𝘾𝙝𝙚́𝙧𝙞𝙚 // 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐎𝐜 (Book #1)

GIVE ME A MINUTE // CH16

⋆⁺₊⋆ Chérie ⋆⁺₊⋆

 Maybe it's time to forget you

Maybe it's time to throw dirt upon your name

Or place blame

But it's no one's fault

No it's no one's fault

We're just late

-Lizzy McAlpine 

PLAYLIST RECCOMENDED FOR READING: 

OCTOBER 31st

The room went pitch black and turned on to a devilish red as the sirens pierced through the halls and their eardrums.

Karens heartbeat (not accustomed to the sirens and change of lighting) then raced as she said, "what the hell is going on?"

Mercedes bounced around the room for her phone. Though it didn't buzz, rather the radio which was on her weak wooden desk.

"Ante! Terrorist attack on eighth!"

"The hell?" respond Mercedes as she pressed the top of the radio to communicate to Mahoney.

As she let go of the button, she then bent down under her desk to grab her revolver, in a huff she responded, "Don't mean to quote spy kids Brent, but who what where and why?"

As she took out a revolver and placed it on her hip, as she buttoned her top down, she took off her bullet proof vest, standing up she instructed Karen, "Take this"

"what?" said Karen as her eyes went to another reason as to why Matt probably spent so much time with her, "no, you need this—"

"take it." said Mercedes as her arms went back to blouse, "i'll get another one later."

"Mercedes—"

"shut the fuck up and take the vest. Your not dying on my watch."

She clicked her radio once again and said, "Do you need backup or are we waiting this one out?"

"you get your ass and your gun here in ten minutes tops. It's not your job to recite the script to 'spy kids' but it's to figure out what the hell is happening."

Mercedes signed as she grabbed an extra gun and placed it in her messenger bag.

"who died??" asked Mercedes as she tied her hair up and closed her bag.

Brent responded as he he ordered men to get out, "Women, children, a recipe for daredevil to show up make our lovely lives happier."

a trap.

"how many? who?"

"Mercedes, do I look like a documentary, No i don't have all the answers— thats your job. Ya hear that?"

Gunshots.

"you gotta figure out why more shots were fired and get your ass to work."

"Got it." said Mercedes sternly as she raced to the door. Christ, in this station who was she gonna call? Frank or Matt...

Call none. Both won't answer.

The brunette turned her head to the blonde who followed her around like a lonely dog and said, "you keep your ass here."