Shattered ✓

F O R T Y - F I V E

Alexa

The flashing red and blue lights of the police cars painted the night in harsh, pulsing colors. The sirens had been turned off by now, but their echoes still rang in my ears. Everything felt surreal, like I was watching it all unfold from outside my own body.

Ryder had been rushed into an ambulance minutes ago, his face pale, his hoodie soaked in blood. The paramedics worked quickly, barking medical terms I didn't understand. I wanted to go with him, wanted to be by his side, but Zach insisted that Cameron go instead.

"I'll meet you there," Zach had told him, his voice tight with fear. Cameron barely nodded before climbing into the ambulance, his expression unreadable. Then the doors slammed shut, and the vehicle sped off, its siren cutting through the quiet.

Now, I stood on the front porch, shivering despite the warm night air, while two police officers questioned me.

One of them—a stern-faced woman with sharp eyes—stood in front of me, notepad in hand. The other, a man with tired eyes and a stubbled jaw, hovered beside her, watching me closely.

"Alexa," the female officer said, her voice level but firm, "we need you to walk us through exactly what happened. Take your time."

I swallowed, trying to steady my breathing. Andrew stood next to me, his arms crossed so tightly that his knuckles were white. Justin and Jason were standing near the front steps, talking in hushed voices, their faces pale. Blake and Ethan lingered near the fence, their worry evident even though they weren't family.

Michael and Jackson were a little farther off, their faces unreadable. Michael was unusually quiet, and Jackson kept shifting uncomfortably, his arms crossed over his chest.

But Elliot—

Elliot hadn't moved.

He was sitting on the porch steps, his arms resting on his knees, his fingers curled into fists. His knife—the knife he used to kill Benny—had already been taken by the cops, sealed away in an evidence bag.

His face was blank.

Empty.

Like he wasn't here anymore.

I forced myself to focus on the officer in front of me. "It all happened so fast," I admitted, my voice quieter than I expected. "Benny showed up... Ryder and I were on the porch... he started talking like he always does, trying to scare us. Ryder stood up to him, but—"

I stopped.

I could still see it. Benny's smirk. The way he moved so fast that I barely saw the knife before it was already buried in Ryder's side.

The officer didn't rush me.

I took a shaky breath. "He stabbed Ryder," I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "Then he grabbed me. He was trying to take me. I—I think he was going to drag me over the fence, but then the others came outside. That's when Elliot..."

My gaze flicked to Elliot. He hadn't even looked up.

"He killed him," I finished.

The officer wrote something down before glancing toward the crime scene. Benny's body was still there, covered with a white sheet, but I could see the dark stain seeping through. It should've made me feel sick.

But it didn't.

"Was it self-defense?" she asked.

I hesitated. "Yes," I said firmly. "Benny still had the knife. Elliot was protecting us."

The male officer nodded, his expression unreadable. "And do you know if Benny had threatened you before tonight?"

I almost laughed.

"Yes," I said again, my voice sharper now. "For months. He left dead animals in my room, broke into my house, threatened me, my brothers, my friends. We called the cops before, but nothing happened. Nothing ever happened."

My chest heaved with frustration, but the officers didn't react. If anything, they looked like they expected that answer.

The woman sighed, flipping through her notes. "Alright. We'll need to take your statement officially at the station, but for now, you and your family should get to the hospital. Your brother needs you."

At the mention of Ryder, my body finally caught up with the adrenaline wearing off. My knees felt weak. My stomach twisted with anxiety.

Zach, who had been standing behind me, stepped forward. "What's going to happen to Elliot?"

Everyone turned toward him.

Elliot still didn't move.

The male officer sighed, rubbing his temple. "We have to bring him in for questioning, but given the circumstances..." He glanced at his partner.

"We don't believe this was premeditated," the woman finished. "But it is a homicide investigation, so we'll need to process everything properly."

Elliot finally looked up. His expression was blank. His eyes were empty.

"I'll go," he said, his voice quiet.

Something twisted in my chest.

Michael stepped forward, his usual playful energy completely gone. "I'll go with him."

"Me too," Jackson quickly says.

The officers exchanged glances before nodding. "Alright. But the rest of you should get to the hospital. Your brother is the priority."

Zach hesitated, then exhaled sharply. "Fine. Alexa, Andrew—let's go."

I wanted to argue, to stay, but Ryder needed me.

I turned to Elliot, my throat tight. "We'll see you soon, okay?" I really hope that that's true.

Elliot didn't respond.

Michael placed a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, dude," he murmured.

With one last glance at Elliot, I forced myself to turn away.

Zach was already heading toward the car, his grip white-knuckled on the keys. Andrew followed, his face still pale, his fists clenched at his sides. Justin and Jason got in the backseat without a word.

I climbed into the car, barely aware of my own movements.

As we pulled out of the driveway, I stole one last look at the house.

The crime scene tape. The officers talking in hushed voices.

And Elliot, standing perfectly still as Michael and Jackson guided him toward the police car.

I swallowed hard, turning back around.

We had won. Benny was gone.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, we had still lost.