“On his way to the hospital. Savage went along for the ride, just to keep him safe.”
More like make him talk, I think.
Officer Martin shifts his stance to face me more fully again. “Why were you meeting with your ex tonight?”
The “ex” comment is back again. I don’t like it. “I wasn’t here to meet Logan. I was here to see my parents.” Which leads me to a realization. I turn to Blake. “My parents.”
“Are fine,” he states. “They’re at home and safe. And no, I don’t know if they sent Logan here tonight. Call them. We need the whole story. We don’t have it without their side of this.”
“I’ll call them,” Officer Martin interjects. “Tell me what happened in that bathroom.”
“He wanted me to drop the Waters case and get back together with him,” I state simply. “He said I’d be protecting him and me, as well as my family. I refused. That refusal set him off. And do you know why I refused his demands, Officer Martin?”
His eyes narrow but I don’t give him time to reply before I add, “Because I’m the one Waters can’t scare off. I’m the one who will make him rot in hell. Feel free to write that down and circulate it for review.”
His eyes burn into mine and when we might have a confrontation, his cellphone rings. His lips purse and he cuts his stare, answering the call with a formal greeting of, “Officer Martin,” before listening to whoever is on the other line for a few seconds. He eyes me, making it clear that the conversation is about me before he replies to his caller with, “Understood.” He disconnects, his eyes on me. “Are you going to press charges?”
“I’m not in a state of mind to make that decision right now.”
He surprises me by asking, “And you say you shot your ex in the foot?”
Since I’ve already stated this, this feels like a trick question. “Yes,” I say, offering nothing more that can be used against me later.
“Interesting,” he states.
Blake interjects. “What does that mean exactly?”
Officer Martin replies with his attention on me. “Your ex says he accidentally shot himself in the foot.” He doesn’t give me time to respond. “Tell me again where Adrian Mack is?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “And I hope it stays that way right up until the day he shows up in court and testifies against Waters.” And because I want to be certain he knows that I know who, and what, he is, I add, “Anyone could be dirty, working for Waters, and waiting for a moment to kill Adrian,” I pause for effect and add, “Even you.”
Blake steps between me and Officer Martin.
Obviously, he’d sensed the explosion about to happen and he’s trying to defuse it and me, but I’m not easily defused right about now. I thought I’d escaped a world where everyone bent the law to help the criminals when I’d left my father’s world. Now it seems that I cannot escape. Waters’ control is everywhere.
Adam steps to my side, catching my elbow and turning me to face him. “There’s buzz on the dark web about Waters’ hitlist, with an extra premium on you and Adrian. We need you out of here and on a plane.”
I try not to process the implications of the hitlist. I mean, it’s not like I don’t already know how much Waters wants us all dead. But there is a dark edge to Adam I’ve never experienced with him, an ominous feeling to this moment that rocks me to my core. “Is Adrian okay?” I ask.
A black sedan pulls up just outside the line of police cars. “Let’s go now,” Adam murmurs, and he literally captures my arm and leads me toward the vehicle. Remarkably no one stops us, which I assume has something to with Blake.
Once we’ve reached the vehicle and Adam opens the door for me, some part of me prays Adrian is inside when I know that’s not possible. We’re too close to the police. I’m ushered inside and the door is shut behind me. Adrian’s not here and a man I don’t know is behind the wheel. Adam climbs in the front with him and we’re already speeding away.
It’s then that I realize Adam didn’t answer my question.
Is Adrian okay?
Chapter Seven
PRI
I’m on a hitlist.
Adrian isn’t here.
I’m escaping a crime scene without him, in a black sedan with some stranger behind the wheel and Adam in the passenger seat. I don’t know if that makes me a criminal or what at this point and I don’t even care. There is only one thing on my mind: Adrian. I lean forward in between the seats where the unknown driver and Adam share the front view.
They glance at each other, not at me, almost as if they’re anticipating my question about Adrian. So much so that the dread and avoidance between them are palpable and my heart lurches with the certainty. “Tell me,” I order. “Tell me what’s going on with Adrian.”