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Chapter Twenty-Four
Cohen
Red. All I see is red. My mind is swimming in it, my hands are dripping with. He fights me, claws and reaches for my neck. But his strength is no match for the anger that has taken over. My body trembles with it. Rage pumps though me, like crimson lava. He hurt her. He put his hands on her. He has to be stopped. It all happens to fast, but time is now moving slow, like the taunting click of winding a clock.
Pain radiates on my hand and up my arm as my fist strikes Alan’s face over and over. Bones crunch, the sound makes my stomach roll, but I don’t stop. I make him pay for what he did, what he tried to do.
When he finally stops struggling beneath me, my arms fall to my sides as if they had lead weights tied to them. Blood mars my skin and pours from Alan’s nose. Drawing in a few ragged breaths, my blurry vision focuses on the man laying still beneath me. Heavy pounding echoes in my ears and I smell blood, I taste the rustiness in my mouth. What have I done?
Yelling pulls me from the red haze and my eyes find Scarlett sprawled out on the lobby floor, struggling to get to her feet. Her violet eyes are wide and her scream pierces my heart. For her. I did this for her. And I would do it again, to make sure she is safe.
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Scarlett
With a ding, the doors open to reveal a bloodied Alan lying on the ground motionless with Cohen straddling over him, his fists hanging limply at his sides, and his chin dropped down to his chest.
Screaming rings out and I realize the sound is coming from me, my throat feels raw and I climb to my feet, running towards the lift, before I’m grabbed around the waist and held back by the guard.
“Ma’am please stay back.” He warns, keeping me from running into Cohen’s arms.
Cohen’s face snaps up to mine as his hand shoots out and pulls the lever. His palm slides back down the wall with a squeak, leaving a trail of smeared blood.
The emergency buzzer echoes throughout the lobby as police come in and pull Cohen off of Alan's lifeless body. Everything happens so fast, it's a blur. Tears fill my eyes and burn as they fall, a never ending river of anguish.
I’m lowered to the ground and someone hugs my shoulders, “she’s in shock.”
“What the bloody hell is going on here?” An angry voice demands. Piers?
“I’m the one who called you, sir. There was a disturbance on the security feed earlier, that’s why I wasn’t in the lobby and missed her coming in, Mr. Nichols. I’m so sorry.”
“Scarlett? Scarlett, can you hear me? Are you all right?” Pier’s voice breaks through the haze and I realize he’s kneeling beside me.
“Where's Cohen?” I look past him to a now empty lift. Alan’s gone, Cohen’s gone. The doors are stuck open and a bloody handprint holds my attention.
My mind flashes with what could have happened in there, that blood could have been mine.
“Scarlett? Look at me.” He pleads, shaking my arms. “Who is Cohen?”
“Shhh. Calm down, you’ll frighten her.” Another voice says. A female voice. Willow?
Blinking, my eyes scan the lobby, desperate to see what’s happening.
Everything is now moving in slow motion and I can hear, but it’s fuzzy, like I’m trapped in the bottom of a well. The buzzing, the sirens, the shouts, the cries. It’s all a muddled mess in my mind. My senses are overloaded.
Near the doors, the police are dragging Cohen out. Cohen!
Standing, I push past everyone and rush towards them, where I’m held back as paramedics load Alan. The sidewalks are full of on lookers, gawking at the scene before them like an episode of Crime TV.
“We have a pulse.” They yell out instructions and the door slams shut as the vehicle speeds away, sirens wailing.
“Cohen!” I yell and he gives me a defeated look, as he puts his hands behind his back and shakes his head. “Cohen?”
Next thing I know, they are patting him down and putting him in handcuffs.
“We’re taking him in.” One officer informs another, before looking at me. “We need you to stay back. This man is dangerous.”
“I don't understand, he's not the one—” I argue.
