55 - "I'm right here."

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Rhys

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Rhys

"Fucking asshole."

He's locked me in. Max has locked me in the back of his patrol car, knowing all too well what I would have done otherwise.

Despite knowing the result, I pull against the latch again, willing the door to open. I should have known he'd do this when I'd told him about the phone call with Lucas.

I'm momentarily blinded by the flashing lights of an ambulance pulling up. My stomach drops and I slam my shoulder against the door, grunting. "Fuck this," I growl.

I'm not just going to sit here whilst Cora and Lucas are somewhere in that house. I spot Officer Peterson with someone on the front lawn. Their hushed conversation halts when they look over at me, pathetically bashing my fist against the window.

"Oi!" I shout. "Open the damn door."

Officer Peterson walks towards the car. That dreary expression he always wears is prevalent tonight. "No can do, kid," he coughs. "This is a crime scene."

"My fucking best friend is in there! And my—my..."

I break off, my fist falling from the window as I watch two paramedics carrying someone out on a stretcher. My view is blocked by Officer Peterson, so I climb over the console, falling into the passenger seat. The bile rises up my throat as my heart hammers loudly inside my chest.

When I finally get an unrestricted view, it's Old Tom that I notice lying on the stretcher, eyes closed and a breathing mask covering his face. They wheel him into the back of the first ambulance. Another one pulls up promptly, two more paramedics pulling out another stretcher.

"What's going on, Peterson?" I shout through the bulletproof glass. "What the fuck is happening in there?"

He shakes his head, moving to lean against the bonnet as he stares back at me. "Sorry, kid. You know I can't tell you that."

"Cora called me!" I retort. "I just need to know that they're alright. That nothing has—"

Before I can finish, two paramedics carry out the next stretcher, carrying a blonde-haired boy this time. Lucas.

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