𝗣 𝗬 𝗥 𝗢 𝗠 𝗔 𝗡 𝗜 𝗔 | BOOK THREE

T W E N T Y - F I V E

[graham eaton]

I stare at the painting--the studio, of course. He took her to the most obvious place, knowing I might overthink it. A knock at the door stops my heart. I reach for my concealed carry on and remove it slowly from my waist band, approaching the door. The door knob jiggles and I pull the hammer back of the handgun, watching closely. If he can get in here once, I have no doubt he can get in a second time too. A click sounds from the lock and the door swings open. I raise the handgun quickly, aiming at whoever walks into my apartment.

"Stop right there--" I say, my words falling short.

Jerry, my landlord, stands in my doorway, his keys in his hand, his hands raised high above his head. His pasty white face is red as a cherry now, his eyes watery as if he fears for his life--he should. If he were 'James', he'd be dead, a bullet in between his eyes long before he could make a sound. But James is too smart to come in through the front door. 

"Holy shit, Jerry. I am so sorry," I say, pushing the hammer back into its place and slide the gun into my waist band. "I thought you were someone who was trying to break in."

He exhales, his face slowly turning to a shade of pink before returning to it's original shade of paper-white. 

"I... I was just coming in to see if you had my ladder. You never returned it." He says. "But I see you might be more occupied than I had originally thought. I can come back for it later."

I shake my head and grab his arm to try and make him stay.

"Jerry, wait, please. I can find it, I'm sorry, really. My brother... He's in the hospital. He sustained a pretty serious injury and I've been in the hospital with him. Let me go grab that ladder." I say.

I step away into my bedroom where the ladder leans against my closet door. I grab it and carry it out to him. He approaches the wall of spray paint and stares at it with concern.

"What is happening Graham? I saw the bedroom down the hall and I'm a little concerned. You need to tell me what's going on, right now." He says.

I exhale and nod, leaning the ladder against the wall.

"Have you been following the news lately? Like about Ghost, the pyromaniac? If you have, Ghost has been manipulating me and burning down buildings that mean something to my family or to Jolene Hale, the woman who moved in with me. Yesterday, a huge fire took my attention away from Jolene and Ghost got her. He's holding her hostage somewhere and I need to go find him. He broke in and vandalized the apartment. I will repaint the walls and everything as soon as I find Jolene. I promise. I just have to go and find her before he kills her too." I say.

He exhales and nods, grabbing the ladder.

"As vague as they story may be, I also don't doubt that it is 100% true. Do whatever you have to do. I'll pay for the paint as long as you do the painting itself." He says.

I smile and nod, thanking him. I help him out of the apartment and run to my bike. I start the engine and pull out of my parking space, awake and ready, thirsty for blood. Ghost may have landed the first blow and drawn first blood, but he forgot that he's messing with a southpaw. He thinks I'm going swing with my right and right when he isn't looking, my left will shoot up and knock him down.

[tobias eaton]

I watch as Beatrice sleeps at the edge of Atticus's bed, watching over him carefully, jotting down every fluctuation in his SATS, Heart rate, Blood Pressure, blood panels, near monitoring, and any other changes he might have. It's good to have a Doctor for a wife, but also terrifying because I know her. I know what every facial expression means and how severe something is without her ever having to open her mouth to tell me. One eyebrow raised means something has changed and she's curious. Two eyebrows raised gently means something is definitely wrong and she wants to figure out what. Both eyebrows raised enough to create a wrinkle in her forehead means something is wrong and she knows what it means. Wrinkle in forehead plus frown means bad news. Frown plus crying means really bad news. Crying enough to distort any facial expressions means devastating news with little to no chance of good news to follow. Atticus's monitor beeps and Tris sits upright, awake, as if she just got ten-plus hours, and two cups of coffee. She looks at Atticus's monitor and raises one eyebrow. I look at the monitor, wondering what possibly could've changed. She opens her notepad and flips through the numerous pages of notes all about Atticus. She gets to the red tab--Cardiac--and writes down the change, date, and time. She flips to the blue tab--Pulmonary--and writes down the same information.

"What changed now?" I ask.

She stands and approaches the door.

"He's has recurrent tachycardia, tachypnea, and dyspnea. I know that I'm not supposed to be his doctor but, instead, his mother, but I think he has a PE. I'm going to call Justin and David in just in case." She says. "Please don't hate me for being observant. I just... I can't lose him, not after all that has happened to you."

I nod, smiling at her sadly.

"I don't, Tris. I understand. Go, I'll stay with him." I say.

She smiles, a smile without joy, but a smile of trust, and exits the room, walking into the hallway.