Arabella James is a die-hard romantic. She believes in the fairytales about the knight in shining armor who will sweep her off her feet. Despite having lost her mother at a young age, and basically left at her aunt's doorstep by her step-mother, Bel...
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"Good night, chief."
"Good night, detective. Get home safe."
"You know it." She swiped her keys off the desk, picked up her jacket from the back of her chair, and made her way out of the precinct. Before she stepped foot into the elevator she cross-checked if she had all her belongings. Wallet-check. Phone-dead but check. House keys-double check. Stepping onto the sidewalk, the chilly wind hit her face and she involuntarily shivered. Shrugging her jacket on, she noticed the lack of cabs on the street. Dammit, she would have to walk four blocks till the big intersection to catch a ride home now.
As she started to make her way to her destination, her thoughts went back to the case that had been keeping her up at night. Maurice Whitman was a well-known name in the business world. One of the most successful men in the country, Whitman was a man with who had fingers in all the pots; from real estate to being a shareholder of 'Dianna Whitman' one of the most exclusive jewelry brands in the world and the co-owner of BLR Armstech, along with his daughter Blair Whitman, he was a man the whole world knew.
But what made Whitman interesting was not his sparkling image and his successful life; it was what lay underneath it all. According to her informants, there were rumors that he also ran one of the biggest cocaine rings in the country. She had been heading the investigation for months now and she had finally found a lead. One of her contacts would be bringing in a witness to the precinct tomorrow. He had, apparently, caught an exchange happening on the docks after hours and had seen Whitman's face, recognizing him from the magazines.
She looked up as she passed by a bar and saw a line of people waiting to get in, as well as some partiers who were already so drunk that they could barely walk out of the door. A group of friends stood on the sidewalk with their arms around each other's shoulders as they sang some gibberish drunken song and then broke out into hysterical laughter. The small smile on her face dropped as she made eye contact with a man standing at the end of the line, leaning against the wall with a cigarette between his lips just watching her pass by. She zipped up her jacket and reached into the pocket of her pants for her phone before remembering that it had died. Fuck. Next, her hand slipped below her jacket to her belt and the holster attached to it. Trying to walk faster, she subtly tried to look back and noticed the man straightening up and beginning to follow her.
She turned back around and kept up her brisk pace while trying to removing the gun from the holster. Before she could make a move, a hand shot out from the alleyway next to her, grabbed her by the sleeve of her jacket and pulled her roughly. A man pressed her front against the wall with her hand outstretched to the side and hit her wrist to the wall repeatedly till she could no longer hold onto the pistol and it fell from her grasp. She pushed her hips back in an attempt to throw him off and managed to give herself enough space to butt the back of her head into their nose. The hands around her quickly fell away as she turned around only to see that the man following her from the club had caught up and was running towards her. He tackled her onto the ground and her head hit the asphalt violently. Her vision blurred and a loud ringing sounded in her ears. Disoriented, she tried to struggle against the man but he grabbed her by the scruff of her shirt and pulled her up. The pounding in her head intensified and bile rose up her throat and she puked on the man's T-shirt. She heard him curse, but it sounded muffled because of the sound in her ears. She stumbled into the wall and leaned against it trying to stay upright and saw a blurry figure in front of her retrieve something from his coat and point it at her.
"You shouldn't meddle in business that does not concern you, Lady. Now look at what you are making me do", she heard him say in a gruff voice before three loud shots rang out and she felt a sharp pain in her torso. She looked down and touched her jacket; her hand came away dripping in red. Her legs gave away under her and her head hit the ground again. As she started to lose consciousness a name flashed in her mind. Adam.
___
A jolt of panic filled his chest as he sat in his cabin, typing up yet another one of his reports. He instantly knew that this wasn't one of his emotions. His chair hit the wall behind him due to the force with which he got up, he grabbed his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart, only for it to go straight to voice mail. He kept calling but in vain. Picking up the car keys from his drawer, he ran out of his office and down the stairs. I don't have the time to wait for elevators.
He ran down a few dozen flights of stairs before he reached the ground floor. Just as he reached for the handle of the lobby door, intense pain built up in his torso that brought him to his knees. He tried to push himself to stand but felt a painful sensation throughout his body; as if someone were trying to rip his soul from his body.
He knew the instant the bond dissolved.
"NO!" he wailed in despair, tears streaming down his face. "ROSE!" He grabbed his chest and sunk down onto the floor and wept.
