The Fugitive

The Confession

Brook Aldridge's POV

"I will tell you where he is on one condition—I go with you."

Anderson chuckled. "What? Can't make it by yourself?"

I clenched my fists. "You know very well why I can't go alone. You put me on probation."

Anderson hesitated, eyes darted back and forth. Finally, she exhaled. "Fine. Whatever."

I grinned and rubbed my hands together. "Now. Here's what you need to know."

Nick Sievers' POV

My alarm clock went off and I shot straight up.  Because nothing says "good morning" quite like a heart attack.

As I slid out of bed, my mind instantly flew to what today held. This was it. This was the day I would get rid of Aly's problem once and for all.

Yesterday still played over and over in my head, though. Something was most definitely off. And I had learned to trust my instincts. The last time I had a bad feeling about an assignment....well, that was Richard. That was what got me into this mess in the first place. So this time, I would come in with guns blazing.

Someone pounded on the door. I frowned. I wasn't expecting a visitor. And Aly's knock didn't have that kind of force behind it.

I cursed inwardly and yanked away the threadbare rug. I grabbed the handgun underneath just as I heard a voice say, "My niece hired this man to kill me."

"Police! Open up!"

The back entrance. I yanked the false wall away and crawled out onto the ledge before putting it back in place. Heart pounding, I made for the fire escape.

As I wrapped a hand around the rusty metal which most definitely broke the fire code, I heard a boom as my apartment door gave way.

I raced down the fire escape, not even stopping when my feet hit the ground. The only way that uncle could know about me was if Aly tipped him off.

I turned the corner and used the shadows of the alleyway as cover. In my rush, I ran into a person. "Watch where you're going," he said.

"Sorry," I mumbled, but paused. That voice. I recognized that voice. This was the man who had lead the police to me.

Instantly, I whirled around and pointed my gun at him. "You," I said accusingly.

The man held his hands up. "Me? I....who are you?"

"The man you're trying to get arrested."

I expected him to shout for help, but for some reason he remained silent. I cocked my head. "Who are you?"

He laughed nervously. "I'm....I'm no one. Nobody at all. Now if you would please put the gun down-"

"No," I said in a flat tone. I was done with this man. He was clearly just wasting time. Off went the gun's safety, and the man shifted uneasily on his feet.

I saw his next move before it happened. He pressed his weight back on his right foot as if he was going to jump on me.

He sprung forward to tackle me. I sidestepped him, but his hand clipped the gun. It went flying out of my grasp and skittered to a stop on the wet ground of the alley.

Momentarily distracted by my now-empty hand, I forgot about the man on the ground beside me. His palms wrapped around my ankles and yanked me to the ground. I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists. If a fistfight what what he wanted, a fistfight he would get.

But the man' eyes weren't on me. I followed his gaze to the gun. We glanced at each other, then both scrambled toward the weapon. Of course, though, I was faster. My foot connected with his jaw and he collapsed in pain. I picked up the gun and approached the fallen figure.

"You hurt a little girl!" I roared. "What kind of vile person are you to attack her?" The irony didn't escape me. I realized I could've just as well have been talking about myself, but that didn't matter. All that mattered now was the pure rage coursing through my veins. Passion. For the first time since Jay's death, I actually cared about something.

The man didn't respond. Instead, he curled up into a ball and wrapped his arms around his head, as if that would help.

"Coward! Answer me! Why did you do it?"

Silence. Water dripped from a pipe nearby. A squirrel skittered by.

I exhaled heavily. No more wasting time. I aimed the gun directly at the man's head and—

"Wait!" a voice called out.

I furrowed my brows. That voice. I knew that voice. Gun still pointed toward the man, I turned around and watched a figure step out of the shadows.

I didn't know how to feel in that moment. Rage and love filled me simultaneously. Pity and disgust. Anger and joy.

Brook Aldridge was standing right in front of me.

I opened my mouth to retort, but I couldn't form the words. I steeled my expression, chastising myself for letting the cool façade slip.

"Don't shoot," Aldridge said. It wasn't a plea as much as a command.

Finally, I found my voice. "Or what?" I asked. "You throw me away like an old toy and suddenly show up, expecting me to just obey your every command?" I shook my head. "Let me guess. There's probably a group of soldiers waiting for me to make a run for it."

Her expression softened and she took a step closer to me. "No, Nick-"

"Don't call me that! You don't get to act like you care about me."

Aldridge sighed and frowned. "If you decide to go, no one will stop you. Please, just spare him." She turned out her pockets and lifted her hands. "I'm not even carrying a weapon."

I scanned her warily. "You don't understand how cruel this man is. Give me one good reason not to kill him."

She flinched. Visibly flinched. As if she was....scared? Ashamed?

Hesitant. I settled on hesitant. I had just asked a question she didn't want to answer.

"Nick-I mean, Sievers, he's my husband."