I throw another punch at him. It’s like a floodgate has been opened, and I can’t stop myself. I want to hurt Liam for what he did to Izel.
Liam writhes on the ground, his face contorted in pain, and I’m finally snapped back to reality. What the hell am I doing? I can’t just beat a suspect senseless. It’s not how justice works, and I’m jeopardizing everything.
I take a shaky breath, forcing myself to back away. My legs feel heavy as I walk out of the room. I slam the door behind me, attempting to block out the mess I just made, but my chest is still tight. As I step into the hallway, I see Luna and Colton standing outside the observation room.
They are staring at me in disbelief. It’s like I’ve become a different person, someone they’ve never seen before. I turn to them and say, “This didn’t happen.” I’m making a last-ditch effort to salvage the situation, but it might be too late.
Chapter 7
IZEL
I’m sitting in the living room, twiddling my thumbs, doing absolutely nothing. I mean, seriously, nothing. It’s driving me insane, and Detective Lucas Brown is really starting to piss me off. He’s got me stuck in this place, and I’ve circled this house at least four goddamn times already.
Mr. FBI turned out to be a straight-up liar. He said he wouldn’t throw me in prison, but guess what? His house might as well be one.
So, Lucas and I are having a little chat. Well, he's talking, and I'm... listening—or at least pretending to. He’s going on about the case, asking a ton of questions, like I’ve got all the answers.
“So, Izel, how’s it going?” he asks, like he’s my best friend or something.
I roll my eyes so hard I’m surprised they don’t pop out. “It’s going,” I mutter, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint.
He leans in a bit closer, that annoying friendly tone still in play. “You know, we’re just trying to get to the bottom of things. Once we figure this out, you’ll be free to go.”
I snort. “Yeah, right. That’s what they all say.” But deep down, I’m seriously itching to be out of this house. I want to breathe in the real world, not this suffocating bubble.
He’s undeterred, though, and now he’s leaning in like he’s sharing some super-secret info. “You can help us solve this. You’re the key.”
I’m tempted to call him a manipulative fuck, but I hold my tongue. I know he’s right, but I’m not in the mood for it. I’ve got bigger concerns, like the fact that I can’t leave this godforsaken place. It’s not like I have much choice, though.
I turn my gaze toward the window, watching the world outside, so close yet unreachable. A slice of freedom taunting me from beyond the glass. I can almost taste it, but not quite.
Lucas keeps on talking, but it’s just a distant buzz in my ears. I’m too focused on planning my next escape attempt. I’ll play nice for now, but trust me, it won’t be long before I find my way out of this place.
My phone suddenly rings, and I scramble to pick it up. Lucas stares at the caller ID like he’s got x-ray vision, which pisses me off big time. I mean, talk about indecency, right? I frown at him and call him out on it, “Hey, Detective, you mind not eyeballing my phone like that?”
He raises an eyebrow like he’s all high and mighty, then mumbles, “Could be important. Maybe it’s from the killer.”
I snort so hard that I think I’ve snorted up half the universe. “Yeah, ‘cause a motherfucker planning to murder me would totally call me first. You’re a real detective, aren’t you?”
It’s hard not to notice how incompetent this guy is. That’s probably why he’s still stuck in homicide. But right now, I’m not in the mood for a pissing contest with him. I glance at the screen, and it’s my cousin. Ha, so much for the killer theory.
Lucas’s face turns an interesting shade of sour grape, and I can’t resist taunting him a bit. “Oh, look at that, Detective. Acall from my cousin. Guess that’s a little slice of my precious privacy.”
He grumbles something under his breath, clearly not thrilled that the killer isn’t calling me for a friendly chat. But right now, I couldn’t care less.
I stare at my phone for a moment before answering Martin’s call. He sounds worried as hell, and I can’t blame him. I haven’t been the most communicative lately, and I owe him an explanation.
“Hey, Martin,” I say, striving to sound as calm as possible.
“Izzie, where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you since last night.”
“Yeah, about that, I lost my phone. Found it this morning and put it to charge,” I sigh.
He lets out an exasperated chuckle. “Typical. Do you need me to come get you?”
I consider it for a moment. Martin’s a good guy, and I’d love to see a familiar face right now. But I know better than to put him in this mess.
“No, Martin. It’s not safe right now. The FBI is here, and they’ve got this place locked down. I don’t want them caging you too.”