Too Late

And I’m referring to the real cops. Not this poor excuse sitting in front of me right now.

I’m disappointed this isn’t going down how I had planned. I shoot one guy out of self-defense and the rest of them just give up on their fucking duties and scram? That means Jon, Kevin, and Dalton are no longer being detained by them. Which means at least one of them is about to come beating on this door, wondering why the fuck I set them all up like I did.

Which means...I’m kind of in a bind right now. I’m running out of options. I think the only option I really have left is to shoot Luke in his goddamn smug face and get Sloan out of here while I still can. Sure, she’s going to be a little traumatized. But we could go to therapy or something whenever we get settled again. She’s going to need it after being brainwashed like she was.

It’s kind of sad that I’m only left with one option and I only have a minute or so to follow through with it, because I really wanted to hear Luke tell me what it was like when he fucked Sloan.

Not because I would have been turned on by it. I’m not fucking morbid.

I wanted to hear it, because I need the vision. I need to know what he said to her to make her fall for it. I need to know if he had to talk her into it like I did. I need to know if she made the same noises that she sometimes makes when she’s with me. I want to know what position he fucked her in. Was he on top? Was she? Was he behind her?

I just need to know so I can make sure I don’t do or say any of the things he said to her when I make love to her in the future. I need to make sure I never fuck her in the same positions he fucked her in.

But now I’m out of goddamn time, because someone is beating on the door and Luke still hasn’t opened his mouth.

“Asa!”

It’s Dalton.

I’m still not sure what to think about Dalton. I really like him. He’s coke, everybody likes coke. But everyone knows cocaine is one of the most widely impersonated drugs there is. A whole hell of a lot of imposters. Dealers selling crushed up aspirin on street corners to half-dead crack addicts who can’t even tell the difference.

Dalton may not even be cocaine. He’s probably a bottle of fucking Advil, crushed up and poured into a baggie.

“Asa, open the door!” Dalton yells.

I reach behind me and make sure the door is locked. “Where did everyone go?” I yell to Dalton. “It’s quiet out there!”

“Open the door so we can talk.” He’s right on the other side of the door now.

I laugh and repeat myself. “Where is everyone, Dalton? Where are Jon and Kevin?”

“They left. They got paranoid and left.”

Of course they did. Fucking best friends for life. Assholes.

I look over at Sloan. She’s sitting at the head of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. She’s watching me, wide-eyed.

Luke is watching me, too. It doesn’t matter where I’m standing or what I’m doing, his eyes are always fucking on me. Have been since the day I met him. The day Dalton introduced me to him.

I tilt my head until my mouth is close to the crack in the door. “Why are you still here, Dalton? Waiting on your backup to arrive?”

Dalton isn’t so quick to respond this time. After a pause, he says, “I’m here because my friend is in there. If you let him go, we’ll leave.”

I can’t believe I fucking fell for this. Months of practically living with these fuckers and all they were here to do is destroy me.

Kind of feels like my childhood all over again.

At least Sloan loves me.

At least.

I drag my eyes across the room until they land on her. “Remember when I was in the shower earlier and you asked me if I wanted anything from the grocery store?”

She nods, but barely.

“I told you I wanted a dessert for the celebration. Did you get one?”

She nods again. “Your favorite,” she whispers. “Coconut cake.”

See? She fucking loves me.

“Dalton,” I say, demanding his attention. Not that it ever left me.

I should probably move over. He’s right on the other side of this door. Wouldn’t put it past the fucker to shoot me through it.

I step against the wall and reach down to make sure the door is locked. “Do me a favor, will you? Bring us the coconut cake.”

Again, Dalton pauses for a moment before responding. “You want cake?” he says, confused. “You fucking want cake?”

Why does that sound so ridiculous?

“Yes, I want cake! Bring us the fucking coconut cake, asshole!”

I hear Dalton’s footsteps fade as he walks into the kitchen. Luke is staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“You got a problem?”

He shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak. Finally.

“There’s medication that can help you, Asa.”

Medication?

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Luke glances at Sloan and then back at me. I hate it when he looks at her. It makes me want to rip his fucking eyes out and swallow them like my mother’s yellow pills.

“You’ve checked the lock on the door fifteen times in the last five minutes,” he says. “That isn’t normal behavior. But it can be controlled. Just like your father’s behavior could have been controlled.”

This is where I cut the fucker off. “Talk about my father again, Luke. I dare you.”

His eyes meet the gun that’s pointed straight at him now, but for some reason, he still doesn’t shut the fuck up.

“Did you know he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia when he was only twenty-seven? I read it in his file. He never took his meds, Asa, not even once. The things going on inside your head—they can stop. It can all stop. You don’t have to be like him.”

I stride across the room and press the fucking gun to his head. “I’m not like him! I’m nothing like him!”

Before I pull the trigger, Dalton beats on the door.

“How am I supposed to give you the cake?” Dalton yells.

Fuck. Good question.

I start to walk to the door, but the anticipation of coconut cake is ripped from me when I hear sirens. The sound is far off—maybe four or five streets over.

I still have time. If there was a fucking window in this bedroom, I could grab Sloan, shoot Luke, and be out the window and to the car before they get here.

But mother-fucking Dalton is standing in my way.

If he’s standing at the door holding a cake, that means he’s probably right...about...there.

I aim my gun and as soon as I fire it, something hard meets my back. I fall forward, my knees hit the floor, and the gun flies out of my hands. I look behind me and Luke is standing over me, pulling his leg back to kick me in the face. I roll to the side and swipe my leg across the floor, knocking him off balance. He lands on his back.

He immediately starts trying to pull his legs through his arms so his hands will be cuffed in front of him rather than behind him. I sit up and reach for my gun, but Sloan jumps off the bed and lunges across the floor. Our hands reach the gun at the same time, but mine are more experienced and know where to grab it to get the better grip. Her hands fumble around mine until she’s aware that the gun is firmly planted back in my hand. I shove her away from me, back in the goddamn corner.

She hits the wall and scoots as far away from me as she can. By the time I get the gun pointed at Luke, the fucker somehow got his hands around to his front. He’s pulling himself to his feet, so I stay a step ahead and pull the fucking trigger. I watch as the flesh of his thigh explodes into tiny pieces.

Fuck, that looks like it hurt.

He’s on his knees.

His back slams against the wall. He’s wincing, pressing his hands against his wound. Dalton is beating on the door now. “Asa, open the fucking door or I’m shooting it open! Three...two...”

“If you open that door, they’re both dead!” I yell.

Dalton never makes it to one.

I look at Sloan and she’s huddled against the wall, hands over her ears, tears pouring out of her eyes. She’s staring at Luke, looking like she’s about to flip the fuck out. I need to get her out of here before she does. But the sirens are closer now. More than likely on this street.

Fuck.

Think, Asa. Think.

I smack my gun against my forehead three times. I can’t lose her. I can’t. If I’m arrested, I won’t be able to protect her. I won’t be able to touch her. She’ll fall for someone else’s lies. Maybe even Luke’s again.

She’s the only person who has ever loved me. I can’t lose her. I can’t.

I crawl over to her and try to grab her hands, but she keeps pulling away from me. I have to point the damn gun at her head just to get her to be still. I press my forehead to the side of her head. “Tell me you love me, Sloan.” She’s shaking so hard, she can’t even speak. “Please, baby. I need to hear you say it.”

She tries three times to get her voice to work, but she keeps stuttering. Her lips are trembling harder than I’ve ever seen. She finally gets out one sentence. “Let Luke go and I’ll say it.”