Page 182 of Trailer Trash

He’s delusional.

Insane.

High.

Who knows which.

I scream. “Help! Help me, Killian!”

He stops and turns around.

“River’s after me!” I jump to my feet. “He’s got a gun. He’s here! Save me this time! Save me!”

I stagger down the hallway, one arm clamped around my ribs. Every step burns through my healing incisions. My insides feel like they’re tearing. Still, I have no other way to stop him from slicing his throat. Maybe Jagger will use me as a distraction and steal the knife. I don’t know.

My hand reaches the cold doorknob.

Then—

Footsteps grow louder behind me. I stumble through the door. Police spotlights wash over me. Officers fill the yard, their weapons trained on the doorway. I stand frozen, surrounded.

“Drop the knife!” yells an officer.

I feel Killian behind me.

Just as I turn around, an officer shouts something.

An electric crack tears through the yard. Two wires streak toward Killian. His muscles lock, and he crashes onto his side.

They tasered him!

Officers rush in, grabbing his knife and restraining him. I stumble backward with my hand over my mouth, stunned.

“He’s cut!” I shout, as if everyone can’t see his mutilated face.

That’s all I can do, though.

“What are you doing!”

Someone pulls me away.

Jagger.

His hand is cut.

“I tried to take it from him,” he explains.

Clark and Christine appear, rushing to Jagger.

Christine lifts her chin toward Killian. Two officers place cuffs on him and help him stand. One officer presses the button on the radio.

“Bring rescue in,” an officer says into his radio. “He needs emergency medical treatment before transport.”

“Transport where?”

Christine’s voice cracks. “Once the hospital stabilizes him, he’ll be taken for an involuntary psychiatric examination.”

“This was all a trap! You planned this?” I say in horror, gesturing at the chaos around us. “He was tasered!”