29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

RICHARD

Gripping the steering wheel, I bark orders at the team.

“Get your asses to the old warehouse on Fifth Street.”

Hell, I hate this world, this job, and especially myself. Fuck, I can’t stand the thought that I let her go, but at the same time, I’m so in love with her that arresting her felt like slicing my own heart out.

I gave her a shot, a chance to run, to escape the cuffs. Tomorrow, though, I won’t be so generous. Tomorrow, I’ll arrest her, and fuck, I need to vent. I need to bang something, anything.

The car skids to a stop outside the warehouse. I slam the door shut, hard enough to rattle the frame. Colton, Noah, and Emily are already there with their guns drawn. I kick the door open, pouring my frustration out. Luna’s still tied to a chair, unconscious. In hushed tones, I instruct them to follow me.

“Keep your eyes open,” I mutter, leading them through the dark, dank warehouse.

Reaching Luna, I crouch down in front of her, my hands making quick work of the ropes binding her to the chair. I grab her wrists and rub them gently, stimulating blood flow back into her bruised wrists. Her skin is cold, too cold.

“Colton, get her to the hospital,” I instruct.

He lifts Luna gently and carries her out. I watch him go, and as the door swings shut behind them, I turn my attention back to the warehouse that Izel probably used for most of her operations. I should search the place for clues, but what good is it going to do me? Anything related to her is only going to make me miss her more.

Noah walks up next to me, his eyes scanning the room. He’s looking, but not really looking, like he’s lost in his own thoughts. Hell, that makes two of us. Nothing in my life makes sense anymore. Not since Izel.

“You’ve heard from Izel?” Noah asks.

I lie without missing a beat. “I’ve been trying to reach her for hours. No luck.”

Noah frowns, clearly not buying it. “Rick, you should look at the details of the case. There’s something…”

I brush him off, not wanting to deal with his questions. “I’ll get to it, Noah. Just...not now.”

Noah is about to press further when I hear a faint noise. It’s so subtle, I almost miss it. A soft, shuffling sound coming from the far corner of the warehouse.

“Did you hear that?” I whisper.

Noah nods, pulling his gun out. We move silently towards the source of the noise.

“Over there,” I gesture. We move towards the sound. As we get closer, the noise becomes clearer—a weak, almost pitiful whimper. I gesture for Noah to stay back as I inch forward.

“You’re under arrest,” I grit out with handcuffs in my hand.

I finally see a girl, no older than twenty, huddled on the ground. In that split second of disbelief, a searing pain rips through my gut.

I stumble back, realizing too late she’s just gutted me with a knife. I fight the urge to crumble, to let the pain take over. Adrenaline kicks in, reminding me I’m still in the fight. Ignoring the blood pouring from the wound, I lunge forward, disarming the girl with a swift move.

“Fuck,” I gasp, clutching my stomach as I kick the knife away. Blood seeps through my fingers, but I can’t afford to let up. I’ve got to finish this, wound be damned.

Noah and Emily rush in, arresting the girl. They look at me, and I can see concern etched on their faces.

“You okay, Rick?” Emily asks.

I nod, blood staining my shirt. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The girl looks up at me with big, scared eyes. “Please, let me go,” she sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

What the fuck is going on? I look at her, still clutching my bleeding gut.

“Who the hell are you?” I manage to grind out through the pain.

“Jessica. Jessica Turner,” she says, tears streaming down her face. “Please, you have to believe me. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Bullshit,” I snarl. “Why’d you do it, then?”

“It wasn’t my idea,” she cries harder, trembling like a leaf. “It was her. She made me do it.”

“Who?” I demand. “Who the fuck made you do this?”

“A girl. Petite, brown hair, ying-yang eyes,” she says, looking around like she’s expecting someone to come out.

Emily’s eyes narrow. She pulls out her phone and shows Jessica a picture. “This girl?”

Jessica nods frantically. “Yes! That’s her! I swear, she made me do it. She said she’d kill me if I didn’t go along with it.”

Noah’s face hardens. “We’ve gotta arrest Izel.”

The medics swarm around me, and their hands start working quickly to patch up the knife wound. Fuck, it stings like hell, but I grit my teeth and bear it. Noah’s standing nearby probably waiting for an explanation about Izel.

“How the hell did you know about Luna’s location?” he asks with genuine curiosity. I don’t bother answering. Instead, I turn my attention to the medic.

“You done patching me up?” I growl, eager to get back to the action. The medic hesitates, looking at me with concern.

“Sir, I don’t think you should be working with that wound,” he advises.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion. Just tell me if it’s fucking done.” The medic nods and I push myself off the makeshift treatment table.

Ignoring Noah’s lingering stare, I pull out my phone and dial Colton. The damn thing rings for what feels like an eternity before he answers.

“Colton, how’s Luna?”

“No major injuries, Rick. She’ll be fine,” he assures me. Relief floods through me, and I manage a gruff, “Good. Is she awake?”

“No, she’s still out,” Colton replies. “Looks like she was kept bound to a chair. Scarring on her wrists suggests she was tied up for a while.”

“Fuck,” I grind my teeth. “Stay with her. Call me as soon as she wakes up.”

“You got it,” Colton says.

Noah comes over with a serious look on his face. “Rick, we found fingerprints on the chair,” he says.

My heart races. “Whose?”

“I ran them through the database. They came back as a match for Izel or whoever the hell she is.”

We arrive at Izel’s house, and I kick the door open without hesitation. “Izel!” I shout, storming through the rooms. It’s empty.

Of course, it’s empty. I’m the one who told her to run from me. Now I have to act like I’m clueless, like I didn’t give her the heads-up. I search the rooms, rifling through drawers and cupboards, making a show of it for my body-cam and for anyone watching. The place is spotless, no signs of recent activity, no clues to where she might have gone. It’s almost laughable how thorough she’s been in her departure.

“Clear,” Emily echoes from upstairs.

“Rick, come here,” Noah calls out from the kitchen.

“What is it?”

He points to a smear of blood on the counter. “Blood. Fresh.”

Did I mean to draw her blood? Probably not but fuck if it didn’t make my cock hard.

“Should we bag it?” Noah asks, looking at me for direction.

I shake my head. “No, let it go. It’s not a huge amount.”

Noah nods, but I can see the doubt in his eyes. Emily joins us, frowning as she looks around the kitchen.

“It’s weird,” she says. “The whole house is spotless, but the kitchen’s a mess.”

“Forget the fucking kitchen. We need to find her. Noah, were you able to trace the GPS on her car?”

I mean it. I need to find her. She crossed a line when she threatened a girl and coerced her to attack me. This isn’t just about catching a fugitive anymore; it’s personal. I need to understand why she did it, what drove her to such extremes. And deep down, a part of me still wants to believe there’s more to her story than what meets the eye. But I can’t let that cloud my judgment. She’s dangerous, and I need to bring her in before she hurts anyone else.

Noah pulls out his phone, tapping a few buttons. “Yeah, give me a second. The GPS data shows her car last pinged near an old warehouse on the east side.”

“Good,” I say, the tension easing slightly. “Let’s move.”

We arrive at the warehouse, which is more like an abandoned factory. We move in with our guns drawn.

“Noah, take the left. Emily, cover the right. I’ll take the center,” I order.

I search every inch of my area, but it’s a goddamn ghost town. Just as I’m about to give up, I spot a door that’s slightly ajar. I grip my gun tighter and cautiously push it open, stepping out into a yard. There it is—Izel’s car, stashed to the side.

I tuck my gun back in its holster and pull out my gloves. I should call Noah and Emily, but I can’t. If there’s anything in that car that could fuck up Izel’s life even more, I need to get rid of it. I want to arrest her, but the thought of her behind bars makes me sick.

I approach the car, noticing the lock is surprisingly undone. As I reach for the door handle, pain explodes in the back of my head. My vision blurs and I feel warm blood trickling down my neck. I stumble, trying to stay upright, and catch a glimpse of my assailant’s reflection in the car window.

Reflected in the glass is a man holding a hockey stick, the one he just used to crack my skull. His face is a blur, but the intent is clear. My knees buckle, and the world starts to spin as I struggle to stay conscious.

I hit the ground hard and try to reach for my gun, but everything’s spinning. The pain is unreal, like my head’s splitting open. I struggle to focus, but it’s like swimming through molasses.

The bastard kicks me in the ribs, and I gasp, curling up in agony. I manage to crack my eyes open, seeing nothing but blurry outlines. Izel’s face flashes in front of me. Did she set me up? No, it doesn’t make sense.

Then she pulls out a knife, and my heart skips a beat. “Izel, no!” I croak, but my voice is weak, the pain in my head making it hard to even think straight.

She doesn’t hear me or maybe she just doesn’t care. The guy manages to grab her arm, but she twists, slashing his forearm. Blood sprays, and he yells, stumbling back.

“Stop!” I try again, louder this time, but the agony in my ribs and head is too much. I can barely move, let alone stop her.

She slashes again, this time across his chest. He goes down, clutching the wound, but she doesn’t stop. She straddles him, driving the knife into his gut. Over and over. Each thrust is accompanied by a grunt of effort. It’s brutal. Savage. And I’m helpless to do anything about it.

“Fuck, Izel, stop!” I shout, but I can barely keep my eyes open.

Finally, she stops, and stands up, looking down at the lifeless body beneath her. Then she turns to me.

“Richard, are you okay?”

I try to answer, but everything goes dark. The pain in my head sharpens, and I black out.