Ыоуве Been Warned   ::   Patterson James

Chapter 102



“PLEASE, DON’T DO THIS,” begs Stephen in a high-pitched whine. “Please, no! Please!” He’s naked, quivering and cowering by the foot of the bed. It’s all I can see in the dim room.

“Shut up!” barks Michael. “Shut the hell up!”

It’s happening so fast, and I’m frozen, almost as if I’m stuck in time or I’m watching a dream. That hideous burning smell is back too.

Michael cocks the gun, his voice seared with rage. “You fucked the wrong woman, and youdefinitely fucked with the wrong guy,” he says to Stephen. Then -

PFFTT!

I see the spurt of blood even before I hear the strange muffled blast.

The back of Stephen’s head blows out, and the wall behind him is splattered with dark red brain matter. For a second, he remains standing, his eyes open and brimming with terror. A flap of scalp juts out behind his ear like an open gate. This isn’t a dream, Kris.

Then Stephen’s body goes limp, as if a puppeteer suddenly released the strings. His arms and legs fold as he melts to the floor, a pool of blood around his head creeping wider and wider. The blood on the floor looks almost black.

God is in the details, right?

I begin to scream, just like in my dream.

Michael whirls around, his arm outstretched, the gun aimed right at me. Watching his gloved trigger finger twitch, I throw out my hands. “NO! MICHAEL! IT’S ME!”

He squints, seeing that it’s true. It is me.

“What are you doing here?” he says, lowering the gun.

I struggle for words, but there aren’t any up to the task. All I can do is slowly walk toward him. I’m not sure if I want to hold him or hit him.

“Don’t touch anything!” he says. It’s an order.

Huh?

“Fingerprints,” he explains. “Ours can’t be here. Don’t touch a thing.”

He begins twisting a small tube off the gun’s barrel – a silencer, I assume. That’s why the blast wasn’t really much of a blast.

Then he stops, thinks for a split second, changes his mind. Twist, twist, twist. The silencer stays on.

That’s the word for this, isn’t it? Twisted.

I keep moving toward him, my body feeling as if it’s crumbling with each step. Words finally come. “What have you done, Michael?”

That’s when I look farther into the bedroom and realize -I only knew half of it.

Michael slaps his hand over my mouth before I can scream again.