“Emberlise Craven.” A voice sounds over a speaker system. “Hands up where we can see them.”
“E!” I turn at the sound of Travis’ voice and close my eyes in relief.
Carm’s guy holds on to Vin as I slowly raise my hands in the air and step forward.
“No!” Travis screams. “She didn’t do anything. What are you doing?”
Two police officers rush forward and one yanks my hands down behind my back while the other stands in front of me, reading me my rights.
“Get Vin to the hospital.” I yell to Travis.
I watch as the rest of the police officers rush into the building and I send a silent prayer up for Carm. I hope he makes it out of there alive.
I’m being dragged and pushed into a police car when I hear Travis behind me causing a scene. I need him to snap out of it and get his brother to the fucking hospital.
Two police officers get in the car and look back at me.
“What am I being arrested for?” I ask.
“The murder of Andrew Cox.” One of them growls and I exhale a huff.
“Whatever.” I tip my head back against the seat.
I can’t see any way of getting out of this.
I’ve been denied bail and allowed no visitors as I await my trial. I’ve spoken to the family lawyer who is trying his best to find a way to get me out of this but it’s bad. They have video surveillance of me on the street where they found Andrew’s body. It puts me there around the time of his murder. Then police Chief Moore is found with a gunshot wound to the neck and many eye witness accounts from other police officers stating I did it. Which I did.
I’ve been told only a handful of people survived in that basement including Moore. My brother wasn’t one of them. He was found with several gunshots to his chest and I have yet another death to grieve later. He’s been pushed down deep to settle with my mother and Tommy.
“Ember, I need something here,” my lawyer stresses. “What were you doing on that street that day?”
“I was looking for Andrew. I was supposed to meet up with him and he didn’t show.”
“But how did you know he was there?” He implores.
“I didn’t. It was a guess.” I drop my head into my hands. “My phone records will show that I received a text message from Andrew to meet up with him after his meeting with Moore. He didn’t show. In another text message from Andrew you will see he tells me where he’s meeting Moore and that’s where we found him.”
“Okay, I will petition the court for a warrant to the cell phone company, but that can take weeks. Ember, you’re in here for a while.”
“I got nowhere else to be.” I shrug.
That’s a lie. I want to be home to make sure Vin is recovering. According to my lawyer he spent one week in the hospital just a few doors down from Moore and was released to recover at home. I can only imagine the shitstorm Sharla has caused.
I'm escorted back to my jail cell and tossed-none too gently-back inside. They hate me here because I'm a cop killer. Little do they know I'm a pervert killer too, but that's neither here nor there.
I lay back on my cot and scratch another notch into the wall. Fifteen days. That's how long I've been in here. Fifteen days of food being thrown across my cell floor, male cops jeering through my bars as I piss, and random threats of violence throughout the day.
I'm just biding my time here and waiting for the perfect time to strike. It may not be this week, month, or even year but it will come and I will bathe in their fucking blood while I dance naked around their bodies.
"We should come in there and show you exactly what happens to girls that misbehave." One cop calls out.
"Yeah, operative word being girls." I sneer right back. "I know exactly how you and your chief liked to operate. But I think I'm a little too old for your tastes right?"
I hear him grumbling, probably all the nasty things he'd want to do with my dead body-get in line bitch.
26
It's been twenty-one days and I'm in a dark room no more than ten square feet big. I'm sporting a shiner and a busted lip from a guard whose elbow slipped. It's all good because my fist slipped afterward and I broke his nose. Hence, being thrown in the hole.
I've lost weight, mostly muscle mass from not eating more than one meal a day. Having your food thrown on the floor will do that. I feel weak and no matter how much I try to work out, I have no fucking energy.
I haven't spoken to anyone on the outside except for my lawyer who brings me updates. My family is working tirelessly to get me out and he said he had to talk Emmett down a few times from trying to bust me out. Who the fuck does he think he is? Michael Scofield? He doesn't have the brain to even attempt it. He'd end up bombing the place and hoping I'd make it through the explosion.
I miss them. Every time I think of their faces, I want to scream to release the building pressure in my chest. It's not unlike how I was feeling while trapped at The Rampage's compound over a year ago. I push the thought away as I see Carm's face swim into my vision and the first time I found out he was my brother.
I don't have time to be depressed here, it's dangerous to lose my mind to it and leave myself vulnerable. I have to keep my guard up and prepare for anything to happen.
"Craven." I hear a cop
