#angsty kiss
Text
Reunited in a downpour
OC Kiss Week Day 2: rain 🌧
Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition
Context for readers outside fandom: The portal referenced in the snippet sent Lex straight to a nightmare realm! It's not good!
Word Count: 732
Bonus Track:
To leave this place was to concede that he was lost to her forever. Six days ago Eilan’s lover fell into a rift in the sky and never came back.
She was told it had happened fast. A battle at a fort. A dragon. A collapsed wall. He, along with five others, fell into a portal to the fade. And that was it. That was all they knew. At first his advisers had kept the faith with her. He lived, they told each other, he must live. His advisers, leaders of this upstart Andrastian army, believed the Inquisitor must live because of divine providence. He was the Herald of Andraste, an avatar of their prophet’s will incarnate, and thus he could not die. To Eilan, he was Lex, her fate. If he died, what did that mean for her? There was no life without him, and yet she lived and so must he.
The advisers’ faith waned with each passing day. Eilan told herself that hers did not. Though it had become brittle, that much she could admit.
She sat at the edge of a wide, high-pitched tent. Her attention flitted between the portal that had taken Lex, still visible in the distance near the fort, and the soldiers who packed up the Inquisition’s military outpost. They had begun at dawn despite the deluge of rain. It had been raining for days, a portent the army’s mages misinterpreted as a sign of calamity. Eilan knew better. The rain was fat and heavy, like the rain of spring. To her it symbolized hope. The army’s mages had dismissed her interpretation as either the grief-desperate yearnings of a girl, or Dalish hogwash.
The soldiers slipped in the mud. Crates slid out of reach. Horses were stubborn. The men and women of the Inquisition had won the battle that swallowed their Inquisitor — her Lex, gods, he was so beautiful, so bright. Is, she reminded herself, he still is. But yes, the army had won at a cost too high. One in three soldiers had died. Those who survived would live forever with haunting wounds. But two in three survived. The odds were good, perhaps even applicable to those who fell in portals. She stared at it, unblinking, willing Lex’s return.
“Eilan.” Commander Cullen spoke her name with compassion as he stepped into her field of view. She looked past his shoulder. Yesterday he had told her to pack up the contents of the Inquisitor’s tent. She had not.
“The Inquisition must move on. We are all heart-broken by the loss of the Inquisitor, though I do not pretend any of us can begin to understand your grief.” His eyes were red and inflamed, evidence that he spoke true about his feelings on the matter. He was also correct that none could understand hers.
Something dark fell from the mouth of the portal. Then four more dark things. Eilan got up and pushed past Cullen, darting out into the cold rain. The mud was slick beneath her feet. She scrambled towards the fort.
“Eilan!” Cullen called after her.
“He’s here,” she cried back. Saying it aloud made her heart thump in her ears. She felt light-headed, reality slipped. Near the rift, lights flashed, a battle. Was it him and the others fighting through the demons that lurked near every rift? It had to be.
As she reached the entrance to the fort, Lex. He stepped out into the muddy field, already soaked through. A flash of recognition, then blubbering, sobbing cries, his and hers. They ran to each other. Her cheek slid against his. His hand gripped her back, his fingers dug in. She trembled, so did he. He smelled of sulfur and something astringent. She whimpered as she touched his face, saw him in blurry glimpses. A smear of blood on his forehead. Patches of soot on his skin. His armor broken at the shoulder. One arm held against his ribs in pain.
They kissed desperately between sobs, lips blue and teeth chattering. The water on her face was cold and hot in peels, a mix of rain and tears. She sobbed his name. Oh gods. He said he’s here, he’s here, it’s okay. His hand cradled her head against him. It shook and shook. They kissed again and again, could not stop crying, mewling and fumbling for each other, those poor and keening souls.
----
This is a moment I've not yet reached in my Lex/Eilan story. It was a treat to write it early!
Eilan is my OC and Lex belongs to @bluewren
Want to follow their story? Start here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52434187/chapters/132646609
#ockiss24#oc kiss week#oc x oc ship#oc elf#eilan lavellan#lexlan#dragon age inquistion#dragon age fanfiction#dragon age fic#fantasy romance#elf romance#kiss in the rain#angsty kiss#angst#angst with a happy ending#dalish elves#lex lavellan#Spotify
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This is a PSA for all the writers who exclusively write only fluff and angst:
we love you. we still read your fics. no we don't care if it doesn't have smut in it. it is still valid and it is beautiful. thank you for existing. have a good day.
#i've seen so many times that fluffs and angst go unappreciated because everyone read ONLY smut.#but NO. there are people who enjoy everything. that includes me. i live historic au.#i love first kisses hcs. i love dating hcs. i live the angsty break up fics#pasi.txt
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Oh, please, I must know now… Donnie during mating season??? :D I’m loving ur writings about this :)
alright you thirsty purple fans, it’s time!
sidenote: i am. so glad. that people are enjoying these. they’re a lot of fun to write!
double sidenote: i have added a link to my masterpost to all my bayverse mating season headcanons! you can also find them here
sooooo donnie. he's a freak in the sheets, you cannot change my mind. so especially strong spicy warning for this one 🌶️
Donnie is extremely matter of fact about mating season. The first time he brings it up with you, he’s more nervous about your answer than he is shy about explaining what it entails. (You couldn’t hear the words, but you did hear him muttering to himself before he came up to ask you. You suspect it was a pep talk.) He is very thorough when explaining mating season in general and how it affects him in particular. You are grateful and also a little turned on by the time he’s done.
Before you were in the picture, Donnie used to work himself until his system overloaded and he passed out during this time. Now he finds himself working a lot less, because he has you to focus on. He appreciates that you make him spend more time on leisure and don’t let him overwork himself. He also appreciates that you do let him work at least a little when the desire hits. Getting to cuddle with you is a surefire way to get him to rest when he needs it though. As long as you’re nearby, he’s happy to do whatever.
Donnie is a talker in general, but it gets ramped up to 100 when it’s his season. Unless his mouth is busy doing… other things… it’s basically a 24/7 stream of consciousness fest. Mostly it’s about you. How much he loves you, what in particular he loves about you, how exactly he wants to make love to you. His morning star, his starlight, his celestial beauty. Sometimes, though, he’ll interrupt himself to talk about something that just occurred to him about one of his projects. It never fails to pull a laugh out of you and make him rub the back of his neck in (adorable) embarrassment.
He enjoys physical affection and often seeks it out from you, and this holds true during his season. He won’t whine or get grumpy if you don’t want to be touching him all the time (*cough* like his brothers will *cough*), but he does prefer if you’re in contact with him somehow. He enjoys watching movies with your head on his lap and your hand in his. He especially likes it when you're on top of him.
Donnie is used to just taking care of himself whenever necessary, AND he is used to handling delicate things during his season. So there is a lot of gentle manhandling when the time comes. You can't do anything particularly engaging because he will come up and interrupt you whenever to have sex. IF you are wearing clothes at all (not often), you cannot wear underwear or pants, at most a skirt. That way he can just lift it up and enter you whenever the urge hits. He is especially fond of doing this when you're sitting on his lap while he's working (... "daddy's little cockwarmer").
Having you around does not mean that all of his toys go unused, oh no. He is very considerate, and would rather resort to them when you're getting rest. (He got your permission to stare at you while you slept and he used his toys. So considerate.) He also came up with some new toys that the two of you can use together. Having toys custom designed for your pleasure? Well. It really adds to the experience of mating season.
He likes to take his time and study you. He is always coming to you with a new experience he wants to try. He does get a lot of pleasure out of trying new things, but he mostly just wants to know how you'll react. He is intimately familiar with your body and how it reacts, and he wants to see if those reactions hold true when different stimuli are applied. His prodigious brain is always working. He particularly likes when something catches you off guard and a surprised gasp comes out of your mouth.
Donnie is not overtly possessive, even in his season. But there is always one hickey very carefully placed somewhere noticeable that you can't cover easily. He knows just how much force to use to leave an imprint of his hands without hurting you more than you enjoy. And if he catches someone looking at you? You will probably be walking a little funny the next day. When he ties you up (he enjoys tying you up. a lot.), he'll take a minute to sit back and observe you, pleasuring himself to thoughts of how you belong to him the same way he belongs to you.
When his season is over, his favorite thing to do is cuddle with you while the both of you sleep it off. He won't leave the bed, not even to work, until he deems you fully rested. (He will work in bed while you sleep on his plastron though.) His second favorite thing to do is bathe you. He takes his time to make sure every inch of you is clean and cared for. It's a lot like going to a spa, because Donnie did a lot of research into spas so that he could replicate that experience for you. And if you give him a little pampering in return? You'll get to hear him chirp and churr in complete satisfaction.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic
#bayverse donnie#bayverse donnie x reader#tmnt#talking tag#theory tag#mating season#*blows kiss to all the donnie fans out there*#couldn't be me#i definitely haven't spent the past three days thinking about his thighs. and his biceps. and his teeth. his tongue...#ANYWAY#special shoutout to yorshie's 'donnie's working music' playlist for making this a lot easier to write than it would have been otherwise lol#i really hope this was worth the wait i uh struggled a bit to focus on him and keep him in my head. the mikey brainrot is Really Strong#mr. fearless leader angsty boy is next that'll be fun
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bibically accurate shaunanat
#shaunanat#save me angsty shaunanat s3 fight and kiss scene#i love them#yellowjackets#shauna shipman#nat scatorccio#natalie scatorccio
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Happy Valentine’s Day to the ex lovers ✊🏼😔
Hopefully Seven kiss Nico soon cause ma girl is just mopping around everywhere.
Play @infamous-if
#im so excited for the rewrite and ch 3#also I need to know wtf is going on with seven and Lucy#i need them to just kiss already ngl sjjsjsjs but I’m loving the angsty slow burn djjdjdj#Nico rose#seven lawless#seven x Mc#Nico x seven#infamous if
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The Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton ♡
#bridgerton#don’t mind me just going to live here for the rest of my natural life#married kanthony looks so good I just can’t believe this#can we take a moment to appreciate how we’ve gone from angsty longing looks from across the room to KISSES in front of everyone#also they better get the major subplot of the season#shondaland do not play with me#if y’all can do it with the useless featheringtons you can do it with lord and lady bridgerton#kanthony#kate and anthony#anthony and kate#kate x anthony#anthony x kate#anthony bridgerton#kate sharma#the viscount who loved me#kathony#bridgerton season 3#viscountess bridgerton#viscount bridgerton#lord bridgerton#lady bridgerton#simone ashley#jonathan bailey
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just a little simple sketch for @enigma731
#starmora#gotg#gamora#peter quilll#star lord#post gotg vol3#like it's a messy one#but I like the way it feels#yet another Peter crying#I do make him cry a lot#don't I? lmao#I swear I will draw something less angsty next time#after I finish this other one I started last week lol#gotta draw some kisses me thinks#mine#sketchy#art
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A (slightly angsty) domestic zukka hc I’ve been thinking abt a lot: I think Zuko would have a sort of knee-jerk flinching reaction when anybody touches his scar (with katara he looks like he’s bracing himself and with mai his whole upper body is sort of being held in place by her) (which i definitely think mai did on purpose to make him feel more comfortable but anyways) I think Sokka would after the first time figure out Zuko flinches hard even when he sees it coming and he’s The Plan Guy so I think he would secretly experiment and find out Zuko doesn’t flinch when sokka drags his hand from a different part of him (like his hair) onto his face. So he just starts doing that and it takes Zuko a stupid long amount of time to realize “hey Sokka touches my face a lot and it doesn’t suck. I wonder why🤨” until one day he figures it out like Sokka you sneaky shit you were nice to me and I didn’t notice
Bc the whole “zuko lets Sokka touch his scar bc he trusts him and he’s super normal abt it” is nice but it doesn’t feel realistic? You can trust someone a whole lot and still have instinctive trauma reactions. I think it’s much sweeter if Sokka notices and figures out a way to make it better without being asked.
Oh….. I’m….. this is a nice one 👍🏼
#ARREGEHSJKASJDASHJDKHGSADJHGSJHGSDMGHASDMHGSAGHMDSAHMGDMHGSAMHGDSGHMADGHMDMHGASMHDAGHMSDJHGDSSJGHSEJHDDSEDSE#?????????#hey anon????#you didn’t think u could get away with this right????#like this isn’t absolutely devastating in the best way possible???? RIGHT#??????#I’m ROLLING AROUND CRYINF SCREAMING WAILING THROWING UP BANGING MY FISTS ON THE WALL???#THIS IS ACTUALLY THE MOST TENDER SWEET ANGSTY THING IVE EVER READDDDD HOW COULD#HOW COULD YOU#HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO MEEEEEEE#ANON IM PUNCHING YOU IN THE FACE AND KISSING U ON THE KNUCKLES#DASHIUDUKHSADKUHDAKHSUKHUAD#NEVER RECOVERINF BRB 👍🏼#(thank you for your contribution this is beautiful and I’m going to think about this for the rest of my life)#atla#zukka#zuko x sokka#asks#my asks
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Can you draw Pomni X Ragatha?
yes
#their potential to be an angsty sad gl is real#they’re friends who… kiss (sometimes)#jesterdoll#bottomblossom#pomni#ragatha#Ragatha x pomni#pomni x ragatha#tadc pomni#tadc ragatha#digital circus#digital circus pomni#digital circus ragatha#digital circus art#digital circus fanart#tadc art#tadc fanart#the amazing digital circus art#the amazing digital circus fanart#the amazing digital circus pomni#the amazing digital circus ragatha#the amazing digital circus#krasytoonz
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“Love Like Ghosts" // The Raven Cycle
When your true love is destined to die, is already dead, or will always be leaving. And other moments of ghostliness.
#finally this post that has been in the working for so long is up. Not perfect but its up#yes we have now escalated to full songs#a song about ghosts for which i have used no quotes about the canon ghosts#overall goal here was a section for each relationship#which made me realize blue has had a canonical thing with everyone but ronan lol#ignore the fact that i could only get good angsty pynch quotes from greywaren i was struggling to find what i wanted in trc#last part is intentional repetition of different versions of blue kiss me like we have the vision of the first hurt me baby and the actual#obviously huge bias here toward bluesey but thats bc. Well. its all for them <3#overall happy with this because i feel like it actually encapsulates song and vice versa in terms of the love and ghost metaphor#anyway bluesey car scene said absent presence#lordhuroncycle#perhaps my last lordhuroncycle unless they release new song or i get inspired lol#long post#web weaving
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First kiss..•♡♡•.
..•°♡°•..
It was a slow heat that moved across Angel as he leaned in, cheeks a brilliant hue of pink as the bartender's lips pressed softly into his. The two had been getting to know each other for several months now, and even though the porn star had wanted more from Husk for quite awhile now, his fear that things would turned sour (as the tended to do) had always stopped him from making the first move.
Plus, he cared far too much for Husk to blow it all on a night or two of passion - on nights that would inevitably lead to something toxic - poisonous.
After all, that's all Angel has known since he arrived in Hell. And if he was being honest, he couldn't even recall the last time he'd had something that wasn't that way. Afterlife or otherwise.
But this?
This was nice.
A soft sigh falling from his lips as Husk's warm tongue parted them - it was slow and languid. Husk's arms coming to wrap around him as the bartender pulled Angel a little closer. He felt safe - comfortable. No pain or fear to be had as his tongue danced warmly over his own.
A sting of tears collecting in the corners of the spider demon's eyes - tears of happiness, hope - threatening to break free at any moment just like the emotions that currently filled Angel's heart. Long fingers wrapping into tufts of soft fur as Angel pulled them both closer still, reveling in the slow movements of the kiss.
And while the heat of it all was slowly stoked, Angel knew right then and there that he'd be completely content just kissing the bartender for the remainder of the night. Just having him there - close - with the beating of Husk's heart against his chest and the slight twinge of whiskey on his breath.
He also knew that Husk would go as slow as he needed - Angel knew inherently deep down that the ex-overlord would never break his trust.
And that-
Well, that was worth more than any night of passion. Than any amount of orgasms screamed into the night.
So, there the two remained. With their legs softly interlocked and arms wrapped safely around one another. Enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies while completely lost in nothing but the pure bliss of a first kiss.
..•°♡°•..
#hazbin hotel#hazbin angel dust#hazbin hotel angel dust#angel dust#angel dust hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin husk#husk#huskerdust#angel dust x husk#angel x husk#hazbin hotel fanfiction#huskerdust fanfiction#little angsty but#🥺🥺🥺🥺#angel deserves all the soft kisses#hazbin fandom#my fanfiction#my wriring
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Redraw of my very first piece of Miguel and of A Fortunate Mistake :)
#my art#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara#atsv#miguel o hara fanart#a fortunate mistake#the fact that it has been months is insane#I still love this angsty man#I would give him a million for head kisses#also if feels like I haven’t posted in a while but it’s only been 6 days 😅#I finally took vacations days from work so hopefully I can work on a lot of my WIPs#those now include merman Miguel 👁👁#I read a book called whispers of the deep and lemme tell you I wanna design Miguel like arges#he is so fine#you can bet I’m already drawing merman smut 🤭#love y’all
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I truly do love where Bells Hells' relationship with the gods is going, because in what has so far been a very atheistic party we're now experiencing some wildly different journeys with divinity. FCG is over here living his best life, like "I am all in on the Changebringer!" right as Laudna, Orym, and Ash return with all their trauma and complicated experience with how harmful the gods can be, so now Deanna is speedwalking in the opposite direction like "what do you mean :) you have issues with the Dawnfather :)) wait :) what do you mean militaristic churches :)) can i :))) have a fucking minute :)))" and then she hopped onto a quick zoom call with the sun itself, heard all she needed to hear, called him a bitch, and left. queen shit. anyways this is a Deanna stan post, my girl do what you've gotta do I'll support you the entire way
#cannot stress how much a love her#aabria is just *chef's kiss* unmatched#I cannot boil down how much i love her into simple words but she literally has everything#powers of the gods#an angsty backstory#majority of the only braincells in any group she's in#an ex husband#a werewolf fuckbuddy#a gay best friend#a medical degree#and an etsy shop#unmatched <333#bells hells#critical role#cr3#cr spoilers#deanna#deanna leimert#aabria iyengar#andis thought geyser
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I think Wyll is prettier than Astarion. There I said it. Astarion is more interesting certainly but mainly because Wyll is easier to look at. I just kick my legs and giggle whenever he's on screen. Mesmerized by him. Cannot tear my eyes away type shit.
#i desperately want to romance him but he's hard to find an angle on for an appropriately angsty romance that i enjoy#cuz he's so nice and well-adjusted it's like u deserve better than whatever creature i make for u king<3#wyll keep trying tho he simply must be smooched asap#i think pally is my best bet tbh#like someone who's righteously angry at mizora#like feral abt how she's mistreating wyll#vengeance pally would be juicy i think but maybe barb could also work? hmmm#i did make a rogue drow just now who looks like the joker and i feel like that'd be a fun combo#i will keep thinking on it#baldur's gate 3#bg3#wyll ravengard#the problem with wyll is that he's not real and not my boyfriend#astarion type men are fun when they're fictional and you know you wouldn't touch them with a ten-foot-pole irl#but wyll?? i wanna kiss wyll. reader x wyll type shit. i think he can fix me<3
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ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ
ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ‘ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ ʀɪʟᴇʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.8 ᴋ
ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴ/ᴀ (ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ)
ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ ‘ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ ʀɪʟᴇʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ: (ᴀꜱᴋ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴅᴇᴅ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ)
@bl0w-m3
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇʟʏ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴ ᴜᴘᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ, ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ 141 ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ ꜱᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴘʟᴏʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ ᴀᴛ ʜɪꜱ ꜱɪᴅᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴᴛ ʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ.
“ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ!”
ʜɪꜱ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴇᴄʜᴏᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ��ᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴋʏ, ʜɪꜱ ᴛᴀʟʟ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ꜰᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀᴀᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴏʀᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʀʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴇꜱᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏɴᴇ.
“ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴇ.”
ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪʟᴅ ᴡʜɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋꜱ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛᴇᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴊᴜᴛᴛᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴇɴᴛʀᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴏᴄᴋ ᴄʟᴀᴅ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ ʜɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴘʟɪɴᴛᴇʀʏ ᴡᴏᴏᴅ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀ ᴛɪɢʜᴛɴᴇꜱꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ.
“ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ!”
ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀɪᴄᴋʟᴇ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇʟɪᴅꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪꜱᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜱɪʟʜᴏᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇ ꜱᴛᴏᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ɪɴ ɪᴛꜱ ᴛʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴜꜱᴇᴅ. ʜɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀ ᴊᴇʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴜᴘᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀʀɢᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋᴘᴀᴄᴋ ꜱᴛʀᴀᴘ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴘᴇᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏʀꜱᴏ.
ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ, ᴏɴʟʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴀᴅ ᴏʀ ᴜᴘꜱᴇᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ.
ᴇxᴘᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴀ ʟᴀʀɢᴇ ɢᴜꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀɪʀ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀʙʀɪᴄ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴀʟᴀᴄʟᴀᴠᴀ, ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴏᴏᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴀꜱ ɪꜰ ꜰʀᴏᴢᴇɴ ɪɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴀʟʟ ᴡᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴀɢ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɪᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ.
ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱʟɪᴘ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʀʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇᴇɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ. ʜᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴏɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ. ʜᴇ’ᴅ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟʟʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋᴇᴅ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ʜᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪɴ ᴊᴇᴏᴘᴀʀᴅʏ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ.
“ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ.”
ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜʟᴇꜱꜱ, ᴀ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍɪxᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴜꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ. ʜᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ.
ᴄʟᴜᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʀᴍꜱ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏʀꜱᴏ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜᴇʟᴛᴇʀ ɪᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟʟɪɴɢ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɪʀ, ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʟᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ꜱᴏʙꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀꜱᴛ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ. ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ꜱᴀʏɪɴɢ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴇʟꜰɪꜱʜ.
“ɢᴏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ.”
ʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴘᴏᴋᴇ.
ɴᴏ ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇ. ɴᴏ ʀᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ. ᴡᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ʜɪᴍ ɢᴏ? ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴅʀᴏᴠᴇ ᴏꜰꜰ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ’ᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.
“ɪ ᴡᴏɴ’ᴛ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ʙʟᴜɴᴛɴᴇꜱꜱ.
“ɴᴏᴛ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴘᴜʟʟᴇᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴀʟᴋɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀᴢ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ᴘʀɪᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜᴘ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ.
“ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʜᴀᴛ?”
ʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴜꜱᴄᴜʟᴀʀ ꜰʀᴀᴍᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. ʜɪꜱ ʟᴀʀɢᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋᴘᴀᴄᴋ ꜰᴇʟʟ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴀᴛ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴏꜱᴇɴᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴀᴘ.
ʜɪꜱ ʙᴀʟᴀᴄʟᴀᴠᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴋ ʜɪᴅ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴏʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ʙᴇᴀᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴏᴏɴʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜱʜᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʀᴇᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪɢʜʟɪɢʜᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴍ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ.
“ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜʏ?”
ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ꜰᴀʟᴛᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴅ ꜱᴏꜰᴛʟʏ, ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɢᴀᴢᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ʙʀɪᴇꜰ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴘᴜʟʟꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ᴠᴇꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴘᴀʟᴍꜱ.
“ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʜʏ?”
ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ? ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴅᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ, ꜱᴏ ᴡʜʏ ᴡᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ.
ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴡ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ, ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇꜱɪᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀɪʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜᴅᴅʏ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇᴡᴀʏ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀʟɪɴᴇ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ʀɪꜱᴇ.
“ᴡʜʏ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ?”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʜɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜɪʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴜᴘꜱᴇᴛ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛᴇᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜᴅᴅʏ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ ꜱᴏᴀᴋɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴏᴄᴋꜱ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪɢɴᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱQᴜɪꜱʜʏ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ.
“ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴄᴛᴀᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ?”
ᴀ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜱʜ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴘʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʀɪᴅɢᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴏꜱᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴜᴘꜱᴇᴛ ᴄᴜʀᴠᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴍᴏʀᴘʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀᴛɪᴘꜱ ᴘʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏʟᴅ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙɪᴄᴇᴘ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴘꜱ ᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ.
“ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏᴘᴘ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ꜱᴏᴀᴘ ɪꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ.”
ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴇɴꜱᴇ ɪᴛ, ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ᴄʟᴀᴍᴘᴇᴅ ᴛɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴘ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ᴠᴇᴛ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ʟᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ ʏᴏᴜ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇxᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏꜰᴛɴᴇꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴅɪꜱᴘʟᴀʏᴇᴅ, ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴘᴏᴏʟɪɴɢ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴇɴꜱᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀɴɢʀʏ.
“ꜱᴏᴀᴘ ɪꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴇʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ. ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɪᴏʀ.”
ᴀ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘ ꜱᴄᴏꜰꜰ ᴘᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛᴇᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ, ʏᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴜᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴀʙꜱᴏʀʙɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴏᴄᴋꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴏɢɢɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅɪʀᴛ.
“ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɪᴏʀ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴꜱ ꜱʜɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛʏ ɢʀᴏᴀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ꜱ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇᴡᴀʏ ɪɴ ʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅꜱ, ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛʀᴏᴜꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴛᴏᴡᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜰᴏʟᴅᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴀʀᴍꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜɪꜱ ʙʀᴏᴀᴅ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ. ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ʙʟᴜᴇꜱ ʙᴜʀɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇxɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴀꜱ ɪɴᴛᴇɴꜱᴇʟʏ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴜɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʀɪᴢᴏɴ, ᴄᴀᴜꜱɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴛᴄʜ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴜɴɢꜱ ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏ ꜰᴀᴜʟᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ.
“ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ.”
ʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡʟᴇᴅ.
“ɪɴꜱᴜʙᴏʀᴅɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪꜱ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱꜰᴇʀ, ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ.”
ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄʜ ꜰʟᴜᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʙᴜᴛᴛᴇʀꜰʟɪᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ꜱ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴɴᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ʜɪᴍ ʜᴇ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ꜱᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ.
ᴘᴇᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ʟᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜᴇꜱɪᴛᴀᴛᴇ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ꜱɴᴀᴘᴘɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇɴ’ᴛ ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ᴊᴇᴇᴘ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅ.
“ᴡʜʏ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ, ꜱɪ?”
ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ, ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ꜱᴛᴇᴘᴘᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏʀᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴘꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀꜱ ɢᴇɴᴛʟʏ ɢʟɪᴅᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴛᴛᴏɴ ꜰᴀʙʀɪᴄ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴀʟᴀᴄʟᴀᴠᴀ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀᴇᴇᴘ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛɪᴘᴛᴏᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇ ʟɪɴᴇ ʟᴇᴠᴇʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴀʟʟᴇʀ ᴍᴀʟᴇ.
ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴇɪʀᴅ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴡᴇᴇᴋꜱ, ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ. ʜᴇ’ᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ, ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ, ʜᴇ’ᴅ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴘᴀᴛʀᴏʟ ꜱᴄʜᴇᴅᴜʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʜɪꜱ ᴅɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴀ ʟɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴡʜʏ.
“ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ.”
ʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴀɴᴇᴅ. ᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ʜɪᴍ.
“ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ, ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ.”
ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ʙʟᴜʀ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇɴʏɪɴɢ ꜱᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ, ʏᴀɴᴋɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛʟʏ ᴛᴜʀɴɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʀʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ. ʜɪꜱ ꜱɪɴɢᴜʟᴀʀ ꜱᴛʀɪᴅᴇ ᴇQᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏꜰꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴘᴜʟʟᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍ.
ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ᴅɪꜱᴏʙᴇʏᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀꜱ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ɪɴꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴜɴɪꜱʜᴍᴇɴᴛ. ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴀɴᴅ, ʟᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴜᴛꜱɪᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀᴘᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴍᴇ.
ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱQᴜᴇʟᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀᴍᴘ ꜱᴏᴄᴋꜱ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ ᴀꜱ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʀʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ, ɪɢɴᴏʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀꜱꜱʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ɢᴀᴢ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏᴀᴘ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀʟʟᴡᴀʏ.
“ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴜᴛᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ꜰᴜᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴜᴘ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪᴄᴇ-ʟɪᴋᴇ ɢʀɪᴘ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡʀɪꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ɢʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ꜱᴋɪɴ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛᴄʜ.
ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘ ꜱʜᴏᴠᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇᴅʀᴏᴏᴍ ᴅᴏᴏʀ, ʜᴇ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴛʜʀᴇᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ꜱʟᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰʟɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴅ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ꜱᴇᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛᴏᴏᴅ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ. ꜱᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ ʙʏ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ.
“ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ꜱɴᴀᴘ. ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴄᴋꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ɢʀᴀꜱᴘꜱ ᴛɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇɴꜱᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴅɪꜱᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴꜱᴛᴀɴᴛʟʏ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴀ ʟᴏᴜᴅ ꜱᴄᴏꜰꜰ ᴇᴄʜᴏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴍᴘᴛɪɴᴇꜱꜱ.
“ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴇɴᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ, ʏ/ɴ? ꜰᴜᴄᴋ.”
ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ꜰʟᴀꜱʜᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴀ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴄᴀʟᴄᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɪʟʟᴇᴅ. ᴡᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ꜱᴏ ᴛᴏʀɴ ᴜᴘ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ?
“ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴜʟᴛ–”
“ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴᴅ ᴍᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴅɪᴇᴅ.”
ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ᴄʜɪᴍᴇꜱ ɪɴ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜ.
“ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴛᴏʀᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ Qᴜɪᴄᴋʟʏ. ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴜɴᴇᴀꜱʏ ʟᴇɢꜱ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛʀᴇᴛᴄʜ ᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ɪɴ ꜱᴇᴀʀᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ. ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ.
“ɪ’ᴍ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ, ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ʀɪꜱᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀʀɢᴏ ᴠᴇꜱᴛ, ᴛʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀᴛɪᴘꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜʀᴠɪᴠᴀʟ ɪᴛᴇᴍꜱ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰᴇᴅ ɪɴ ɪᴛꜱ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴘᴏᴄᴋᴇᴛꜱ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏᴏᴋ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴄᴋ.
“ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴅɪᴇᴅ.”
ʜᴇ ᴍᴜᴛᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀᴛɪᴘꜱ ᴄᴀᴜꜱɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜʟʟ ᴀᴡᴀʏ.
ʟᴏꜱꜱ ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ꜰᴏʀ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ. ʜᴇ’ᴅ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀʟʟ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ. ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛᴏᴍᴍʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴛʜ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴘʜᴇᴡ ᴊᴏꜱᴇᴘʜ. ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ, ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇꜱ ʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ.
“ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.”
ʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴘᴏᴋᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏᴜʀꜱ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʜɪꜱ ʟᴀʀɢᴇ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ᴄᴜʀʟᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀꜱ ʜɪꜱ ɢʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴜᴍʙ ᴛʀᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴘ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴘɪɴᴇ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴏɪꜱᴛᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴡᴀꜱʜᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ. ʜɪꜱ ɢᴏᴅ-ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜰʀᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴡᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ꜱʟɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʜɪᴍ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ.
“ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ʏᴏᴜ.”
ᴀ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ꜱᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴅ ʟᴀᴜɢʜ ꜰᴇʟʟ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ʙᴀʟʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ꜰɪꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʜɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ꜱʜᴀᴋɪɴɢ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.
“ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ, ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ. ᴡᴇ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʙʏ ꜰʀɪᴅᴀʏ.”
ꜱʟɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡꜱ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴀɴɪᴄᴜʀᴇᴅ ʙʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴋɴɪᴛ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ʜɪᴍ ꜱᴛɪʟʟ ꜰᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜ. ᴀ ꜱʜᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ɢᴜꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀɪʀ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇᴅ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ɢʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴘᴀʟᴍꜱ ʀᴀɴ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟᴀᴄʟᴀᴠᴀ ꜱʜɪꜰᴛɪɴɢ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ.
“ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ, ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴ.”
ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜱᴘᴏᴋᴇ, ʜɪꜱ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀʙʀɪᴄ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ ꜱʜɪᴇʟᴅᴇᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ɪᴛꜱ ʙᴀʀʀɪᴇʀ.
“ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴇɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ, ꜱɪ?”
ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ꜰᴀʟʟᴇɴ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴏᴡ ʟɪᴛ ʙᴇᴅʀᴏᴏᴍ ɪɴ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ꜱ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ.
ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴛ ɪɴ, ꜱᴡᴀʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀ ʟᴜᴍᴘ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ᴜɴᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅʟʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ. ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴘʀɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʜᴇ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴘᴀᴛʀᴏʟ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.
ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʜʀᴏᴀᴛ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ᴛɪɢʜᴛ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɪʀ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟᴜɴɢꜱ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪᴄᴋ ᴄʟᴏɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ɪᴍᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜᴇ. ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴘᴀɴᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴʜᴀʟᴇ ʀɪᴘᴘʟᴇᴅ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇʀ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴋᴇ ᴏɴ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ.
“ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀᴏᴀᴋᴇᴅ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢᴀᴢᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜʟʟ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪᴍ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ. ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴘᴇᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏʟᴇꜱ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇᴛɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ᴘᴀɪɴ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.
“ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ.”
“ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ!”
ʏᴏᴜ ꜱɴᴀᴘ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴏɴɢᴜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴠɪᴘᴇʀ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍꜱ ꜱʜᴏᴠᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ, ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛʀᴏᴜꜱ ʙᴜɪʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ꜰᴀʟᴛᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ɢʀɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴍꜱ ʟᴇɴɢᴛʜ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ʙᴇ ᴛɪɴʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴇᴜᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʟᴇᴀʀɴᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘᴀᴄᴋ ᴀ ᴘᴜɴᴄʜ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴘᴏʀᴛᴜɴɪᴛʏ.
“ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴀ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ, ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱʟɪᴘ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ꜱᴀʏɪɴɢ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ?”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴏꜰ ʜɪᴍ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ʙᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴛɪɴᴀꜱ. ʜᴏᴡ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴇ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴇʟꜰɪꜱʜ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ꜱʟɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏ ᴇᴀꜱɪᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ. ᴡᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ɢᴏɴᴇ, ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.
“ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ?”
ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴡʀᴀᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴛɪɢʜᴛ ɢʀɪᴘ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀ, ᴅᴇꜱᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜʟʟ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴏʟᴅ ꜱᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴀ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ.
“ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ꜰɪɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ, ꜱɪᴍᴏɴ. ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ, ɪᴛꜱ ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀᴠʏ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅꜱ. ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ʜɪꜱ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴛ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ. ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ꜱᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜰʟɪᴘ ᴀ ꜱᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ'ᴅ ꜱᴛᴀʏ.
“ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ?”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴇᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ꜱʜɪꜰᴛ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴀʟᴀᴄʟᴀᴠᴀ, ʜɪꜱ ᴊᴀᴡ ᴄʟᴇɴᴄʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴀɴɴᴏʏᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴘᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ɢʀᴇᴡ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇʀ. ʜɪꜱ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀꜱ ꜱʜɪꜰᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀᴀᴘ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴘᴜʟʟᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴇᴛɪᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴀᴍᴇ ᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴜʟᴋ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴇꜱᴛ.
ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅɴ’ᴛ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴘᴜʟʟᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇᴇᴛ ʜɪꜱ ɢᴀᴢᴇ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ʟɪꜰᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ꜱʟɪᴅᴇ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀʙʀɪᴄ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴊᴀᴡ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ꜰʟɪɴᴄʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴊᴇʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴏᴅʏ ᴡᴀꜱ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ. ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴋɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪᴛ.
“ɪ ᴡɪꜱʜ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ.”
ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ʙʏ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴜꜰꜰʟᴇᴅ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ, ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴄʀᴀɴɪɴɢ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ɴᴇꜱᴛʟᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴊᴀᴡʟɪɴᴇ.
“ɪ'ᴅ ʙᴇ ʟᴏɴɢ ɢᴏɴᴇ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏᴘᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ꜱᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴ ɪ ʟᴏ–”
ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴀʙʀᴜᴘᴛʟʏ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ʜɪꜱ ꜱʟɪᴘ ᴜᴘ, ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜱʟɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅ. ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴅʀᴏᴘ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴏᴍʙ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛʀɪᴘ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟʏ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ.
ꜱᴛᴏᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴀ ꜰᴇᴡ ꜰᴇᴇᴛ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴏʀ, ʜᴇ ᴇxʜᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴀ ꜱʜᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ. ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴀᴘᴘʜɪʀᴇ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ɢʟᴀᴢᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴜʀᴍᴏɪʟ. ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜꜰᴜʟ. ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ʜᴇ’ᴅ ʟᴀɪᴅ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ꜰɪᴇʟᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴇ ʙᴇ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇ?
“ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ…”
ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ ᴛʀᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ��ᴋ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅʏ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜꜱᴄᴜʟᴀʀ ᴍᴀʟᴇ, ʜɪꜱ ᴛᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ɢᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ɢɪɢᴀɴᴛɪᴄ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛᴏᴏᴅ ɪɴ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜɪᴍ ɪɴ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴛ-ꜱʜɪʀᴛ.
ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴇɴᴛɪʀᴇʟʏ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ. ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴏꜰ ᴋɴᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ʜɪᴍ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ. ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʜɪᴍ ꜱᴛᴀʏ.
ꜱᴡᴀʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇʀᴠᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄʟᴀᴡᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀɪʀᴡᴀʏ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴀᴛ ʜɪᴍ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜɪᴄᴋ ʟᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢʟɪᴍᴍᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴇxʜᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴋ, ʜɪꜱ ᴊᴀᴡ ᴄʟᴇɴᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴛɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴇᴇᴘʟʏ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴏᴜʟ.
“ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ?”
“ɴᴏ.”
ʜᴇ ꜱᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴅ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ Qᴜɪᴄᴋʟʏ. ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴅ ʟᴀᴜɢʜ ᴘᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ꜱᴄʀᴀᴘᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴋᴇᴅ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ, ʜɪꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ꜱʜᴀᴋɪɴɢ ɢᴇɴᴛʟʏ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ɢᴀᴢᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪᴛʜ Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴɪɴɢ ᴇʏᴇꜱ.
“ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ. ꜰᴜᴄᴋ, ɪ ᴅᴏɴᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.”
ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ ꜰᴏʀᴡᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ꜱʟɪᴅᴇꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴛᴛᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴀʟᴀᴄʟᴀᴠᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇɴᴛʟʏ ꜱᴛᴏᴋᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʜᴜᴍʙ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴅꜱ ᴀʟʟ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ꜰʟᴏᴏᴅᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀʟɪɴᴇ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴡᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀɪɴ.
ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ?
ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴡᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʟᴏɴᴇʟʏ ᴅɪꜱᴘᴏꜱɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴀʀᴍ'ꜱ ʟᴇɴɢᴛʜ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ʙʟᴜᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ᴘᴜʟʟᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ʜᴀᴅ ᴅᴇᴠᴇʟᴏᴘᴇᴅ, ꜱᴏ ʜᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢꜱ.
ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀʀᴍʟᴇꜱꜱ ꜰʟɪʀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʏ ᴋɪꜱꜱᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴇʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʜᴇ’ᴅ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ᴡᴏɴ ᴀɴ ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏꜰᴜʟʟʏ ᴡɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜰᴇᴛᴇʀɪᴀ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜰᴀꜱᴛ, ʟᴜɴᴄʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪɴɴᴇʀ. ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ.
ꜱᴛʀᴇᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛɪᴘᴛᴏᴇꜱ ɪɴ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴋᴇᴅ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴘᴏꜱꜱɪʙʟᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅʀᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʜᴜᴍʙ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴏᴘ ɪᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀʙʀɪᴄ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ꜱʜᴏᴏᴋ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴜʟʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʟᴀᴄʟᴀᴠᴀ ᴜᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴘꜱ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴛɪɢʜᴛ ʟɪɴᴇ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀꜱ ᴛᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ꜱᴏꜰᴛ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ. ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴍɪʟɪɴɢ.
“ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ꜰɪɢʜᴛ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏʙ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ꜱ ʟɪᴘꜱ ꜰᴀʟᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʜᴏᴋᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ.
“ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʟʟ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴜᴘ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴀʏ ɴᴏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴛᴇᴀʀ ᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋꜱ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴꜰɪɴᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀʟɪɴᴇ, ᴛʀɪᴄᴋʟɪɴɢ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴇɢɪɴ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀʏ, ɴᴏ ꜱɪɢɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴛᴏᴏᴅ, ɪɴ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴇᴜᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴛ ɴᴏ ʟᴇꜱꜱ, ꜱᴏʙʙɪɴɢ.
ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇʟɪᴅꜱ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴀᴛᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴍʙᴀʀʀᴀꜱꜱᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴇxᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ꜱ ɢʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅʀʏɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴀ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ꜱɪɢɴ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ.
“ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱɴ’ᴛ ɪᴛ, ꜱɪ. ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱɴ’ᴛ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ.”
“ʏ/ɴ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀʟʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴜᴘꜱᴇᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜱᴘᴏᴋᴇ.
“ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏ–”
ʜɪꜱ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ ʜɪᴛᴄʜᴇꜱ, ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴜᴍʙ ɢʀᴀᴢɪɴɢ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴅʀʏ. ʜᴇ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴅᴅꜱ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴛʏ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴏɴ ꜰʀɪᴅᴀʏ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ʜᴇʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴍ, ᴀʟʟ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ.
“ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪ ꜱᴀᴡ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪᴇʟᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɢᴀᴢ. ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ. ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴏᴏᴛ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴘɪᴇᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ʀᴏᴘᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟʟ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴜᴘ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ɪɴ ꜰʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜱᴇʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴀᴛʀᴏʟ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴅᴀʏꜱ.”
ᴀ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴜᴄᴋʟᴇ ᴠɪʙʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛʀᴏᴋᴇ ʜɪꜱ ᴛʜᴜᴍʙ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴘᴀɴꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋʙᴏɴᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍᴘ ꜱᴋɪɴ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ɢʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ᴅʀʏɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴘᴇ. ʜᴇ’ᴅ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴀꜱ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴀɪʟʏ, ɴᴏᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴅᴅʀᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴜᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ.
“ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜰɪᴠᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪɴᴄᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ. ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ꜱᴏᴀᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴀᴢ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏʀᴍᴇɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ. ᴋᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴀᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ꜰᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ ʜᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜ ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴅᴇᴘʟᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍ ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ.
“ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ꜱɪᴅᴇ, ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴋᴇᴇᴘꜱ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴀɴᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ.”
“ᴛʜᴇɴ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜ.”
ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴᴀᴜᴅɪʙʟᴇ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇᴀɴᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ɢʟᴏᴠᴇ, ɢᴇɴᴛʟʏ ʀᴜʙʙɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇʟɪᴅ��� ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʀɪʟʏ ᴅʀᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴅ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴘ ꜱɪɢʜ ᴇᴄʜᴏɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴏᴘᴇɴ.
“ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʀᴇ. ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟꜱᴇ ɪɴ ᴄʜᴀʀɢᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ.”
“ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʙᴜʟʟꜱʜɪᴛ!”
ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴄᴏꜰꜰ, ꜱᴛʀᴀɪɢʜᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴜꜰꜰɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘ ʙᴜʀꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀɪʀ. ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ᴅʀᴏᴘᴘɪɴɢ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ᴊᴀᴡʟɪɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ʙᴀʟᴀᴄʟᴀᴠᴀ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ʜᴜɢ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜɪɴ.
“ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅɪᴇꜱ, ʏ/ɴ.”
ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴇʀɴɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ. ʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴘᴜʟʟ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪꜰ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ. ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ʜᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀɴɢᴇʀ.
“ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɪᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ, ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ. ʜᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴍꜱ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ꜱᴀꜰᴇ, ɪᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜰ ᴡᴇ’ʀᴇ ʟᴜᴄᴋʏ ɪᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ.”
ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀ ᴏɴᴇ, ʜᴇ’ᴅ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡᴀʀɴᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʙʀɪᴇꜰɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴜɴᴅʀᴇᴅ ᴘᴇʀᴄᴇɴᴛ ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ, ᴛʀᴜᴛʜꜰᴜʟʟʏ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ ɴᴏɴᴇxɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴛ. ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛɪɴʏ ɢʟɪᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ʜᴏᴘᴇ, ᴏɴᴇ ʜɪɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀꜱᴇ ʜᴇ’ᴅ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʀʀᴀᴄᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴅᴀʏꜱ ᴜɴʜᴀʀᴍᴇᴅ, ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ’ᴛ ʜᴇ?
ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ꜰᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ’ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏᴜʀ. ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ʜɪᴍ ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛ. ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴇᴛ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢɪɴɢꜱ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋ.
ꜱʟɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ꜰᴀʙʀɪᴄ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ʜɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ, ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ’ꜱ ɢᴀᴢᴇ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀꜱᴋ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʟᴍꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴇᴍʙʟᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ, ᴜɴᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴏꜰ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ʏᴏᴜ ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛ.
“ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ.”
ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʜɪꜱᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ꜱᴄᴏᴏᴘᴇᴅ ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇʀ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟɪɴᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴄᴀꜱᴄᴀᴅᴇᴅ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴀᴄᴇ.
“ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ.”
ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴛᴡɪᴛᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ʜᴇ ꜰɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀ ꜱᴍɪʟᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴋɪꜱꜱ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪᴛ ʀɪɢʜᴛ?
ꜱʜᴏʀᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪꜱᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ɴᴏ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀ ʜᴇɪʀꜱ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴘᴜʟʟ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜱʜᴀʟʟᴏᴡ ɪɴʜᴀʟᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ɢʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴘᴀʟᴍ ꜱʟɪᴅᴇꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋ. ʜɪꜱ ᴍᴜꜱᴄᴜʟᴀʀ ꜱᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴀʀᴘʟʏ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ʜɪꜱ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ Qᴜɪᴄᴋᴇɴꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ʟɪᴘꜱ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ.
“ɪꜰ ɪ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ.”
ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴘᴀᴜꜱᴇ. ᴀ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ꜱᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀꜱᴋɪɴɢ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪᴘꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴋɪɴ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴀɪʟꜱ ʙᴜʀʀᴏᴡᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴄᴋ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪᴅɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴘʀᴏᴘᴇʀ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴊᴜꜱᴛɪꜰʏ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ.
“ɪꜰ ɪ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ…”
ʜᴇ ᴘᴀᴜꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏʀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ꜱᴘᴏᴋᴇ.
“ɪ’ʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀʟᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ.”
#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x female reader#ghost fanfiction#call of duty fanfiction#simon ghost riley fanfiction#modern warfare fanfiction#angsty fanfiction#kiss me#military men#my fanfiction#lostinyourtime#call of duty mw2#simon ghost riley angst#call of duty mw2 x reader#call of duty x reader#cod mw fanfiction#ghost mw2#cod angst
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he stabs it.
#i was going to draw some tooth rotty johnlock content but humans weren’t working for me and hell if i can draw them kissing so#i decided to strain a muscle and be a little more clever (angsty) with it:]#so happy valentine’s day!!#context (quote) is taken from TLD#and of course i’m going to make it cryptic implied johnlock#because when did bbc ever give their most selfless character credit for his ability to love#my art#the @ is my insta#johnlock#gen#if you just want to look at it and go ‘oh experiment on the mantle’#because sherlock probably would leave a heart in the living room if he’s putting thumbs in the crisper and eyes in the microwave#sherlock#bbc sherlock#sherlock bbc#sherlock holmes x john watson#sherlock holmes#john watson#fanart#fanartist#art#benedict cumberbatch#martin freeman#sherlock fanart
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