“Justin. Please, put the gun down and we will talk this out. No one needs to get hurt.” Rylie’s voice was even, and one that I’m sure he used in many a board meeting. He was trying to get us out of here, but I could see the crazed look in Justin’s eye. See the hatred for him on his face that said he wanted Rylie out of the way.
A cruel, sinister chuckle came from him as he said to Rylie, “Rylie Allen, the almighty. The untouchable.” His eyes flicked to me quickly, before going back to Rylie. “You have her wrapped around your little finger, don’t you?”
“More like I’m wrapped around hers.” Rylie said, lifting his head. “Please put the gun down, Justin.”
“No.” Justin took a step toward Rylie and shouted at him, spreading his arms wide, “You ruined me. You ruined my life. I needed that money from BMT to pay off my debts.”
“I don’t give a shit about your money problems, Justin. That isn’t Luci nor my problem. I’m only trying to protect Luci.”
“Justin, please stop.” I begged again, taking a step back.
“You ruined me!” Justin’s voice was eerily calm as he turned that gun toward me. “Now I’ll ruin you. If she won’t be mine, then neither of us can have her.”
I stared down the barrel of my own gun and I knew Justin would pull that trigger, so I looked to Rylie and mouthed, ‘I love you’ and waited for the gun to go off.
In the span of seconds, Rylie lunged forward just as a gunshot rang through the air, but I felt nothing. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Justin fall to the ground, and before I knew it, I was wrapped up in Rylie’s arms.
There was a flurry of motion happening around us as I stared at Justin, who turned his head toward me and smiled. There was a brief flicker of sadness in his eyes before he was staring into the unknown. His chest stopped moving, and then there was nothing.
Rylie turned to look back at him. “Shit.”
He pulled me into the bedroom and then up into his lap. He rocked me back and forth, saying, “It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything is okay.”
I turned and wrapped my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck, trembling and clinging to him. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist, and I muttered into his neck, “You okay? You’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. You okay?”
I nodded my head and held him tighter. The bedroom door shut behind me as an officer introduced himself and his partner. I didn’t hear their names. I was just replaying Justin dying before me.
“Mr. Allen, we need to speak to Ms. Baker. Can we do that, please?”
“Luci. They need to talk to you, and you at least turn around so they can hear you?”
“Rylie.”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Fists are going to be a little sore, but I’m okay.” I loosened my grip on him, and he helped me reposition myself on his lap.
“Can I speak to you alone, Ms. Baker?” The taller one said.
“No.” My voice was hard, and my grip on Rylie’s hand on my knee became firmer. I turned to look him over, and only saw a few scrapes and a cut on his temple, but I asked again, “You hurt?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart. Please talk to the police.” He kissed my temple and nodded to the officers standing in my bedroom.
“We need to get your statements.” The shorter one said.
“It was all on the 911 call.” Rylie said carefully. “Pull the recording.”
“That is true, however, we only have audio, and some of it was muffled. We need more details of what happened.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My ex broke into my house, thrashed it, somehow got my gun out of the safe, fought my fiance, and threatened to kill him in front of me, and then pointed the gun at me to kill me.” I said, and then a fog lifted from my head. My heart started to slow, and I looked at Rylie, tears streaming down my face. “He was going to kill you, Rye.”
“No, he was going to kill you.” He said, kissing me on the temple again. There was so much pain in his voice that when I looked at the cops again, I asked, “What more do you need? You know what happened after that. Someone else shot and killed him. It wasn’t Rylie or I. Who did that?”
“When we broke through the door, one of the other officers… diffused the situation.”
“If you think I’m sorry for that, think again.” I snapped. “I had a restraining order on Justin Devereaux for a reason. I bought the Springfield for my own personal protection because of Justin Devereaux. I don’t care if it makes me look bad, because I’m not sorry that piece of shit is dead.”
The officer blinked and nodded his head before saying, “Do you have somewhere you can stay tonight?”
