Crashed Into a Gangster

62

Victoria

Water trickles down my bare skin, as I pull back my wet hair into a small ponytail before I wipe the steamed mirror.

Grasping onto my towel wrapped around my cool body, I reach for my toothbrush and continue preparing for work. Of course while doing so, I'm pulled into a train of my wandering thoughts.

It's been three days since I was taken in for questioning. Detective Greene had his eyes on me, his green irises specked with suspicion, but my twisted words spat Dr. Smith's name. I lulled Greene toward just the right person.

But ever since, I haven't heard anything about the investigation. Nothing.

Ann stayed over, not only to munch on the last bit of pretzel sticks and the one jar of peanut butter I had - but in addition to tuning into the News for any updates on accused suspects having to do with Jack's murder.

So far, and again; nothing.

And I couldn't help but to wonder about him, and if the investigators traced everything back to the gangster. I asked myself what I could, or would do, if he did in fact get arrested for murdering my ex fiancé; and I got nothing for an answer.

Because he left - and he left because of me. So, what is there to do?

"Vic..." I hear my sister call for me, interjecting my inner thoughts, her piping voice in a rather dangerously low tone. I glance over my shoulder, brows furrowed when curiosity frames me.

Swinging open my bathroom door, I hurry out of my bedroom and jog down stairs toward the living room - still only clothed in the thick white towel alone.

I find Ann on the black couch, propped on either of her knees - a straw hanging from her glossed lips as her hazel, green specked irises are already holding onto mine - her arched brows raised.

"Look, look, look look look!" She pipes, immediately spinning around, planting her behind on the soft cushions of the couch as the television remote is in her hands. I rush up to her, planting my two feet next to the sofa, and I face the tv.

I watch the volume on the wide screen increase. "Early this morning local police have finally gathered the evidence to proclaim the final suspect in Jack Hemingway's murder," A news reporter informs - earning for my heart to hammer instantly.

Instinctively, I glance down at Ann, her warily gaze meeting mine, and she reaches out to hold my hand for comfort. I take in a deep breath, squeezing her hand in mine. I hurriedly make my way around the couch and claim the spot next to her.

When I return my undivided attention onto the tv screen, it showcases several cop cars on a street corner - but there's too many to determine where they are exactly.

And then, just when the view clears from where the live report is being casted, his face reveals the moment the news reporter retrieves his name. There, in cuffs, he is escorted toward a police car;

"Doctor Neil Smith wasn't scheduled for a formal court date, due to the lack of suspects in this murder case, and prior to the homicide he will be sentenced life in..." Suddenly, the professional tone of the news reporter fades, and an instant ringing goes off in my ears - before all I can feel is my rapid heart beat.

Lub dub...lub dub...

I release the shaky breath I held; the pounding of my wild heart ascending - my sister's comforting grasp on my hand tightening. "I did it." I breathe - and the ringing falters.

I flick my gaze onto Ann seated next to me, my lips curving upward and forming a smile. "We did it... Ann we did it!" I exclaim, her warm arms pulling into an embrace.

Ann chuckles next to my ear and squeals in triumph, squeezing my frame tighter and tighter. And just like that - as if it were a light switch - a heavy weight claims it's territory on my chest. My heart skips a beat, and my smile falters.

"Do you think he knows?" I question, barely audible against Ann's ear. Her warm arms release me, and instinctively I gently pull away. She latches onto my brown irises.

I catch her shoulders tense a bit, and she bites her lip. "I don't know, sweetie." She answers softly, resting her hand on my bare shoulder. "But it's Rio, I'm pretty sure he knows somehow." She throws in, rolling her hazel irises, and earning a slight grin from me in turn.

"Right." I say within a deep breath. I curl my lip and lean back onto the soft pillows. My gaze averts onto the vaulted ceiling above me. "What do think he's saying right now? About all of this?" I ask, curiosity pulsating within my veins.

Beside me, I hear my sister take in a low breath. "I think you know what he would be saying." Ann claims, and I turn to fixate my brown eyes her way.

My sister's glossed lips purse, her brows raised as she watches me, before she pushes herself off the cushion next to me. Ann comes to a firm stand, beginning to walk around the black couch before she playfully back-hand slaps my bare shoulder.

"You did it, sis. That's all that matters." She adds, moments before disappearing into my kitchen. I stay on my comfortable black couch only moments longer, in silence, my lips unwillingly twitching before I gather the strength to get up again.

I did it.

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The next chapter will be the last. AHGAHHSSJD

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