“A video?” I repeated. My heart was beating so fast, it hurt.
He nodded. His vest had his name stitched on. Preston.
“Mm-hmm, it was right before my partner was killed in the line of duty. Well, it wasn’t really in the line of duty, but the sergeant thought it was. He was caught up in senseless gang violence, apparently, after hours. That was the official line, but not really what happened.”
I stared at him, unsure where he was going with this.
“It was at this place, up north. You’ve been there… it’s where the video was filmed.”
Yep, it was official. I was having a heart attack.
Cold sweat broke out on my face.
“Don’t worry. Only the investigating officers saw the footage,” he continued, like that was some kind of comfort. He seemed like he was waiting for me to confirm that I remembered what he was talking about.
“The place was called The Cove? Well, it was before the Harbor Hounds MC decided to burn it to the ground. My partner died that night.”
“I-I don’t understand what you’re saying, I mean, it has nothing to do with me,” I managed to get out.
The cop frowned at my panic, appearing concerned as I started to hyperventilate.
I felt like I was going to be sick. I swayed, and he caught me.
I stumbled back, trying to get away. Everything inside me was screaming to run away. I banged into another person passing by, spilling their takeout coffee.
“Hey!” the girl exclaimed.
“I’m sorry,” I panted, panic closing in. “I’m so sorry.”
The cop watched me with a worried expression as I turned and stumbled away.
I made it up Main Street to the bookstore I’d just come out of. I went in and staggered down a quiet aisle, going to the farthest corner I could find, before sinking to the floor. Like a puppet whose strings had been cut, I had no control over my limbs. I couldn’t control my breath; it rasped in and out of my chest. I couldn’t even see properly. Everything was hazy.
A video had survived the purge the MC had done of The Cove, the members’ club with dark, dark secrets, up near the Canadian border. The place where my life had changed. There was a video, and people had seen it.
It felt excruciating. Forget all my efforts to take back control. What did any of it matter, when someone could see that video?
What did anything matter?
I rolled myself into a ball, holding myself together through sheer force of will. I rocked back and forth and tried to breathe.
I had to breathe.
Breathe.
Brody
I wasin the office in town when I felt the effects of whatever the fuck Selena had put in my smoothie. I felt sick, a feeling I rarely felt. Then all hell had broken loose.
Hours later, I was finally starting to feel better, at home, mainlining mineral water and sleeping it off.
I showered and had just sat down to look at the reading I needed to do over the weekend, when Selena’s door slammed next to mine.
So, the poisoner was home. I had spent a lot of time over the last few hours to imagine terrible things befalling the little heathen and coming up with a plan.
I’d already put food for dinner in Selena’s room. And I’d attached the fitting for a padlock to the outside of her bedroom door, right at the bottom, which I’d been betting she didn’t notice, as it was pretty discreet. Now, I got up calmly and left my room, stopping outside her room.
“Selena, let’s talk.”
