Page 51 of Severed Rivalry
The scene before me is bleak. Rosie is on the floor, laying amidst the shattered vase of pink peonies. Water coats her back, and her eyes are vacant.
My daughter looks panicked, more so as her eyes lift above my shoulder as she screams. “No.”
16
not easily thwarted
Sariah
Turning, I see the cop, gun pointed at me at point blank range. “On your knees. Hands behind your head. You have the right to remain silent.”
“Renée, walk slowly and take my cell phone from my right coat pocket.” I hold the deputy’s gaze, fighting to calm my racing heart, and speak to Renée.
“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” The man’s eyes dart between me and my daughter. Assuming correctly that she’s the lesser threat, he holds the pistol steady on me as Renée creeps from my right.
“What are you arresting me for?” I ask the officer, on my knees in my kitchen, completely vulnerable. To my daughter I say, “Hang up my phone from 911 and find the contact labeled Liam Murphy.”
“Mom?” The panic in her voice is palpable. Her fear must match mine.
“Do it.”
“Eluding and resisting arrest,” the policeman says. “You have the right to an attorney?—”
Power trip much?
“Renée, tell him who you are and then ask him to come here to make sure Rosie is okay. Or to send Ayla here. You’re safe with them.”
“Mom!” she screams as the policeman moves between us, jostling her aside, to slap cold handcuffs tightly against my wrists, yanking me up at an odd angle. “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand these rights?”
The ambulance squeals to a stop in the driveway. The red whirling lights and the shadows in their rotating absence add to the macabre feeling inside my home and inside my chest.
“Do it, Née. Please. For me.”
Two EMTs rush in, knocking me over in their attempt to get to Rosie. “What do we know?”
My daughter looks panicked. Terror takes residence in my gut.
“She’s fifty-one. Former smoker. She’s allergic to latex.” My voice is rising as I’m tugged out of my house, leaving my panicked, vulnerable daughter with two men claiming to be medics and my unconscious mother. My heart and soul looks back at me, her round brown eyes streaming with tears as she lifts the phone to her face.
Cian
What in the ever-loving fuck? “I was just talking with her.”
“You heard me.” Liam’s voice comes through the phone via the mic in his motorcycle helmet. “I’m en route. Ayla needs to be on her way. Write this down.” He spits out the address I know by heart.
“I know the damn address, Li.” I fidget and want to scream.
“Ci, write it the fuck down.” He enunciates every word like he’s speaking to a child.
“Done.”
“Now give it to Ayla.”
I walk downstairs faster than my body is comfortable moving. My head thumps as blood pulses through my swollen face.
“Ayla,” I holler when I’m on the main floor.
Christian pops his head out of his office, on alert and ready to defend his wife. As if he needs to do that against me.
