AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Marcus went immobile, seeming to consider her proposal. After an endless moment, he replied, “I suppose enlightening one as perceptive as yourself could prove useful. I’m glad you are listening to me.”
Roseline suppressed a shudder at his delusions that she could ever condone his deranged crusade. Nevertheless, her priority was to ensure he continued talking.
“You crave understanding for your cause,” she pressed. “Why did you eliminate monsters like Garofalo and DeLuca in an online theater to awaken society’s conscience?” Roseline asked, hoping to keep the madman distracted. “That’s quite an elaborate production for one man…”
Marcus paused, pride creeping into his tone. “My technical prowess makes possible what the feeble system never could. I cultivated an audience starved for raw truth, for the realities so many hide from. They pay well to glimpse behind society’s sanitized veil.”
Roseline’s jaw tightened with disgust. “Your audiences are not crusaders for justice. They don’t want to be convinced. They’re complicit spectators enthralled by torture.”
Marcus shook his head. “You fail to comprehend the appeal of unfiltered violence delivered righteously upon the corrupt. But many understand its poetic justice. How can it impact them?”
Seeing her opening, Roseline waved a hand at the monitors behind him. “Well, then, I appreciate you allowing me the rare privilege of witnessing your theater of justice firsthand.”
Marcus went still, head cocked.
Roseline continued, “I imagine your devoted followers would have been quite disappointed to miss this exclusive live show you’ve so thoughtfully set up tonight. The reveal of your mission, of your story… of your face…”
There was a long beat of silence before Marcus snarled. “You lie. I provided no performance tonight. There was no stream!”
Roseline arched an eyebrow. “Are you certain? I confess I took a small liberty and activated your live stream protocol when I arrived. The audio and cameras, of course. We’ve been broadcasting for several minutes now. Catching every word you said. You in all your crazy glory.”
His sharp intake of breath encouraged her to keep going.
She gestured casually to the blank screens behind him. “I’m sure your fans are enthralled watching you expound so passionately about your crusade. I made sure to include the NOPD, too, in your little viewing.”
Marcus stiffened, then rushed over to examine the equipment, letting loose a string of enraged curses at seeing the streaming lights active. Exactly as Roseline intended, her ruse had thrown him off balance. She prayed the cavalry would arrive before this maniac realized her deception and retaliated.
“You worthless little bitch!” Marcus roared, whirling around. “I’ll make you pay for this stunt with pain unlike anything you’ve endured.” He stomped toward Roseline, shaking with fury.
Heart in her throat, Roseline braced herself. As the distance closed between them, her fingers tightened on the Taser concealed up her sleeve.
Just before Marcus reached her with his gun, Roseline ripped her hand free, Taser contacts sparking to life. She slammed the device against Marcus’s chest, sending 50,000 volts of electricity arcing through him.
He let out a scream of pain before crashing to the ground in a spasming heap.
Roseline kicked away his fallen gun. “Maybe that will jolt some humanity back into you,” Roseline hissed down at his twitching form. Without waiting for a response, she sprinted over to where Callan sat bound.
“Oh, God, Roseline,” Callan choked out as she removed his gag and dropped to her knees before him.
“I’ve got you now,” Roseline soothed, even as her fingers shook with adrenaline. She pulled out a pocketknife and began hurriedly sawing at the thick rope securing his wrists.
After agonizing seconds, the bindings split and tore free. Callan lurched forward out of the chair, crushing Roseline against his chest. She clung to him, overwhelmed with gratitude that the man she loved was still alive after the horrors he had endured.
Their reunion was short-lived, though. Heavy footsteps pounding down the stairs shattered the moment, signaling they weren’t safe yet. Roseline and Callan broke apart at the sound. There was no time now to savor the rightness of being in one another’s arms again after the forced separation.
Before Callan could argue further, the metal door burst open, and two hulking men wielding weapons charged in—Marcus’s henchmen coming to check on their boss.
Roseline dove toward Ricci, fumbling to free him, peering out as Callan took the chair he had been tied to as a defense.
The henchmen paused, assessing the situation. Deciding Callan was the biggest threat, one thug lunged for him, swinging a baseball bat. Callan managed to fend off a couple hits, but the third was a full-body blow, sending him to the concrete floor.
“No!” Roseline cried out as the second henchman moved in, kicking Callan while he was down. Every protective instinct roared to life within her at seeing Callan brutalized before her eyes. She rose from her hiding place, rushing to them to protect Callan.
The nearest one whirled toward her, scowling. “Grab the bitch!” he ordered his companion. The other man started her way, bat still clenched in his meaty fist.
With her focus on the looming attacker, Roseline didn’t notice the first thug pulling his own gun or Callan climbing to his feet until it was too late.
“Roseline, get down!” Callan yelled hoarsely. He hurled himself at her just as a deafening crack split the air. Roseline expected pain, but strangely felt none. For a dizzying moment, she thought she had been shot. But glancing down, she saw Callan’s once light blue shirt rapidly staining dark red.
