cause a scene, with witnesses. Though, they hadn’t seemed the least bit perturbed about opening fire in a neighborhood, so he had little faith that things would suddenly change given the circumstances. The drawbridge continued to open, each section slowly rising, oblivious to the three vehicles approaching at high speed. Micah watched as the riders closed the gap. He was running out of real estate almost as quickly as his options disappeared. “Well, fuck it. Don’t have much to lose at this point.”

Micah pushed the pedal down until it threatened to snap, forcing his car to speed up to the limits of what would likely achieve in the less-than-ideal conditions. He burst through the barricade, sending the fragments of wood flying off into the distance. The uniformed man jumped out of his guardhouse to yell something, like a retired man angry at school children for walking on his lawn. But Micah was too busy flooring his car up the newfound ramp, wondering what lay in wait on the other side. His car reached the top of the separated portion of bridge and careened over toward the other side. It touched down a moment later and spun into a bannister.

The sport bikes followed suit immediately, their riders unwilling to let the man responsible for Hurst’s murder escape unharmed. They wove through the onlookers at the base of the bridge, and around the scattered fragments of barricade. Both riders glanced at the rising bridge, then at one another, nodding slightly in affirmation of what must come next. The first bike jumped the gap, barely landing both wheels on the other side before crumpling. The rider went sliding down the incline. His partner wasn’t so lucky, reaching the zenith of the jump a few seconds too late and without the momentum necessary to clear the gap. He careened into the underside of the bridge in a fiery explosion that echoed for half a mile.

Groggy, blood pouring down one side of his face, Micah opened his eyes to see the body of one biker walking toward him. He fumbled around for the pistol, finally retrieving it as his door creaked open. Micah fired three shots and sat still in anticipation for a feeling of pain that didn’t follow. He got out of the car and felt in the pockets of the first rider. Inside were a set of keys and an identification badge. He flipped it over and saw Victor Perez’s face scowling back at him. Micah’s stomach gurgled as he rushed over to the bike and fired it up.

Chapter 58

Micah rode the sport bike to a stop down the street from his apartment. The lights were on inside, but it was hard to tell if anyone was home. He hoped Valerie had heeded his warning, not just treated it as his rambling for nothing. There was a tightness in his chest at he walked toward the building. He pulled out his key and unlocked the door slowly, hesitant to open it without knowing what would greet him on the other side. The faint sound of voices down the hallway forced him in to action and he stepped inside. Valerie immediately rushed over and hugged him tightly.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, sweetheart,” Valerie said. She led Micah over to the living room, mindful of his every move. He placed his pistol on the dining room table, content that it would be of no further use to him that afternoon, and sat down on the couch.

“You don’t have to worry anymore. It’s all over now.”

Valerie smiled at Micah and grabbed hold of his hand, a litany of thoughts running rampant in her mind. There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but she hadn’t the foggiest idea where to start. She wondered how he could be sure everything was over, that they were safe, when he did not know what any of that would even entail. The sound of her phone ringing eventually broke through the stupor that had formed.

She walked over to the dining room table and grabbed her phone. A quick glance at the screen revealed an unknown number. They called a second time, and she put the phone to her ear. She felt her heart drop as the voice on the other end instructed her on what came next. She never spoke a word, but hesitantly grabbed Micah’s pistol. Tears streamed down her face as she walked behind him. A brief silence was snuffed out by the unmistakable sound of gunshots.

THE END

Dear Reader,

Before you go, I’m incredibly humbled that you’ve chosen to read Murder in the Magic City. Whether you loved or hated the book, or maybe had a reaction which lies somewhere between those two, please consider leaving a brief review, even if it’s just to say this book reminded you of another book. Short or long, reviews and word of mouth are incredibly helpful for independent authors like me.

No matter the rating, every review makes me happy as it shows someone was passionate enough about the work to share their thoughts. Again, thank you for taking the time to read and thank you in advance if you decide to leave a review.

Sincerely and with warmest regards,

G.P. Sorrells

Author Bio

G.P. Sorrells is an independent author hailing from the sometimes obnoxiously sunny state of Florida. He is a husband, father, and gaming enthusiast (both digital and tabletop). He earned his Bachelor of Arts in English, with a focus on Creative Writing, from Florida Gulf Coast University. Although he currently makes his living toiling away in the confines of retail management, he hopes to one day make the jump into writing as a full-time venture.

If you’re interested in finding out what makes him tick, or just want to stay up-to-date on the next works of prose and poetry from this author, please head over to the G.P. Sorrells Facebook Page and click on the Like button. You’ll also be able to find

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