Page 66 of Last Breath

This is only going one way. After all, I’m a mess. I’m covered in death and destruction, and I know that everything has come to this moment. Taking it one step at a time, I stop at Salem’s body. Dropping to my knees, I kiss him on the lips.

They’re still warm.

“I’ll join you soon, my love.” Closing his widened eyes, I rise and step toward the open light of day.

I know that every step is the right one.

I know that every movement is correct.

And as the shot courses through my chest, I know this was the end that I should have had long ago.

Lying on the floor beside Salem, I reach out and grasp his hand.

I say with my last breath, “I’ve loved you forever.”

Chapter 37

Police Captain, John Steward

Only two more weeks until I retired. Two weeks and I wouldn’t have to call anymore parents, wives, or children.

Then today happened.

“We haven’t seen or heard from anyone in a while, sir.” Lieutenant Miranda Carl is hunkered down beside the car, looking at me. She’s new here on our force, but she’s smart as hell. We’re lucky to have her sniper abilities. I’d had her set up at the back of the hotel, covering the window there. Thankfully, they saw her muzzle shine and they popped back inside. I’d hoped that would be enough of a deterrent, but as the second man appeared at the front door, I was truly disappointed with the outcome.

“Thank you, Miranda.” Taking a sip of my now warm soda, I look toward the open door of the room where the suspects are. We’d cleared the hotel after the partial distress call from Marcus, and I garner no misconceptions that he’s alive.

Now that the city SWAT has arrived, I feel we’re secure enough to enter without further loss of life. “Let’s move forward.” Picking up my walkie, I give the orders.

Hiding behind bulletproof shields, they reach the room, and I watch as they enter and exit quickly. The two lead officers, Hondias and Satra, peek out around the open entry and shout out, “Clear!”

Approaching the room, I look at the carnage. The two young men that stepped toward the door are covered in blood, laid out on the floor hand in hand. Officer Hondias bends down and checks for vitals. “Neither are alive, sir.”

Looking them over, I’m disgusted. “They’re both just kids, no more than twenty-five.” What a fucking waste.

“Sir, over here,” Miranda calls out.

Looking over, I see what’s left of my longtime friend, Marcus Flynn. A gunshot to the head, his hands cuffed, and a wound in his leg. “I’ll make sure your family knows you were a hero.” It’s not a consolation, but it’s something.

Rising off the floor, brushing off the feeling of sadness, I look around the space. There are women’s clothing, but no woman. I look to the bathroom door, where a table has been butted up against it, holding it from being opened from the other side. Sarta and Miranda shift the table and open the door cautiously.

With their guns raised, they peek inside. Turning to me, Sarta’s face is that of shock and disbelief. “Sir, you need to see this.”

Fuck.

Now what?

Breathing out a heavy sigh, I walk over.

“Well, shit.” Who is she?

Rocking back and forth on a toilet seat, singing to herself, blood pooling around her on the floor, she’s a right mess. The mirror in the room is smashed, and in her hand she holds a shard. With both her arms sliced open, dripping heavily on the floor, I rush for a towel to staunch the flow.

“Someone call a medic!”

As soon as I touch her, she screams, “No! No, I don’t want your help! Go away. Go away. Leave me alone. Leave me like they did.” Pulling her arms close, even as I’m trying to slow her from hurting herself further, she wrestles against me.

“Let us help you,” I say, hoping she listens.

---