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“I’m fine,” he says. I can’t help but put my hand against the glass wishing I was close enough to touch him but knowing he wants me to stay right where I am. He reaches out and places his hand over mine and I swear I can almost feel his warmth reach me through the glass.
“Violet?” I sob. His mouth turns into a straight line, and he looks like he’s searching for the right words. “No!” I shout, surehe’s going to tell me she’s dead. I feel dizzy and I’m pretty sure I’m swaying on my feet.
“Bianca,” he snaps at me, pulling me out of my spiral and getting my eyes to focus on him. “They’re going to take Violet to the hospital. Will you please call Gloria to come watch Oliver?” I nod emphatically at him. “I’m going to ride with her in the ambulance, alright? Once Gloria gets here, come meet me at the hospital. You should probably call her parents and your dad too.”
“Is she going to be okay?” I ask, truly afraid of the answer.
He closes his eyes for just a moment before opening them and staring deep into mine, making sure I’m paying attention to what he’s saying. “Right now, all I know is that she’s unconscious but she’s breathing.”
I just nod my head, trying to not let any tears fall. I have to be strong for Violet. “I’ll go call Gloria.” I turn to find where I dropped the phone, but Carson calls out for me to stop.
He reaches into his back pocket and holds up an ID for me to look at. I squint because it’s smudged with blood and he brings it closer to the window.
Tyler Crosson. I let out a gasp.
“Do you know who this is?”
“It’s the guy she dated a few times, but she dumped him. I don’t think she was really into him, and he was acting like a creep at my birthday party. Where did you get that? Is he in there?”
He looks over at the two ambulances pulling up and the cops that are coming in and out of the house. He looks like he’s contemplating what he should tell me, but he should know by now I’m going to get the information I want.
“He was attacking Violet when I went in there.” I forget to breathe for a second. I guess the second he showed me the ID I knew what had happened but it’s a whole other thing to have itconfirmed. It’s only then I remember the sound of the gunshots. “Is he…” I can’t even bring myself to ask the question. Carson looks pained but shakes his head. Tyler’s dead. Carson had to kill him. This is a fucking nightmare.
“Thank you. Thank you for saving, Violet.” He doesn’t say anything, just jerks his head in a nod to me then takes off towards the ambulances, shouting instructions at the EMTs on where they can find Violet inside.
I find the phone in the playroom where Oliver is oblivious to all the horror and chaos that’s going on next door. “Hey, kid.” I say with a slightly shaky voice. “Gloria is going to come watch you for a while. Your dad has to work, and I need to take care of some things, is that okay?”
“Do you think she’ll order me pizza?”
I’m not sure if I want to laugh or cry. “Yeah, I think she will.” I head into the kitchen and fill Gloria in on what’s happened. She’s on her way to get Oliver and she’s going to take him home with her since I don’t know how long Carson is going to be tied up with this. I take a deep breath and feel a single tear fall down my cheek which I quickly wipe away. I don’t have either of Violet’s parents’ numbers with me but I do have one memorized that I need to call. I steady my hands and dial the number to Dad’s cell.
Chapter Eighteen
Carson
The white of my knuckles is almost the same color as the porcelain sink I’ve got a death grip on. If I let my grip loosen I know my hands will start shaking. I look into the mirror and an extremely weary man looks back at me. This was not how I had intended my day to go.
I wash my hands in the tepid hospital bathroom water one more time, making sure I’ve gotten all the blood out from under my fingernails and any stray spots that may be on my arms. I do my best to avoid getting water on the blue scrub top the hospital gave me to wear since the shirt I came in with was covered in blood and is now in an evidence bag with the OPA, or Office of Police Accountability, along with my gun. It’s standard operating procedure after any officer involved shooting and I don’t expect there to be any issues. It was a good, clean shoot asfar as I’m concerned. I’ve handed over all the evidence I quickly collected at the scene to Rafe and he’s going to take over from here. He told me to go home and get some rest but I need to get my head on straight first.
Walking into Bianca’s house and seeing all the blood and destruction had my gut twisted in knots. Not because of the state the house was in or the danger lurking inside, but because Bianca could have been home, or more likely, knowing her, she could have rushed in there without thinking, in a panic to save her friend.
When I found the young man leaning over a beaten and unconscious Violet, I called out to him and identified myself as SPD. When he looked up at me his eyes were wild and I saw the large knife he had in his hands. I wanted to get him away from Violet as quickly as possible because from where I was standing, I couldn’t tell if she was alive or not. I told him to step away from her and that’s when he came running at me.
I did what I had been trained to do and took the shot, hitting him with one in the shoulder and one in the chest. It wasn’t the first time I’d killed someone on the job, working in the gang and narcotics unit in Los Angeles is a dangerous job, but it’s certainly not something I take lightly either.
My entire body feels exhausted as I drag my hand through my hair and over my face, trying to wake myself up as my adrenaline crashes. On the edge of the sink my phone lights up again and makes an annoying buzzing sound against the porcelain sink. I don’t even need to look at it to know it’s from Bianca.
She started messaging and calling me as soon as she made it to the hospital and they wouldn’t let her back to see Violet. Her father somehow talked his way inside and I’ve already spoken to him, telling him what I could about what happened. The man looked destroyed, like he’d aged ten years since the last time I’dseen him, and I can’t say I blame him. If it were Bianca instead of Violet in that hospital bed I would be just as wrecked, maybe worse. Though I didn’t share that information with him.
I’ve always been so careful. I never tried drugs, I don’t drink to excess, I avoid anything that could spin me out of my perfectly crafted control. I’ve never been addicted to anything in my life. Now, Bianca’s my addiction. The one thing I can’t shake.
The phone lights up again and I snatch it off the sink and shove it down into my pocket. I know I need to message her back. I just don’t know what to say. I pace the small space of the bathroom back and forth, trying to get my thoughts in order, my emotions under control.
I haven’t spoken to Bianca yet because my first instinct is to scream at her that she could have been hurt, that could have been her that I found lying on her bedroom floor, body beaten, and surrounded by blood, which is crazy because she’s literally done nothing wrong. She did exactly what she was supposed to do. She ran to me.
I’m almost certain if this had been the Bianca I met a few months back she would have run into that house without a second thought and gotten herself killed. I’d like to think all my browbeating her about being more careful can be credited for that.
Still, it feels like there’s a band around my chest and it’s slowly tightening, making it harder and harder to breath. This has made me realize one thing, I’m not just falling for Bianca Moreno, I’m undisputedly, full on cliched, head over heels in love with her.
