baby i ➵ royce

Ch. 17 - 'Twas The Night Before.

And that’s when I noticed that I’m trapped in a dilemma.

Continuing on finding my daughter or resecuring my boyfriend under two minutes is the biggest dilemma that I’m now facing. It’s an impasse because the both of them is the biggest part of my life. I can’t afford to lose one. I refuse to lose one!

If you believe that I should rescue Jacob first, then how should I know that Ashton is still alive as I’m standing here frozen? My daughter has chronic asthma and that can take her life out any second because she had not took any medication even since she been missing.

If you believe that I should go continue the search for my daughter, what if the bomb on Jacob explodes soon these minutes are up? The explosion could kill EVERYBODY. Me, Alexander, my best friends, this whole fucking house!

As the time keep ticking down and internally overreacting, I quickly made up a plan.

I pulled out my pocket knife out of my pocket. I know that it may not be strong enough to cut these corresponding cords, but it’s sure is worth a try. My lover can’t die here and now. I began to pull and try to slice the cords, even though it’s complicated than I thought.

“You think a goddamn pocket knife can cut those wires?” Alexander laughed. “You are the most stupid detective that I ever seen.”

I ignored his animosity comment so I can save Jacob’s life, as the time has now gone to sixty seconds.

Speaking of Jacob, he woke up from his unconsciousness. After he realized that there’s a piece of duct tape surrounding his mouth and his feet, his body is knotted by strong ropes, and seeing me struggling to stop this bomb from alarming that sitting on his upper torso, he began mumbling and crying in panic.

“I’m tryin’ baby, I’m tryin’!” I shouted in panic mood.

Abruptly, Breaunna burst in.

“Chres, I’ll get it!” Breaunna panted as she running to the both of us. I handed her my pocket knife and she began pulling the wires from the dynamites.

As Bre trying to disconnect the ropes from the bomb that about to destruct in thirty-five seconds, I strike Alexander by meeting my fist against his jaw. He stumbled and hold the area that I strike him. The both of us was giving each other looks that read nothing but indignation. He whipped out a gun that was setting in his back pocket and targeted at me.

“You should never bring a fist to a gunfight,” Alex scowled.

“Y’know bringing a gun to a fist fight you’re considered a pussy, right?” I scowled back.