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“Maddox, where’s Roxy? She there with you? We have a big fucking problem.” My mouth opens and closes like a drowning fish trying to suck in a wisp of oxygen as recognition hits.
I pull the phone away, staring at the screen in abject horror as I hear his voice yelling Maddox’s name.
“Maddox! Maddox, did you fucking hear me. The cops are on their way.”
Putting it back to my ear, I finally manage to get a word out. Just one. “Mitch?”
“Oh shit,” he whispers before the phone is ripped from me, and I hear Maddox talking to… I can’t even. Oh my fucking god.
My knees buckle, and as I drop to the floor, my arm slides across the counter, knocking off my glass. I don’t hear it shattering or feel it as a piece flies up nicking my cheek. I don’t hear the shouting going on around me or the thump, thump of someone banging on the door. All I can hear is my heart as it splinters into a million pieces again.
“Rox! Rox, hey, you need to listen to me, baby.” Zak’s face swims in front of me, his hands gripping my shoulders. “It’s not what you think, Rox.” His hands move to my face as more voices, loud voices, come from down the hall. “Listen to me, we love you. And I need you to trust that. I need you to remember that. Please, Rox.”
Hands wrap tightly around my biceps, and I’m hauled to my feet as a man pulls Zak away from me. His hands slip from my face, and my arms are pulled behind my back as cold metal snaps around my wrists. Chaos erupts around me, and I see Maddox being held by two more men as he fights to get away.
A voice to my left finally snaps me out of my daze, and I turn to see Noah.
“Roxanne Whitmore, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Theo Rogers. You do not have to say anything…”
“Noah?” He doesn’t stop or falter as he continues to read me my rights. I hear my name as I’m led from the room.
“Roxanne!” It’s a cry of pain and rage and a sound like no other. I stumble as I hear a whoosh of air, and I turn to see Maddox being wrestled to the floor while Zak is being restrained over the kitchen table.
I’m shoved roughly in the back, forcing me to turn around, but I twist my head again as I’m marched outside. I can’t see what’s going on anymore, and as a car door is opened, a hand on my head pushes me down into the back seat.
At the station, Noah stands beside me like he doesn’t even know me as I’m booked in. And I feel sick.
So fucking sick.
The closing of the cell door is a like a bullet to my brain and obliterates everything I am.
