Page 81 of Deadly Force
I bite back the rest. My jaw’s locked too tight to risk words. Anything I say will just slow this down.
He walks back to his cruiser, pace unchanged. No urgency. No clue that time is bleeding out at his feet.
Fourteen minutes. Fifteen.
I check the rearview. He’s just sitting there underthe pale dome light. No typing, no radio chatter. Nothing.
It’s been too long for a basic stop.
My pulse cranks up. Training kicks in—pattern recognition, threat assessment.
A second cruiser pulls in behind him, lights flashing in perfect sync.
This isn’t routine. This is escalation. A second unit doesn’t show up over a California roll unless something tripped a flag.
I key my comms. “I’ve been delayed. Brooke’s on foot near the Women’s Plaza of Honor, heading toward the library. No car. Three blocks of open ground. Get eyes on her. Now.”
Reese comes back, tight. “Copy. I’m ten out, coming in from Speedway. You want me on foot once I’m close?”
“Affirmative. Park it and move fast.”
“Understood. I’ll spot her before she crosses Cherry.”
Good. He’ll beat me there.
The first officer finally emerges from his cruiser. Still slow, but now his hand doesn’t rest, it hovers. Ready.
The second officer stays in his vehicle. Engine running. Watching.
“Everything checks out,” the first one says. Tone professional. Eyes harder. “Try not to rush through intersections next time.”
The words are too smooth. Too final.
I nod once. Flat as concrete. Take back my ID and papers. My hands don’t shake, but I can feel the pressure building under the surface.
“Have a good afternoon, sir.”
As soon as I clear the turn, I hit the gas. Not reckless. Not stupid. Just fast enough to erase the delay.
Controlled acceleration. Measured speed. Nothing they can cite me for.
Eighteen minutes now.
The cruisers vanish behind me. But the damage is done.
Twenty minutes since her text.
Too long. Way too long.
I press harder on the gas, praying as I drive.
Please let her be safe. Please don’t let me be too late.
Brooke
I'm halfway to the library when my phone buzzes again. Unknown Number.
Sorry. I think he was following me. Come to the third floor, Humanities. Room 3C.
