AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Probably most of them who work for this organisation.”
She ignored this slur and eyed-up Bob with caution. “I thought he was in prison. I wonder what he’s doing here. He must’ve been released.”
Joseph watched as the rogue journalist sauntered towards them. “Well,” Joseph said to Eleanor, “the way I remember it, News Scape dropped him like a hot potato – they washed their hands of him and abandoned him to the judge and jury. Maybe he’s back to tell Robertson what life in jail was like.”
As Bob drew closer, he suddenly noticed them and burst into life. “It’s corruption! They’re controlling the world – it’s a plot again our civil liberties!”
Joseph stood up and held out his hands. “Now, come on. You sound like a conspiracy nut.”
Bob delved manically into the inside pocket of his coat, and Joseph watched coolly, expecting him to pull out a secret document or something, but the atmosphere exploded with dread as Bob’s hand came out holding a semi-automatic military pistol.
Joseph’s palms twitched as he suppressed the desire to grab the weapon. The seconds dripped by like sticky tar as his brain tried to figure out what to do. Nothing existed now apart from his raw emotion, which merged in the air around him, stretching his essence wide across the room, hoping to prevent anything bad happening to the woman he loved.
Joseph unglued his feet and subtly positioned himself in front of her. He’d never realised it before, but – yes – he would take a bullet for her. Although hopefully he wouldn’t need to today.
Bob spoke in a measured voice. “Blair Robertson needs to be obliterated. I’ve come to fulfil my destiny.”
Joseph forced himself to remain cool, realising he’d need to placate this nutjob and grab that gun before anyone got hurt. He muttered to Eleanor, “What did you say his name was?”
“Bob Crowe,” she whispered, gripping the leather couch with tense fingers.
Joseph set his expression to tough-yet-sympathetic. “Come on, Bob, put the gun down. You don’t wanna hurt anyone.”
“Yes I do.” He glanced at Eleanor. “And I’m planning to do much more than hurt.”
Gripping the gun in both hands, he suddenly pointed it straight at Eleanor, who recoiled in terror. “No!” she screamed.
Joseph’s anger surged into his fists. No one was hurting her. He leaned towards Bob, driven by a primal desire to protect. “You wanna kill someone, motherfucker? Kill me – come on. Point it at me.”
Bob’s arms trembled as he continued to point the gun towards Eleanor. Joseph knew he was bluffing – there was no way he’d shoot her; he was a bundle of nerves. But Joseph couldn’t risk an accident.
“I said point the fucking gun at me!” Joseph shouted.
Bob suddenly swung his arms around and pointed it at Joseph.
“Joseph…” Eleanor whispered. “What the hell are you doing?”
Joseph’s mind focused single-pointedly on Bob, pinning him down with his glare and not allowing him to make one false move.
He held up his hands. “You know who I am, right, Bob?”
Bob nodded, quivering under his own crushing emotion. “Joseph Quinlan.”
“Right. And do you want to kill a rockstar today?”
He shook his head frantically. “No… no.”
“Alright, let me tell you something – you’re not killing anyone else but me. If I see you pull that trigger, I’ll put myself between the bullet and your target. Understand?”
Bob opened his mouth to reply, but Robertson’s office door was suddenly yanked open and the man himself strode out, followed by Matthew.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Robertson shouted. He recoiled as he noticed the intruder, but he quickly composed himself. “Bob, how the hell did you get up here?”
Bob pointed the gun at Robertson. “I’ve come to kill you, you bastard!”
“Nobody’s killing anybody,” Joseph said. “Point it at me, Bob. Remember what I said? You squeeze that trigger and I’m taking the bullet.”
Bob’s eyes were fixed on Robertson – as was the gun. “I’ve fantasised about killing you since you abandoned me to rot in prison!”
