Page 87

I walk toward the door with a bounce in my step and throw it open.

Ah, crap.

A familiar man stands in the hallway. It takes a second for me to place his face and another second to notice the silenced pistol pointing at me.

Detective Rhys. Anna’s partner.

He pulls the trigger.

It feels warm at first, but an icy shiver sets in and fires to my toes. I look down at the deep red blood soaking through my shirt. I touch it. It covers my trembling fingers.

“You are not an easy man to find, Mr. Murray,” he says.

I step back and place my hand on the wall as my knees fail me. He watches from the doorframe, amused at my attempt to remain standing.

I drop to my knees. Pain spreads through my already bruised ribs and knocks me down a little closer to the floor.

He walks in and kicks the door behind him, moving calmly toward me. “She hears about your little spat at the train station…” his eyes twitch, “and not thirty seconds later, she’s racing to your fucking side. I hoped I was wrong. She’s been obsessed with you since the moment she saw you.”

I cough, tasting blood on my tongue. “Really? Cool.”

He lashes out and punches me in the face, sending me down. My hands break my fall, but the pressure on my ribs makes my elbows give. The pain isn’t as bad as I expect it to be. Either that or half of me has already gone numb.

“On the bright side, she led me right to you. I thought she’d leave after a while, but…” He heaves in anger, unwilling to finish his thought. “Did she come for you? Huh? Did you like her sucking you off?”

I squint at him. “The fuck is your problem, man?”

“Eight months I’ve spent with her!” he shouts. “We were partners. I brought her coffee. I supported everything she did, fawned over every aspect of her being. I worshiped the ground she walked on… and she gives me nothing. Then, suddenly, you show up. One look at you and she’s drooling for cock. It’s fucking gross!”

I gawk at him. “You shot me because she put you in the fucking friend zone?”

“No, I shot you because life in prison wasn’t good enough for you,” he growls. “All the evidence was there. The case was open and fucking shut. You know, you’re really fucking stingy with that hot sauce. Took me weeks to hoard enough of that shit to frame your sorry fucking⁠—”

“You framed me?”

He kicks up, knocking me in the ribs. Blind spots take over my vision and I clench to keep from passing out.

He paces along the floor, glaring at me with dead, black eyes. “Just one spark,” he mutters. “One spark between the Quinns and the McGregors and me and Anna would have been buried in new cases. She and I…” He looks ahead, his eyes distant. “We’re partners. I needed her… and she needs a real man in her life.”

I wince. “That’s fucking creepy, man.”

He flexes his jaw. “It was supposed to be easy. Canon was easy. Kill a McGregor, frame the Quinns. Sit back and watch as they destroy themselves, but Martin Wells didn’t like that. He wouldn’t mind his own fucking business. Threatened to expose me and I…”

His wrist jerks up and he tightens the white-knuckle grip on his gun. Beads of sweat drip off his brow. He keeps pacing, unable to keep still. I try to slide away, but the pain is too much.

Fuck, I’m gonna die here.

I look down at the bullet wound. It’s as if I’m standing outside my own body, admiring the poor schmuck about to take his final, gasping breath. A cold chill flashes throughout my body. My fingers and toes turn numb. I try to sit up, but I slip right back down.

He turns away again and grumbles to himself. I try to feel for my phone in my pocket with the precious few seconds I have.

He scoffs and marches back over to slap my hand away. “She’ll forget about you.” He walks to the window and yanks it open before tossing my phone out. “I’ll make sure the only name she ever says again is mine.”

A jolt of adrenaline delays the shock taking over me. I’m not ready to die yet.

“Stay away from her,” I warn.

He turns to me with a dark squint in his eyes and a soft chuckle on his tongue. It rises to a snort as he looks at my now crimson shirt. “What are you gonna do? Huh? You have an hour left, at best. I mean, I could…” He points his gun at me. “I could put another one between your eyes, but that’d be too merciful for you. I want you to die in agonizing pain because then you might have some minute understanding of how I’ve felt for last eight months standing by her side, dreaming about her…”