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Mick smile.
I saw it happen. I knew it was about to happen, and there wasn’t one damn thing I could do about it. Not if I wanted to live. Not if I wanted Channing to live.
Mick pulled his gun out from his holster, calmly aimed, and fired.
“No!” I yelled, but it didn’t matter.
The gun barked. Mick’s hand jumped with the reverberation of the gun, and I stared in horror as Andrew’s lifeless body dropped down to the ground.
One clean hole in the space where his nose had recently occupied.
The smell of gunpowder filled the air, and I watched the blood spread across the black tiled floor in fascinated horror.
My hands went to my hair, and I breathed in deep. This was going to kill Channing. Absolutely kill her.
“Piece of shit,” Mick growled, before turning back to me, gun still in hand.
“Want to know what this’ll play out as? A cop killing a madman who had two cops and a civilian held captive. Too bad the mad man killed the hostages before I could save y’all, right?” He provoked.
Then he leveled his gun into the air, took aim, and my eyes closed. Not wanting to see it coming.
“Don’t get up,” I heard Parker say from behind me just as a gunshot rent the air.
I stared, heart pounding wildly as Mick fell back to his back, clutching his chest.
“He’s got a vest on,” I managed to get out.
Mick started laughing. “Oh, Peter Parker Penn. This is rich. Does Bryce here know who you are?” Mick coughed.
Parker stripped him of his weapon, found the keys to my cuffs, and tossed them to me.
I quickly unlatched the cuffs, pocketed the keys, and withdrew my gun in one swift move, leveling it on Parker.
“What the fuck is he talking about?” I snapped.
Parker’s eyes went from me back to Mick who was laughing and groaning in one seemingly long expel of breath.
Parker got the cuffs on Mick’s side, rolled him over quickly, and cuffed his arms together behind his back.
Mick heaved. “He’s the one who slit your throat, Bryce. How perfect is this? It’s like a fucking family reunion!”
I blinked, unsure what to say.
Lowering the gun, I stared at Parker, finally realizing what it was about him.
I knew him a long, long time ago.
“That true?” I asked, raising my gun again.
Sterling came in with one arm under Cleo’s, supporting half his bodyweight.
Sterling sat him down, and took in the interaction between me and Parker.
He was torn. I could see he was torn. However, he chose me, coming to stand directly behind me.
“What’s going on?” Sterling asked.
“Parker’s the one who gave me this decorative necklace,” I explained to him, fingering my neck, and the scar that ringed it.
