Page 69 of Two/Face

“What the fuck?” I mutter.

Squinting my eyes, I pull the photo closer, trying to make out the image. Glancing around the room, I don’t spot a light. Moving back into the bedroom, I spread the photos across the floor. My gaze darts between the different images; all look to be taken at different times, and I spot Luca immediately. The same man from my dad’s funeral and the same man who Bhodi told me hurt his friend.

Why the fuck was my dad following him?

Bhodi never mentioned any of this.

The fear that he could be lying to me slithers over my body. Nervously chewing on my thumb, I scatter the photos wider on the carpet, hoping to see why dad was following him. The photos show Luca speaking with different men, shaking hands and then entering an apartment. I don’t recognize anyone, not what I would have any reason to.

“Shit.” My hand flies to my mouth when I finally spot the reason. “Oh god, no.”

Falling back onto my ass hard, I crawl backward before my back collides sharply with the wall. Frantically shaking my head, I feel my eyes fill with tears, blurring my vision along with the thick knot forming in my throat.

Unable to think clearly, I scramble to my feet, thundering to my bedroom. I grab my phone off the bedside table, my finger trembling as I try to unlock it. Hitting the call button, I hold the phone to my ear, my heartbeat storming through my ears, as the call eventually goes to voicemail.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

Scrolling to the next contact, I hit call as the ringing begins. I can feel myself willing James to answer my call. Hearing a knock at the door, I poke my head around the corner. With the phone still in my hand, it falls to my side as the persistent knocking continues.

I eye the door suspiciously. The sequence of knocking is strange, it’s almost frantic.

“Who’s there?” I call out.

Eyeing the phone in my hand, I hold it close to my ear again. Listening to the end of the voicemail, I go to speak but slam my hands over my ears as a loud bang goes off.

“OW!” I cry out.

My body falls onto the floor hard, throwing my left hand over my arm. I feel the warmth beneath my palm. Pulling it away, the blood pools in my hand. My eyes fly towards the door again, and more shots ring out. Frantically crawling towards the bathroom, push the door open. Leaning back against it I slam the lock shut.

I hold my breath as the front door is kicked open and bounces off the wall. I freeze, hearing footsteps through the main hall, and faint whispers merely a foot away from me.

“She’s in there.” One whispers.

They’re right outside the bathroom door. Gripping my nails onto the floor, I force my body away. Sliding away from the door and trying to hold in my cries of pain. Leaning against the wall, I let out a heavy breath. My eyes scan the room, but there’s nothing here to help me.

Spotting the blood pooling on the floor, my eyes widen. Gripping my hoodie, I pull it up. Spotting the blood pouring from my right hip, I feel the panic further settling in.

How did I not feel that?

The footsteps eventually move away. I try to play it out to see whether I could escape, but it’s unlikely. As my body slumps lower to the ground, I feel the waves of dizziness wash through me, my vision becoming blurry and jumpy.

My head falls back against the wall. I can feel it beginning to roll. Inhaling deeply, I clutch onto the bloody wound. Each breath feels like a knife being driven through me. My eyes become heavy, but the smell pulls me from my weak descent.

Smoke.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Bhodi?

Earlier that morning…

Stepping into the precinct, it’s chaos. Moving past officers and detectives, I eventually reach my desk before I hear my name being barked through the office. Turning to see captain Dean standing in the doorway, his face is focused and showing no emotion.

Stepping inside his office, I close the door behind me as he falls into his chair. The familiar figure sitting opposite him doesn’t turn, but I already know who it is. I feel my spine stiffen at his presence. I watch as he taps his fingers impatiently on the arm of the chair.

“What is it?” I finally ask.

“Harry is dead.” The captain shakes his head.

---