor did not stay the hell back. He did clamp his hand around Melody’s wrist, though. Because he wasn’t about to run off and leave her alone. For all he knew, this was some divide-and-conquer bullshit, and he wasn’t going to let her stay unprotected. Where he went, she went.
They gave chase together, and, up ahead, the alley emptied out into another street. A busier road that he could see just in the distance. Maybe about twenty, thirty feet away. Except…
The blood trail led to a dumpster. It didn’t head toward the street.
“We’ve got you, asshole!” Angus snarled as he paused near the dumpster. “Come out, with your hands up! Now!”
The man in the mask came out, and his hands were up, all right. Up, and holding what looked like a broken computer that he’d hauled from the dumpster. The attacker threw the old tech at Angus and then took off for the alley’s exit.
The computer drove into Angus’s shoulder. He cursed. Tried to get off a shot. Fired—
The bullet missed the fleeing target.
Snarling, Victor raced forward, still holding tightly to Melody.
“Victor, wait,” she began.
“Stop!” Angus roared.
The perp didn’t stop. He ran out of the alley and straight into the street, even as he looked back. Looked back, not forward.
So he didn’t see the van that rushed forward and slammed right into his body.
The thudding impact was loud. Bones snapped.
The guy in the black ski mask screamed, a terrified, pain-filled cry that echoed, as he went airborne for a timeless moment.
Then his body slammed onto the pavement. The scream stopped.
Shit. Victor let go of Melody. “Stay. Here.”
Her horrified eyes were on the scene. The twisted body of the perp. The blood. Blood that had seemed to go…everywhere.
“Dammit! Dammit!” Angus yanked out his phone. Victor could hear him calling for help.
Victor ran for the road. The attacker had landed about five feet from the van, his body was twisted. Legs broken. One arm outstretched. He still had on the ski mask.
“Move away from him!” Angus shouted. “He could have another weapon!”
Another weapon wasn’t gonna help the bastard. Victor didn’t think anything could help him. He grabbed for the ski mask and ripped it off the jerk’s head. The headlights from the van lit up the scene. So much blood. The ski mask was wet with it. But when he pulled it off the attacker’s head…
Too young.
Some young punk. Barely looked twenty-one. Shaggy, brown hair. A pathetic excuse for a beard. Just scruff. And…wide, scared eyes.
“H-help…”
The kid’s lips were busted. Bleeding. His entire body was busted and bleeding, and, hell, he was not gonna make it. You didn’t need to be a doctor to figure out that shit.
“I didn’t see him!” A door slammed. The driver’s side door of the van. “He just ran out! OhGod, OhGod…is he all right?”
No, he was not. The perp’s breath heaved in and out. And his body shuddered.
“Get the hell back, Victor!” Angus’s shout again.
“Is he all right?” A desperate cry from the driver.
Blood covered the kid’s chest. From the knife wound Victor had given him? Yeah, sure, but also from the stunning impact of the van’s front end slamming into him. The kid couldn’t breathe right. He was just wheezing. And the blood—everywhere.
Melody dropped to her knees beside the perp.
Angus cursed.
The driver staggered closer. “I didn’t see him! I swear, I didn’t! He just ran out! Didn’t stop…”
Victor put his hands on the biggest wound he saw. A gushing wound on the kid’s chest.
“Look at me,” Melody told the kid. “Look at me. Focus on me. You’re going to be okay, do you hear me?”
Ah, no, he was not. Blood immediately soaked Victor’s fingers.
Angus had called for help, he knew that.
Just how long would it take for that help to arrive?
They were so close to the police station.
It should be fast, right? And why the hell weren’t other cops already nearby?
Surely someone had heard the gunshots. “Tell the EMTs to fucking hurry!” Victor snarled to Angus because this kid could not die without giving him answers.
“Hurry!” Angus immediately blasted into his phone. “We’ve got a perp down. He’s…shit. Hurry.”
“Breathe,” Melody urged the kid. “You just have to breathe. We’re going to get you to a hospital.” Her hands were shaking as she tried to apply pressure to some of his wounds, too.
The kid’s eyes began to sag closed.
“It was an accident!” A yell from the driver. “He just ran out! You all saw that, right? He ran out!”
The kid’s body jerked. More blood pumped between Victor’s fingers.
Melody shuddered. “Don’t die. Don’t.”
Sweetheart, that ship is sailing. But maybe he could get answers first. Because he knew the attack near the station had been targeted.
The SOB had been waiting for him and Melody.
The kid’s eyes had almost closed completely.
No. “Dammit, look at me!” Victor snapped.
“Who are you? Why the hell did you attack her?”
The kid’s busted lips parted. Was he going to answer? Blood trickled from his forehead. From his nose.
“Don’t move him!” Angus loomed over them. “He could have spinal injuries.”
Could have? Uh, try definitely did have.
The kid’s body was twisted as hell, but the gushing blood was a current priority because Victor feared the perp was about to bleed out.
Far, far too much blood. But, no, he was trying not to move the kid.
Maybe they’d get a miracle. If the ambulance and the EMTs could just arrive, and they could get the kid to the hospital before—
His eyes closed.
“No!” A sob broke from Melody.
“Why her?” Victor demanded.
There were tattoos on the kid’s neck. Disappearing down to his chest.
Blood was everywhere. And the kid wasn’t speaking. Was barely breathing.
Or…
Not breathing at all. Time trickled past.
Other hands appeared. Some tried to push Victor away. Some grabbed for the kid. The kid who hadn’t spoken. The kid who’d tried to kill Melody right in front of him. That hadn’t been a robbery. The knife had flown straight for her, and if she hadn’t slipped on the icy ground…
Dammit, dammit! He’d sworn to keep her safe, and she’d almost been killed right in front of him.
“EMT! Coming through, coming through!”
Victor and Melody were hauled back even as others crowded around the injured perp. Victor didn’t know how long he’d been trying to stop that terrible blood flow. He rose to his feet. Stared at his hands.
So much blood.
“The perp never made it to the hospital.”
They were back in the station. Same damn interrogation room. Victor would have preferred never to see that room again. He also would have preferred for the kid to have survived. He wouldn’t get answers from a dead body.
Angus heaved out a breath. Lines of weariness bracketed his mouth. “Perp probably thought it would be an easy mugging. Saw the BMW. Planned his attack.”
“No.” Just that. Victor didn’t say more.
He stood beside Melody as she sat in the chair at the little table.
She hadn’t spoken much. Hell, she’d just watched a man die in front of her.
She’d nearly died. And, of course, all of those fun events had happened after the detective revealed that Victor had nearly killed a man at the tender age of sixteen.
Yeah, I’m guilty. Did the crime. Would do it all over again if I had to do it. Because the sonofabitch had deserved it.
Was he a vengeful bastard?
Only…always.
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Angus sighed. “Look, I knew that guy, okay? He was one of our frequent flyers at the station.” A rough exhale.
“Benny Turner. A twenty-year-old kid. His rap sheet stretched for days. Hell, Benny had been in trouble since he was thirteen. His mom died. His dad ran off. His grandparents kicked him out because they couldn’t control him.
He bounced around more foster homes than I can count. ”
Victor stiffened.
“Kid got involved with gangs. Then got hooked on drugs. The guy was always looking for a quick score. Pretty sure he was in holding earlier this week.” His voice thickened.
“Like I said, he was a frequent flyer here. Kid was in and out of this place all the time. Revolving damn door with him. Such a fucking wasted life.” Angus rolled back his shoulders.
“Why didn’t he just stop?” Melody’s soft voice.
Victor slanted a glance her way. She’d been far too quiet. He had the feeling she was holding onto her control by a thread. Seeing that accident—shit. Same thing happened to you, didn’t it, baby? No wonder she was so pale. So tense.
The van had plowed into Benny Turner. He’d gone flying, only to land, broken, near the vehicle.
Tear tracks had dried on Melody’s cheeks.
“He should have stopped,” Angus muttered, drawing Victor’s attention back. “The ME will perform a full exam. My money says the kid was sky high.”
“No.” Again, that was all Victor said.
Angus glared at him. “That really all you’ve got to say? Don’t you want to elaborate?”
He’d made arrangements for the limo to pick him up—him and Melody. He’d already changed clothes. His driver-slash-guard had brought in fresh clothing for him. The blood-stained items had been taken in as evidence.
He’d planned to keep guards on Melody. But they’d only been back in town for such a short time. He’d thought she was safe with him, that they wouldn’t need the guards until the next morning and yet…
I was fucking wrong. “Benny had a target.” Bounced around more foster homes than I can count.
Like that shit wasn’t too familiar. The cop might as well have been talking about Victor’s life.
“He slashed our tires so we couldn’t escape.
He waited for us to come out of the station.
” Which begged the question…how had Benny known they were there?
“And he didn’t attack me first, even though I was the bigger threat.
My back was turned while I was looking at the car.
He had the perfect opportunity to stab me in the back. ”
Melody sucked in a sharp breath.
“But he didn’t. He went after his goal.” He looked directly at Melody. “You, sweetheart.”
When the blade had sliced at her, he’d known that he was too far away. That he couldn’t get to the attacker in time. The blade had gone straight toward her.
Then she’d fallen.
Luckiest fucking fall of her life.
“He had a target.” Victor knew this with certainty. “Someone wanted him to take out Melody.”
Angus shuffled forward. “Uh, yeah, I get that it’s been a stressful night, but that’s one big-ass conclusion,” Angus told him.
“And like I told you during our marathon interrogation session, some asshole with a gun tried to shoot Melody at her father’s estate.
That’s two attempts now. Two.” He was not going for attack number three.
“The person who took Melody from me—that bastard knows she’s returned.
That person wants her eliminated.” He rolled back his shoulders.
“We need to find out if that kid happened to own a blue pickup truck.”
“Benny didn’t own shit.” A pause. Then, musing, “But he was a real pro when it came to boosting. And he always liked trucks.”
Could Benny have been the shooter at the Mage estate? If the kid had lived, they could have gotten so many answers.
If the kid had lived…shit, dead at twenty. So young.
“Dammit.” A long sigh from Angus. “Benny, why the hell didn’t you just stop?”
He hadn’t stopped, though, and now he was just a body in the morgue.