“Are you sure?” Evan asked me from where he stood, his arms folded and more than a few smears of blood on his clothing. “The legal system doesn’t always mete out the punishment that fits the crime. Knowing this piece of shit, he’ll plead insanity…”
This caught my resolve for a moment, the possibility of Johnson actually being free to walk the streets again one day a possibility I couldn’t consider.
“If that happens,” I said softly, “we’ll track him down and make sure he never has a chance to touch another woman.”
Johnson snorted a pained sound. “It was pure fucking unlucky that you all caught me tonight.” His eyes lifted to Dylan and Beck, looking between them. “These two with their eidetic memories and knowledge of cars. They told me they tracked me through the police vehicle. I was supposed to be following Riley tonight as protection duty. But … the opportunity to grab her was too good to pass up.”
I smirked. “You got greedy, asshole, and now you’ll pay.”
He didn’t look that worried, and I hoped I was making the right decision. Sirens cut through the early morning stillness.
“Looks like Decker decided to send out the troops,” Dylan said.
Beck still hadn’t spoken, and I still couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Not when SWAT and armed police stormed in the room. Not when I gave my statement and the photographers took pictures of the room I was held in. Not when the greenhouse of Osiria flowers were found out near his torture house. And not even when some preliminary photos of my injuries were taken, the ones on my arms and throat mainly. The others they would get at the station.
“Johnson has had this place on lockdown for a long time,” Decker said, swaggering around like he’d single handedly solved a serial killer case. “We found the records of how long it belonged to his grandparents. They died in odd circumstances and left it to Johnson. It was the only thing he ever inherited after his family disowned him.”
He turned to the psycho in question, who had just finished having his rights read to him and was being led out to the police car, and asked, “You never really tried to hide this address … why?”
Johnson smiled, teeth bloody. “It’s my original killing grounds. Sentimental reasons.”
Beck finally spoke up, his voice graveled and deeper than I’d ever heard. “He’s lying. The Johnson I knew was not sloppy like this. Multiple times tonight he left a bread trail to him. Which leads me to only one conclusion. He wanted to be caught. This is his swan song. Go out with a bang taking down the biggest heiress in the world.”
Beck was looking at me, I knew it, and I swallowed the burning lump in my throat.
Johnson was still smiling but it was strained. “You got here just a little too soon, unfortunately,” he said. “The crumbs should have been picked up after I was done with our beautiful Riley. You overachieving fucks were always two steps ahead.”
Beck was killing him in his head. I could see that.
“We’ll make sure there is no fame for you, asshole,” Dylan said, his expression as deadly as Beck’s. “By the time we’re done, not a fucking person on this planet will know your name.”
Now that really upset Johnson, but he was already out the door, and we didn’t get to enjoy his unhappiness for long. At this point, my body started to shake.
“Miss Deboise,” a woman I didn’t know interrupted my breakdown. “Your ambulance is here.”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t need an ambulance. I wasn’t raped or sexually assaulted in any way you need to test. I just have some minor wounds that a Band-Aid will fix.” A large Band-Aid.
She opened her mouth to protest but didn’t get far before Beck and Dylan stepped in front of me, blocking me from her view. “She said no,” Beck rumbled.
For the first time since all of this happened, Beck was close to me, and as his scent washed over me, my legs crumpled. He must have been waiting for it, because he spun so fast, his arms around me as he lifted me gently into his arms.
A sob escaped before I could stop it, followed by another. Beck’s stormy eyes bored into mine as he leaned over and kissed me, just a brush of his lips.
“Butterfly,” he breathed, and my heart started to go all out of sync as my pulse and breath raced. “I thought I fucking lost you.”
Another sob. And another. The sobs kept ripping from me with force and agonizing emotion.
Beck turned and strode from the room, like he was shielding me from everyone and everything best he could.
“Tomorrow, Beck,” Decker called. “All of you need to be at the station tomorrow to give your statements.”
Beck didn’t bother to reply.
24
Dylan ended up driving us home because Beck refused to let me go. Or I refused to let him go. Either way, we were not separating for any fucking reason, and no one argued about it.
When we reached our apartments, we went straight up to mine, the five of us silent. Eddy screamed when we opened the door, her face red and tear-stained.
