The Preditorial Page

by Lee, Amanda M.

  “If you take one more step, I’m going to kill you.” My voice was level but deadly serious.

  “Another one of your lies?” Zack countered. “I think I’ll risk it.”

  “I was hoping you would say that.” I whipped my arm from behind me, pointing the gun Jake had pulled from his ankle holster and slapped into my hand minutes earlier0.

  Zack’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t slow his approach. I didn’t have a lot of time to think. I didn’t have a lot of options. I did the only thing I could do. I pulled the trigger. And then I pulled it again. And then? Yeah, I pulled it one more time just to make sure.

  What? It’s not like he didn’t have it coming.

  Thirty-Five

  “Holy crap!”

  “Avery.”

  “I shot him. Did you see I shot him? I can’t believe I shot him.”

  “Avery.”

  “Three times. Thrice? That’s thrice, right? I shot him thrice. Is he dead? I hope he’s dead. Wait, does that make me a sociopath? If it does, I don’t hope that he’s dead. Although, I really hope he’s dead.”

  “Avery.” Jake’s voice was practically non-existent now.

  I swung around, pressing my body to his side, thoughts of his well-being finally pushing to the forefront of my cluttered brain. “Jake. It’s going to be all right. I promise. I’m going to get you to the hospital.”

  “It’s too late, Avery,” Jake said.

  “Don’t say that,” I snapped, any adrenaline that had been coursing through my body only seconds before was now rushing out of me like an air mattress being used as a pin cushion. “You’re not dying.”

  “It’s okay,” Jake said, fighting to lift his hand and run it through my soaked hair. “It’s okay.” It was as though he was seeing me, but not really seeing me, if that makes any sense.

  “It’s not okay! You are not leaving me! Do you hear me? I won’t stand for it.”

  Amusement flitted in Jake’s eyes, followed closely by a spasm of pain. “I hate to disappoint you,” he said. “But I don’t think you can control this. You’re not omnipotent, after all.”

  Pain wracked my body. It wasn’t physical, though. This was the kind of pain I would never recover from, the kind that squeezed my heart like a vise, while simultaneously burning it with hot pokers. I wiped the tears from my eyes and stood up. “Nope. This is not happening. I’m taking you to the hospital right now and you’re going to be fine.”

  “I love you, Avery.”

  What? You’ve got to be kidding me. This was so not the time for that. I couldn’t have heard him correctly. He was clearly delirious. “What did you just say? Don’t you dare say your goodbyes.”

  Jake didn’t speak again, although his chest continued to heave, struggling for air..

  “Sonofabitch!” I screamed in rage.

  A vehicle had turned onto the street from the highway access point down the road, racing toward us. There were no colorful lights circulating, but I knew who it was. “Eliot is here. Jake, Eliot is here. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get you to the hospital.”

  Jake didn’t answer.

  Eliot brought his truck to a skidding stop feet from us and jumped out with both relief and anger in his eyes. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, because I’m going to kill you.”

  “Jake’s been shot,” I choked out.

  The fury that had been building inside Eliot dissipated. He pushed past me, kneeling beside Jake to feel for a pulse. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  I was standing next to Zack’s body, looking down at another empty life lost, beginning to feel disconnected from my surroundings. I didn’t really hear Eliot, though I knew he was talking. Eliot moved to my side and shook my arm. “Go down there,” he pointed, forcing my attention from Zack’s lifeless form to the bevy of police lights and accompanying siren screams now pouring into The Monitor’s parking lot. “Tell them to get an ambulance here right now.”

  I glanced at Eliot doubtfully. Jake was already dead. I knew it.

  “Do it now, Avery!” Eliot snapped, shaking me with both of his hands.

  I did as I was told, picking up my feet and pounding them onto the flooding street, yelling for the sheriff’s deputies as I ran. Derrick was the first deputy to reach me. “Where is Jake?”

  I tried to find the words, but they wouldn’t come.

  “Where is Jake, Avery?”

  I pointed to Jake’s car. Derrick to run toward Eliot and Jake.

  “Wait!”

  Derrick stopped and swung back around.

  “Jake’s been shot. He needs an ambulance.” The words sounded foreign.

  Worry washed across Derrick’s face but he quickly wiped it away. “Get me an EMT,” he roared into the radio microphone attached to his uniform epaulet. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  Derrick looked unsure for a second. “Come with me,” he said, holding out his hand. “Come on. Come with me.”

  He led me to Jake’s car, where Eliot had positioned himself in the backseat, working to staunch the flow of blood from Jake’s chest.

  “Is he alive?” Derrick asked.

  “Yeah, but barely,” Eliot said. “He was shot in the chest, but I don’t think it hit any major arteries. The bad news is that I think the bullet is still in there.”

  “The EMTs are on their way,” Derrick said. “They’ll be able to save him.” He sounded desperate to believe in something.

  I watched Derrick move over to Zack, using his shoe to lift Zack’s leg and letting it drop to the ground to make sure he was really dead.

  “How did he get the drop on Jake?” Eliot asked.

  “He shot him from behind,” I replied. “I was hiding in the sewage plant and Jake was out here yelling for me. He didn’t even see it coming.”

  Derrick looked grave. “Well, at least he managed to get his revenge on this piece of crap before he passed out,” he said.

  “He didn’t do that,” I said, my voice small.

  “Who did?” Derrick looked around for another person -- or another body -- to add to the mix.

  Eliot’s eyes met mine, worry lining his face. Since he was working at saving Jake’s life, he remained where he was.

  “I shot him,” I said.

  “What?” Derrick’s eyebrows nearly flew off his forehead. “What do you mean you shot him?”

  “He had us cornered,” I explained. “I managed to get Jake in the car but he was right behind me. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “You managed to get the drop on him?” Derrick looked impressed.

  “What? Um, no. First I bored him to the brink of death and then I told him he killed women because he wanted to have sex with his mother. And then, when he was really at his wits’ end, he charged at me and that’s when I shot him. I waited until he was so enraged that he couldn’t see straight.”

  Derrick stared at me, astonishment washing over his ashen features. Finally, he snapped back to attention as he spied something of interest over my right shoulder. “Over here.”

  I moved to the side as Derrick directed the EMTs to Jake. Eliot moved out of the way when ordered to do so. He didn’t go far, though. He was at my side, his arms around me, before I even registered that he was out of the car. I buried myself in his warmth, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Is she all right?” Derrick asked.

  “She’s in shock,” Eliot said. “I thought she was acting weird when I got here. I thought it was because Jake had been shot. I didn’t realize she killed this piece of crap.”

  “She’s going to have to be questioned,” Derrick said. “It should be open and shut, but she’ll still have to be questioned.”

  “I know. Does it have to be done tonight, though?”

  Derrick shook his head. “Take her to the hospital. Once she snaps out of it, she’s going to be obsessed with finding out how Jake is.”

  “I know,” Eliot replied, his tone grim
. “She’s going to be feeling a lot of guilt.”

  “That guy had it coming,” Derrick countered.

  “Of course he did,” Eliot said, smoothing a hand down the back of my head as I buried my face in his chest. “She still shot him. A couple of times from the looks of it. It’s going to have some effect on her. The dude isn’t some random Lego enemy.”

  Derrick bit the inside of his lip. “I guess.”

  “Just do me a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “Don’t call her mother. That’s a whole other level of drama we don’t need tonight.”

  “She’s going to be pissed when she finds out,” Derrick warned.

  “What else is new?”

  LOYALTY is a funny thing. Jake was in the hospital with no word on his progress for more than six hours before a doctor came out to address the group of people hoping for a positive update in the waiting room. Every sheriff’s deputy under Jake’s command -- the ones not working the scene at The Monitor, that is -- refused to leave until they were sure he had survived the night.

  I had felt the same way, so Eliot refused to leave my side. He was my rock. And, even though I drifted off from time to time, I found that Carly and Kyle had joined the party at some point and were bolstering me from the other side. My other rocks. Apparently personal attacks and Skyping could wait. For now, at least.

  It was a little before 5 a.m. when the surgeon entered the waiting room with news of Jake’s condition.

  “Barring any further complications, he should make a full recovery,” the doctor said.

  The waiting room erupted in applause while I dissolved into a puddle of relief, putting my full weight on Eliot as exhaustion claimed me completely.

  The doctor warned that only family could visit Jake over the next week. He then told the assembled sheriff’s department contingent to go back to their jobs and stop badgering the nursing staff for updates.

  Kyle and Carly said their goodbyes when things settled down. I let Eliot lead me outside and pile me into his truck without a word. Eliot turned toward his place in Mount Clemens, glancing over at me occasionally. “Go to sleep, baby.”

  “I’m not tired,” I lied.

  “Go to sleep anyway. I’ll figure out a way to get you in to see Jake later this afternoon -- but only if you get some sleep.”

  “Okay,” I yawned.

  “And then tomorrow, when you’re all caught up on sleep and reassured that Jake is going to be fine, we’re going to enroll you in an English class.”

  “What?” I asked, my eyes fighting to stay open. “Why would I need to take an English class?”

  “Because you and I have a very different definition for what ‘stay in the freaking apartment means,’” he replied.

  Crap. I knew I wasn’t going to get away with that one.

  Epilogue

  “So Jake is feeling better?”

  “He’s still in the hospital,” I said, grunting as I tried to follow the moves Lexie displayed in the front of her empty classroom. I had agreed to act as a guinea pig for her first informal teaching endeavor --and I was seriously regretting it.

  “How long is he going to be in the hospital?” Carly asked, easily following Lexie’s movements on the mat next to me. How is she so flexible, anyway? Sometimes life just isn’t fair.

  “Another week or so,” I said.

  “That quick? He’s only been in there for three days,” Carly replied.

  “He lost a lot of blood,” I said. “He actually got lucky with the placement of the bullet, though. It wasn’t near his heart and it only bruised his clavicle.”

  “Have you seen him?” Lexie asked.

  “Yeah, Eliot managed to get me in.”

  “Was he angry?” Lexie was well aware of Jake’s temper. She witnessed it a few times when we were growing up.

  “If he is, he’s not saying,” I said, my mind wandering to the final words he’d uttered before losing consciousness. I shook my head hard to shake the memory. “He just said he was glad I survived.”

  “And you’re not in trouble for shooting that guy, right?” Carly asked.

  “No. I was interviewed, but the cops say it was justifiable.”

  “Hell yeah it was justifiable,” Lexie griped. “The guy had a gun and a knife -- and he shot the sheriff.”

  “But he didn’t shoot the deputy,” Carly said.

  Lexie waited a beat. “That was horrible.”

  “I couldn’t resist,” Carly said.

  “So, what have you found out about this Zack Fortin?” Lexie asked.

  “Not much,” I admitted. “Just that he was a weird kid from a weird home. His parents moved from place to place when he was a teenager, probably because the father was a suspected rapist and the kid was suspected of killing animals in every neighborhood he lived in.”

  Carly raised her eyebrows in surprise. “How did you find that out?”

  “Marvin has been making calls,” I said. “I’m not really on the story these days.”

  “Does that surprise you?” Lexie asked.

  “No,” I shook my head. “Fish told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was now off the story -- mostly because I somehow managed to make myself a part of the story again.”

  “You do have a knack for that,” Carly agreed.

  “Marvin did find something interesting,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Zack Fortin’s mother went missing about eight years ago,” I said. “She was a blonde with blue eyes.”

  “Just like the victims,” Lexie said.

  “Just like you,” Carly added.

  “What do they think happened to her?” Lexie asked.

  “Obviously this Zack douche killed her,” Carly replied.

  “Then where is her body?”

  “They’re looking under his house,” I said.

  “His house here?”

  “Yeah. He had a whole dungeon in his basement,” I said. “It was soundproofed. He had a bunch of porn and stuff down there, and a medical table where he strapped his victims in.”

  “That’s creepy,” Carly said. “Good luck selling that place, especially in this market.”

  Leave it to Carly to find the meat in the story.

  “Do you think he was telling the truth?” Lexie asked. “About his mom molesting him?”

  “Maybe.” I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “I guess not.”

  The bell above the front door to Lexie’s shop dinged. We turned in time to see Eliot stride in. He took one look at the three of us and burst into laughter. “What are you three doing?”

  “Working out,” Lexie shot back.

  “It looks like you’re playing Twister without the mat.”

  “This happens to be a sophisticated exercise experience,” Lexie countered.

  Eliot rolled his eyes and strolled over to me, eyeing me critically. He reached his hand over and pushed my rear, causing me to topple over into a heap on the floor. “Hey!”

  “Why are you working out?”

  “Because I’m in terrible shape,” I replied.

  “Did that occur to you when you were running from a killer or trying to lift Jake’s dead weight into the car?” Eliot’s tone was light but his eyes were serious.

  “Both.”

  “Okay,” he said. “If you want to get in better shape, I’m not going to fight you on it.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Nope,” Eliot said. “I’ve got other things to fight with you about.”

  “Like what?” I had spent the better part of two days listening to Eliot berate me for leaving his apartment after promising not to. Since my actions led to Jake being shot, I had let him dress me down, figuring I deserved it. It was starting to get a little old, though.

  “Well, for starters,” Eliot said. “You just got a big delivery at my apartment.”

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot. Did you open it?” Please tell me he didn’t open it.

&
nbsp; “I did,” Eliot said. “No one needs that many pairs of shoes.”

  “I was bored,” I explained. “I just did a little online shopping before Marvin called for computer help.”

  “I’m going to have to get a whole new shoe rack for those things,” Eliot complained.

  “It will give you something to do,” I said. “You’re such a fiend for organization. I really did it for you. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

  Eliot fought the urge to smile but lost the battle. “Get your coat and I’ll buy you dinner. Heck, I’ll buy you all dinner.”

  “Good,” I said. “This working out stuff has me hungry.”

  Today wasn’t a day for serious thoughts, I decided. Jake was going to make a full recovery. He probably had no idea what he had said anyway. Extensive blood loss had rendered him temporarily out of his mind. Why dwell on it? The mature thing to do is forget it ever happened.

  Okay, maybe mature isn’t the right word. The smart thing to do is pretend it never happened -- and I’m nothing if not smart, no matter what everyone else in my life says.

  [Fluffer Nutter]

  Author’s Note

  I want to thank everyone who took the time to read my novel.

  If you liked the book, please take a few minutes and leave a review. An independent author does it all on their own, and the reviews are helpful. I understand that my characters aren’t for everyone, though. These are not bright and shiny people.

  Special thanks go out to Heidi Bitsoli and Phil VanHulle for correcting the (numerous) errors that creep into a work of fiction.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, p laces, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

  Books by Amanda M. Lee