PART 4
Lawless are they that make their wills their law.
William Shakespeare
Chapter One
Teddy
We make our way upstairs and despite the seriousness of the situation, I can't help but continue to steal glances at Branson. His face is serious, stern, and I can't help but admire it.
He thought I betrayed him to Jane—we'll have to clear that up at some point—but I want to go back to before she showed up. The new Branson intrigues me, and I crave more. Once we get upstairs, I lock the basement door, a task so routine it's automatic. The bell rings again.
"Someone really wants to talk to Jane," he mutters, his hand clenching around the blade he grabbed. I watch his hands and imagine him holding that knife in one, my throat in the other. My thighs squeeze together involuntarily.
He steps out of the kitchen and toward the foyer and I follow, shaking my head to dispel the ill-timed thoughts. Plenty of time later for that. I wait as he goes up to the eyehole, peaking out before muttering fuck and stepping away.
My forehead knits together as I step up and look out, my eyes widening immediately.
"The fucking police?" I exclaim, more baffled than anything. While being wary of them in the city was something I've grown used to, we're so secluded out here and I've never seen one close. Why the hell are there cops here now?
The man bangs on the other side of the door, making me jump.
"What the hell do we do?" I ask, my voice quiet. Branson just shakes his head.
"I'm thinking."
I look back out the peephole, narrowing my eyes to look around better. I peek around and only see the one man.
"I think he's alone," I whisper.
I pull away and look at Branson, who's watching me with an expression I can't read. I hear a noise from outside and look to see the cop heading down the steps, pausing at the bottom to look back up at the door. Chills run up my spine and I get the uncanny feeling that he knows we're here.
"Stay here and watch him," Branson whispers behind me. "I'm going to get changed quickly and grab the key off Jane. Once he's gone, we should sneak away."
His footsteps fade away and I watch the cop, my eyes narrowing when I realize he isn't heading back to his car. He's walking over to the barn.
I lick my lips and feel a familiar rush as I realize what I get to do next. I pat down my side and realize I have no knives on me. Frowning, I head to the kitchen and grab a chef’s knife, letting it run down my finger. A small line of blood wells up and I smile.
"Perfect."
Moving quietly, I head toward the front door, making sure the cop isn't in sight before poking my head out, closing the door behind me. Heavy clouds are building overhead, and a low rumble in the distance makes me grin.
It hasn't been my day, but it looks like it's about to get a lot better.
Stalking along the side of the house, I make my way toward the cop and the barn, knife in hand.
I lick my lips as I peer around the corner of the building, the door to the main room wide open. The cop stands at the front, looking in with a large, black flashlight. His other hand is on his gun, but it isn't drawn. I look down at my outfit, splattered with blood as it is, and smile. Shoving the knife down the back of my pants, I let out a breath before dropping my face and stumbling out into the clearing.
The cop whips around, drawing his gun immediately before his eyes widen.
"Holy fuck! What the hell happened to you, girl?" The man puts the gun away and rushes over to me, one hand going to the radio at his belt. "Officer Green calling—”
My hand darts out, the sharp blade plunging deep into his gut. The man gurgles, dropping his radio as his hands fall to his stomach. He looks down at the knife and then up at me, confusion and pain written on his face.
I giggle, stepping back as he drops to the ground.
"Oops," I say with a hand to my mouth, the giggle turning into a full laugh as he falls to his side, blood dribbling out of his mouth.
"Officer Green, please repeat?"
I frown down at the radio and lean to pick it up.
"Mia! What the fuck did you do!"