Falling For The Bad Guy.

Chapter Eight

Picking Pete off the floor, I know his emotions have crumbled and he is devastated. "This is all my fault. All of it. I could've just caught him, I should've been able to catch him! He's dead now. He's gone. He had so much life to live." He cries. "I know. I know." I say, with my hands around his body. He leans down, putting his head on my chest and says "take me to the hotel." With that, we go outside and get into my car. As I'm driving, I have a whirlwind of thoughts rushing around in my head. The blended body was bad, the sewn on face was horrible, the gutted stomach was disgusting, but to chop someone up and precisely place them into a vending machine, as a display, is horrifying. Now that I know the killer is going to target us, I know I have to get security. I won't let anything happen to me, or him. I'm glad I packed a lot, because it looks like we'll be staying here for a while. When we get back into the room, Peter goes into bed. I'll be happy if he just goes to sleep. Sleep can usually be a way of coping, and an easy way to escape. Escaping reality sounds good for him right now. When he does fall asleep, I call Dennis and explain why this hit Pete so hard. Dennis doesn't know that that's his brother. When I explain everything, he's even more confused. "But his brother lived in Florida." He says over the phone. "I know. Which is why I have realized that these killings have become personal to him and I." When I explain the math to him, he becomes even more confused, yet my words seem to answer some of his questions. "I need a security team at my hotel, right now. I need my room covered. Every window, every door, every area." I demand. "We'll be on it right now. If he's planning on coming after you two next, this son of a bitch has another thing coming." He replies, clearly protective. "Also, have you checked the room Peter and I were in for cameras?" "Yes. Nothing there." "So he must've taken them out. He's doing this very strategically." "He's smart." Dennis says. "Oh I didn't say smart, I said strategic. He's a coward. We're the smart ones. We may not have been able to get him, we may have to lock down the entire world to catch this piece of shit, but it'll happen. Believe me, it'll happen." "I like your confidence within yourself Rebecca. It's a trait many seek, and one many have gained since you came to Georgia. Thank you for your ways." "No need to thank me Chief, just stand by my words." In thirty minutes, I hear a knock on my door. Eight security guards walk in. Tall, built like brick, and secured with guns. Two cover the outside of the door, one covers the inside. Two cover the windows, one covers the bathroom, and two stay in the living/dining room area. I go to sleep that night unsteady and with a heavy heart. Peter always talked so highly about his brother Jacob. He always spoke about his intelligence, and how he was his best-friend growing up. With Peter soon turning 30, they were twelve years apart. Growing up with no siblings, I had an admiration for there relationship. Especially since the trend of treating siblings poorly was so popular, and Pete never followed that with his brother. I wake up as soon as the sun rises and put on a pot of coffee. Waking up with security guards surrounding you is quite the alarming experience, but being safe is worth it. I get a phone call from James and answer it. "I just heard what happened, are you okay? Is Peter okay?!" "No. Neither one of us are okay, but right now he's in so much pain and I'm just trying to make it through." "Tell him I'm sorry for his loss. Are you safe Rebecca?" He asks, with caution in his voice. "Yes. Well, I think I am. How is everything going down there? Anything new?" "No, just the random naked guy down the street, and the odd drug cases. Nothing major. No turn of events, nothing close to what's going on down there." He responds, thankfully. "Good, I'm glad. I'll talk to you soon." "Bye Becc. Stay safe." We hang up. Peter's boss calls his phone and I can't help but answer. "Pete, how are you?" I tell him it's me, and explain the incident. "Oh my god, this is insane. Do me a favor Rebecca." "Yes, anything." "Stay by his side. Don't leave him until you know he's okay." "I wasn't planning on doing anything else but that sir." When he wakes up, he comes over and puts his arms around me. Through the craziness, I feel safer in his arms than with these guards surrounding me. I'm not going to ask if he's okay, because I know he isn't. His brother just died and I have to be aware of that. "The pain won't go away." He says, crying. "It doesn't have to. It won't go away. It won't ever go away. But, you have to make it through. For him." "I know." He sobs. "Do you want to eat?" I ask. "I just need water." After he drinks, he takes a shower. As odd as it may sound, I'm more concerned for his well-being than anyone else's. Right now, I'm not consumed with the murders. I'm more consumed with the thought of if he'll make it through today. He comes out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. I can't help but stare, and even when I see him recognize my action, I continue to do it. "Can I lay with you?" He asks. "Of course." He doesn't bother to get dressed, just wraps the towel tighter around him, and comes into the bed. His arm wraps around me and I stare at him. There's a need for one another, I could feel it between us. Breaking the silence I blurt out, "I think I should get a gun." "There's one under the bed for you." "Oh. I didn't know that." I laugh a little. "Yeah. Me neither until I was looking for my phone and got a very clear warning." He jokes. His strength amazes me in such a rough time. It's the next day, when I get the phone call from my father, I'm heartbroken. The word heartbroken doesn't describe the amount of pain I felt. "Rebecca." "Yes? What's wrong?" I ask. "Sit down for this." I do as he says, and sit on a chair. "It's Carlee. She's been, she's been killed." I drop my phone and my body falls to the floor. I feel nothing. I feel numb. "Carlee. She's been killed." Keeps replaying in my mind. The tears stream down my face and I become outraged. Something inside me says that this is connected to the case. I feel a knot in my stomach and my nerves make me throw up on the floor. Pete grabs the phone and speaks to my dad. Carlee was my best-friend. She was the sister I never had. The person I grew up with. The person I went to for uplifting, the person who supported me, the person I adored. She was there for me at my darkest times. There for me through every bad moment, and she celebrated every good moment with me. Remembering the memories tears my heart into pieces. Her jokes and sarcasm was always so amazing. Her comforting sense of humor was the thing I loved most about her. No matter what I was going through, she could always make me go into a laughing fit. I can't believe she's gone. She's gone forever. I have no ability to talk to her or to hug her. I have no more time of knowing her. A world without my best-friend is a world I don't want to live in. I don't feel my body as Peter lifts me up and puts me into bed. I do feel the pain so intensely that my chest hurts and my mind starts throbbing. I look up at the ivory white ceiling, and everything goes black as I fall asleep. In the morning, for a few seconds, I don't remember anything. It's when it hits me that Carlee is dead, that I begin to sob. Noticing that Peter is nowhere to be found, I get up and ask one of the guards where he went. "He went down to the lobby to get some food." "Did he go with a guard?" I ask. When he answers "Yes." I'm relieved. But walking down into the lobby, seeing the caution tape, I become fearful. Looking past the caution tape, I see the security guard, shot in the chest, dead. I look for Dennis and finally when I find him, run over to where he's standing. "Where's Peter?" I ask, hyperventilating. "He's gone." He says. "What do you mean he's gone?" I scream. "He's been kidnapped." "No! No no no this can't be happening." I fall to my knees and see myself crying. It's an out of body experience I can't describe.
The pain I felt here, was a level of pain I thought one could only feel once in there lifetime. But looking back, I see how stupid of a thought that was. Simply because, the upcoming situations that would take place, would become a repetitive, never ending cycle of absolute disaster that I couldn't have possibly been ready for. No one could have.