But Vander still has some life left in him. With one last push of strength, his arms grip her shoulders, shoving her back, and the bullet hits him in the shoulder. His name rips out of her throat, before she covers his body with hers.
“No, no, no!” Her screams are ones of pure devastation, her tears falling on his face as she tries to keep him awake.
Xavier looks on with an ashen face before he’s tackled to the ground by the FBI agents. Even as his face is pushed into the gravel, his hands cuffed behind his back, his eyes never leave the body of his son.
Paramedics rush to Adela and Vander, and when they try to approach, she screams at them. “No! Stay back!”
“Addie.” My hand grabs her shoulder, and she whips her head around, her eyes wild, “you have to let them do their jobs.”
But even I can tell that he was too far gone, and that bullet sealed his fate.
Vander is gone.
The fight leaves her, and the light extinguishes from her eyes as she stands, her shoulders slumped. I glance behind me at the guys, who are now being approached by the other paramedics. “You’re probably going to want to call a few more ambulances,” Hayden grimaces. “We’re thehealthyones.”
The workers exchange a look before getting on their radios, calling for more units.
“Ma’am?” I turn my head, seeing a woman in a paramedic uniform assessing Adela. “She seems to be unable to answer my questions. Do you know how far along she is?”
Addie’s stare is blank, her gaze trained on the asphalt at her feet.
Shit.
“Um…” I try to do the math in my head. If she was about thirty-four weeks along the night we left Bowen’s estate, that would make her… “Somewhere around thirty-seven weeks, I think.”
She nods. “We’re going to have to take her in. Do you know who her next of kin is?”
Realization hits. I forgot about Roland. “Fuck!” I shout, making her jump before wincing. “Yes, sorry. Let me call her dad.”
The call takes me two minutes. Apparently, they’ve been driving around near the base of the mountain and will be up shortly.
Suddenly, there’s a tap on my shoulder. “Excuse me, miss?” I turn, and see a man in a suit standing in front of me with a pad of paper and a pen. “Would you mind joining me over here for amoment?” He gestures to a spot under a streetlight a few parking spots away.
“Not at all, is there somethin’ I can help you with?” I ask in my sweetest voice, following him away from the ambulance.
“Yes, I’m Special Agent Norman Roderick. We’re taking statements from everyone who was here tonight,” I glance over his shoulder and see the news anchors and cameramen coming out of the building to catch the action, “would you mind telling me, in your own words, the events that transpired?”
“Umm…” Shit. I can’t exactly tell him the truth. That I’m an escaped patient coming back to take the place down—
“Roderick!” Another man’s voice calls out, drawing his attention.
“Munoz?” The suit looks at the other man with confusion. “What are you doing here? I thought—”
“This one is one of mine,” Munoz says confidently, nodding at me. “And the two alphas and beta that were outside when you got here.”
Roderick’s brows furrow in confusion, and so do mine. One of his?
“One of…?” Roderick trails off before his eyes widen in realization, and then he nods vigorously. “Right. Got it.” He turns back to me, bowing his head slightly. “Apologies, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”
“Oh, that’s alright,” I wave him off. “Thank you kindly for your understandin’.”
Roderick’s eyes catch on my hair before going behind me. I glance over my shoulder and wince when I realize he’s looking at the sign that reads, “Thornfield Asylum for the Criminally Insane.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you look like…” he trails off, shaking his head. “Um, nevermind. Have a good night, ma’am.”
According to Paige, Josephine Harding is supposedly dead, so hopefully I won’t have to worry about him making any connections.
Maybe it’s time to finally make the name change.
