Page 148 of Finding Noah

I hoped I'd see her again. After she lived a long, good life … I hoped.

“You wanna find out?”

“No,” I admitted in a hoarse whisper as a single tear worked its way through my lashes.

“Then speak.”

“I-I don't—”

RING! RING! RING!

A strangled sound of terrified anticipation escaped my throat as my lungs deflated with a gasp at the sound of Benjamin's phone ringing from his pocket, its vibration passing through his leg and against mine.

His grip on the gun slipped.

RING! RING! RING!

I snapped my eyes open and watched as his nostrils flared, and I wondered what he was going to do.

RING! RING! RING!

He was hesitating. On answering, on shooting.

RING!

The phone stopped its shrill chime, and his resolve returned. He pressed the barrel of the gun against me, and I gritted my teeth as he leered closer until I could smell his rotten breath.

“Talk or—”

RING! RING! RING!

“Fuck!” he screamed as he climbed off the bed, giving me a moment to breathe.

Why am I disappointed?

He pulled his phone out, pointing the gun at my exposed groin. “You say a fuckin' word, and this gun goes off—you got it?”

I nodded erratically.

“Hey, Gerry,” he answered, thrusting the phone to his ear. “What's up?”

His face remained unfazed for one beat, two, before the color drained from his cheeks and his eyes widened.

“Wait, wait, wait … hold up. You said they found the car where?”

Car. What car?

His panicked stare landed on me. “N-no! I know nothin' about a missing cop! What—”

My lips fell open. My car. They'd found my car. Who had found it? From the look on his face, it was the authorities. But …

What does this mean?

What did it mean for me?

“I swear to fuckin' God, man! I'm not … shit, I'm not stupid!”

Oh, but he was.