She walked toward me, lips rising higher, as her eyes trailed over my frame from head to toe. Of course,she was measuring up the competition, wasn’t she?Well, she could have Ryan Cage then. I didn’t want any more liars or cheats. I had my fill of them. I cleared my throat, “Are you a friend of Ryan’s?”
Cameron tossed himself on the couch and began slamming his back up against the cushions, rumbling sounds under his breath.
“Ryan?” Her voice was high and raspy. “Is that the new guy you’re fucking?” She stepped closer and stood a few feet away from me, arms folded across her chest, watching me curiously. Disdain and pure hatred etched into every facet of her expression. Her face was much older than I first thought, closer to fifty I’d guess, covered carefully with layers of foundation and makeup, penciled on lip stain and eyebrows. She wore a pale gray, long-sleeved blouse, and dark slacks. She stood out as non-descriptive. Someone you’d pass on the sidewalk and not think twice about.
Cameron’s movements became swifter, his moans and grunts louder and faster.
Then it hit me, the smell of something burning.
I whirled to the direction of the hallway where billows of white smoke made it impossible to see past the bathroom. “Cameron, let’s go,” I said, waving my arms for him to come toward me.
“You’re not going anywhere,” the woman growled. I spun around to wisps of smoke and thinning air, circling around her, as she held her arms straight out at me and pointed the barrel of a gun in front of my face.
My hand immediately went for my firearm, but my hands came away empty. I didn’t have it on. I had nothing to defend Cameron or myself with.
“Who are you?” I asked, holding my hands up at my sides.
“You’ve been fucking my husband for months. Take a guess.”
A wave of horror and nausea rolled through the pit of my stomach with her words. Through the building smoke, I took in her face and trembling hands, and the horrible realization that she was pointing a Beretta Panther at me.
The same type of gun that was used in the murder of two of my cadets.
“You’re Captain Anderson’s wife,” I stated, my voice thick with relief.
This had nothing to do with Ryan, she didn’t have anything to do with Ryan.
I swallowed back the lump of emotion that was bubbling in my throat, because I really liked him. I really did. There was nothing to process, nothing. I wanted him to love me. I didn’t want to find out he was anything like Harris. That’s a great thing to figure out a few minutes before I was about to get killed.
She stepped to the side and began to circle around me. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to my family?” she asked, gesturing the gun at me as she spoke.
Cameron jumped up to his feet, screeching out inaudible sounds as he covered his ears. His body flailed at the sight of the smoke, and he was in full-blown, breakdown mode. “Cameron,” I tried to call his name as calmly as I could, waving him away. “Cameron, honey. Go out to the car.”
He started slapping his chest, pounding it over and over again. Behind him, thin ropes of fire chewed through the hallway runner, blackening and charring the wooden slats beneath. A smoky haze quickly thickened through the room and sparks of drifting ash swirled in flames in the air.
I looked at her in horror. “This has nothing to do with him. Let him out of here.” Paint bubbled and blackened along the walls. The room was getting hotter and hotter. My skin tingled, and my throat felt parched.
“Fuck you and what you want. Whore,” she laughed, bitterly.
“It’s been you following me and taking pictures?”Could I make her talk? Could I buy Cameron some time?
“Everyone needed to see what a whore you are,” she snapped, narrowing her eyes and indexing the front site of her gun on me.
Somebody taught this woman to shoot.
A flash of sparks shot out across the ceiling in the hallway as the light exploded, shooting glass and flames around us. Cameron screamed and crouched near the corner, thudding his head against the wall.
I don’t want him there. I don’t want him inside the apartment, but at least he was out of the path of bullets.
“Just put the gun down, and we can talk about this,” I said, knowing full well it was only a small amount of seconds before she was going to pull that trigger. The thought of those being my last moments made my heart explode fire through my chest and I struggled to breathe. “I never knew he was married,” I said, breathlessly.
A loud, sudden crash burst through the apartment as the ceiling in the hallway came collapsing to the floor. Smoke instantly filled up the living room, blinding me. I scrambled for the kitchen. My arms were out straight, feeling for the table and for my purse—where I had my off-duty firearm. The wood of the table was warping, and the frame of the door turned into giant pillars of flame that spread across the kitchen curtains in a rippling sheet of fire.
Gasping for breath, I crawled along the floor back inside toward the corner. I could still hear Cameron screaming. I needed to get him outside. I needed to get him somewhere safe. “Cameron?” I coughed and wheezed through the haze. I yanked at his shirt and pulled it up over his mouth. “Keep this over your mouth and come with me.” In the middle of the room, something dripped and hissed into a puddle of melted liquid, and the walls around us creaked and groaned. The blaze engulfed us.
His eyes widened at me, yet I didn’t know if he was registering what was really happening or how to deal with it. It didn’t matter. I didn’t have time to think it all out. I needed to get him to the door. He wrapped his arms over his head and continued screaming as I pulled him along the wall.
The dark shadow of another person flashed in front of us, the floorboards moaned and screamed out. Then, an earsplitting explosion slammed me backward, my ears instantly muted and ringing. There was a split-second before I registered it as a gunshot and felt the burning rip of agony as I buckled to my knees unable to control my body or the pain that had sliced right through me.
