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Me.
“Do not move.”
“He captured my friend,” I say, my voice shaky. “He tried to kill her.”
“She’s lying,” Gerard groans. “Her friend is insane, they all are. They thought I killed Alyssa, and so they dragged me out here to try to beat it out of me – they tried to tie me up and light my barn on fire with me inside. I managed to get away by shooting one of them in the hand, but then they caught up to me. Please help. Help me.”
Oh my god.
This clever, evil fuck.
He is going to try to get away with it.
The worst part is he just might. What proof do we have? No diary mentions his name. No photo has his face on it. There is absolutely no proof he did anything. Ciara on the other hand, she was seen with Alyssa, she has been on the cop's radar, and she is a suspect. This man is a fucking evil genius, and he knew we’d come out here to get Ciara.
He just hoped she’d burn to death before we got to her.
In the end, he still wanted her dead, he just wanted to bring everyone down with her.
“He’s lying,” I say, shaking my head. “He’s...”
An officer steps toward me. “You are under arrest for attempted murder, anything you say or do will be used against you in the court of law.”
What is happening.
The officer speaking steps toward me, his dark eyes narrowed as he pulls out his cuffs. Under arrest. I can’t be under arrest. There is no way this is actually happening. Is this some kind of joke? A prank? Spinning me around, the officer cuffs me before turning me and dragging me towards the police car.
No.
“I didn’t do anything,” I squirm, desperate for him to hear me. “He’s lying. He set all of this up. I swear. I only shot him because he was running away. Please, listen to me.”
“Shut up, and get in.”
He shoves me into the back of the car, before slamming the door.
My eyes meet Gerard’s, and he offers a small smile.
Sick son-of-a-bitch.
23 – Ciara
“What’s going on?” I croak as the police officers stand by my bed, waiting for the moment I woke up.
I was rushed into the hospital and treated for smoke inhalation, not to mention the damage to my hand. Spike was seen too, but he’s okay and has been with me since I first woke up, even though I vaguely remember it. This is the first time I’ve been able to open my eyes and actually make sense of my surroundings enough to have a conversation.
“We are here to question you about the abduction of Gerard Tate.”
Is this some kind of joke?
I rub my eyes, trying to get my mind to focus.
Everything seems blurred, including my brain function.
I look to my left, where Spike is standing, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s got a look on his face that is so intense, I know that whatever I’m about to find out, isn’t good. I’m still trying to process them saying the abduction of Gerard. I don’t understand what they’re talking about.
Are they even allowed to be in here?
Maybe I should pretend to be asleep.
