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Chapter Twenty-Two
Quinn
Sighing, I wring my hands together and stare at myself in the mirror in front of me as I wait for Detective Rodriguez to come interview me. After Clay shot himself, I finally managed to get my hands free of the ropes. With Brooklyn in my arms, I had to crawl across the floor, careful to avoid Clay’s blood, to a damn near comatose Lucas and pull his phone out of his pocket to call the police. Once they arrived, Brooklyn and I were loaded into an ambulance and checked over by the paramedics. By the time they were done, Lucas was gone and we were carted to the station to give our statements. They let me call Alice so Brooklyn didn’t have to spend anymore time here, which is good since I’ve been waiting here for a couple hours, at least.
My heart aches as I remember the look on Lucas’s face while we waited for the police to show up and tears well up in my eyes. God, I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now and all I want to do is pull him into my arms.
The door to the room swings open and a haggard looking Detective Rodriguez walks in with several files in his hand. I quickly wipe away my tears and sit up straight as he sinks into the chair across from me.
“I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Dawson,” he says, setting a notepad down on the table in front of him as he places the files off to the side.
“It’s okay.”
He nods with a heavy sigh. “Before we go over what happened last night, let me just ask… are you okay?”
“Uh… I don’t even know what that word means at the moment,” I admit and he nods, rubbing his hand over his face before he flips open the notepad.
“Right. Well, can you go over what happened from the time Mr. Julette showed up at your house?”
“Sure,” I breathe, nodding. “I was sitting on the couch and Brooklyn was asleep in my arms when someone knocked on the door. I laid her in her playpen and answered the door. I didn’t even see him at first because as soon as the door was open, he shoved the gun in my face and pushed into the house.”
He nods, scribbling notes on the notepad. “And what time was this?”
“Around midnight.”
“What happened after Mr. Julette pushed his way inside your residence?”
I suck in a breath. “I could tell pretty quickly that he was highly impaired…”
“You mean drugs?” he asks, interrupting me, and I nod.
“Yes.”
Jotting down more notes, he nods. “Continue.”
“Since he was so high, I thought I might be able to get the upper hand. I didn’t want him anywhere near Brooklyn so I grabbed my sister’s backpack from the foyer and swung it at him.”
“Did it hit him?” he asks, glancing up at me in surprise. I nod.
“Yes. He yelled and stumbled back but he recovered faster than I expected him to and he charged me. He tackled me to the floor and hit me with the butt of the gun.”
He flips through the notebook, reading some other notes before meeting my gaze. “How did you end up in the kitchen?”
“When he hit me,” I mutter, wrapping my arms around myself as I relive the fear I felt in that moment, “I screamed and Brooklyn started to cry, which got his attention immediately. I didn’t want him anywhere near her and we fought some more but I somehow managed to break free and run into the living room. I grabbed her from the playpen before moving to the kitchen.”
“And he followed you?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“What happened there?”
“He cornered us behind the island and demanded that I give him the baby. When I refused, he lifted the gun and fired at me.”
He points to the bandage on my arm. “Is that how you got that?”
“Yeah, he just grazed me.”
“What happened after that?”
