Surviving Brooklyn (Brooklyn Series Book 1) (8 page)

There was the guilt. It came up and slapped me in the face. I never meant for anyone to get into that much trouble. I just wanted five minutes of freedom.

“This was my fault, not theirs. Tell me how to help them.” I pleaded with the friend in Mark, hoping the detective in him didn’t have any control in this.

“You helped them by getting them suspended. They both knew better than to take orders from anyone except their direct supervisor.”

Another wave of guilt pierced my stomach and I felt sick. I was thinking about myself and my feelings, using others for my own gain without considering the impact it would have on their families. I would have to make it a point to have Mark take me over to their houses to apologize.

“Brooklyn, where did the flowers come from?” Mark asked, pulling me back from my own thoughts.

“He threw them in the elevator.” I yawned.

“Was he wearing gloves?” Mark asked in an urgent rush.

“No, I don’t think so.” I remembered his hands from the coin but could not place if he was wearing gloves or not. I yawned again. I didn’t think coffee would help at this point. I was so exhausted.

“Brooklyn, I am going to drop you off at the hotel and get you into bed.”

My eyebrows raised on that statement.

“Not for that, although I would never say no to that. What I mean is…”

I was finding humor in the way he tripped over his words because he was worried how I would take them.

“Brooklyn, you need to get some sleep. I need to go and see if they found anything. Hopefully, he left a print for us to follow. I am putting more officers in and outside your room. One will come and take your statement and one will come to get a description. I will call you and we will do dinner and talk.”

I realized I had not told him about my phone, and looked down at my feet.

“What?” Mark asked.

“I gave my phone to a little kid when you wouldn’t stop calling.”

Mark laughed a little. I don’t know what was so humorous, but something I had done was funny.

“What?” I asked.

“If he tracked you here the same way we did, he will be tracking a little kid for a while.”

My face fell as I thought about what that might mean for the little kid’s fate. I had never seen the guy before, so thinking he might be related to my dad’s organization might have been wrong. I wanted to find him and stop him before he hurt someone’s child.

“Brooklyn, I will call Kate and she will bring you a temporary phone. We can work it out while you get some sleep. No reason to look so down,” Mark said as we neared the bottom floor.

“The kid had my eyes,” I murmured, and Mark’s face fell. He had the same thought I did.

He pulled out his phone and shouted orders into it to track my phone and get it from the child. I had turned on airplane mode, so maybe it wouldn’t be traceable anymore. Every horrendous thought that could have entered my mind did at that moment. 

Upon exiting the building, I saw Mark’s Escalade parked out front with the police lights flashing in the front and back. I piled into the passenger seat and waited as he made what seemed like a hundred phone calls. He was so invested in this case. I would have to set aside my broken heart and feelings for Mark, or I would have to step down and let him work with someone else.

It wouldn’t be fair to continue torturing myself with little sexual escapades that made me fall deeper in love with him. I couldn’t continue to show him how much it hurt that he didn’t see me that way. We needed to be able to hit a rewind button and go back to before I had ever admitted anything.

By the time we arrived at the hotel, the place was swarming with officers. They were not all in uniform, but the plainclothes detectives were carrying themselves in a demeanor I commonly saw in Mark. My boss was there, talking to Mark.

The next events flew by in a blur of exhaustion. One officer drew the suspect, another officer took a statement, and even my boss had a few choice words for my behavior, but he still would not let me step down. I climbed in the bed and drifted fast asleep while my boss was lecturing me.

Chapter 8

                     
 
Dreaming

Darkness was all around me. Back in the same eerie hallway looking for the red door. I knew what would happen if I didn’t get to the red door, because it had all happened before.

Click clack
—my heels were making the noise across the white marble floors. Walking through the darkness to find a door, my anxiety levels rose with each step.

Five doors down in the hallway, I heard a groan. Looking around to determine where the sound came from, I realized I could not go back. The floor and hallway behind me had disappeared. If I were to step back, I would fall into the darkness.

“Brook.”

I heard someone call out my name in the dark. It was a man, and there was a pained groan.

“Who’s there?” I called out. Taking a few steps forward, I heard the voice again.

“Brook.”

I didn’t want to go through any of the mahogany doors. I was confident those doors would take me back to meet the devil himself.

I started running, trying to find the familiar voice in the darkness.

“Brook,” the voice called out again, this time with a cough as if gasping for air to breathe.

“Where are you?” I screamed back. Do I dare to open one of the mahogany doors?

Click clack, click clack
—I froze. Those were not my heels on the floor making that noise. Panic escaped my lips with a shivered attempt to hold my breath. This couldn’t be happening again. I listened for the groan and did my best to tune out the sounds of feet coming near.

The man’s groan made him sound as if he were in absolute agony.
Please
, I silently begged to God or the universe. Whoever kept bringing me back to this place was showing little mercy. I had a choice as the footsteps grew closer. I could run and leave the man behind, or find him and risk going back to the one hundred and eighty-seventh floor.

I could never turn my back on someone. It wasn’t in my DNA; I couldn’t live with myself knowing I could have done something to help and refused. There was no way I would leave this man behind. I just needed to find him and get the hell out of there.

I heard the voice again. I had run too far as the voice was groaning behind me now. Fear took hold, as I made an instinctive decision to turn back. The non-existent floor in the darkness seemed to return as I stepped to go back the way I’d come. When the floor returned, it was no longer the pretty white marble floor. The floor was blood red and the walls had turned to a burnt orange color. The doors had turned black in protest. It was the most horrible color array I had ever seen. Regardless of the difference, I knew what I had to do. I went from door to door, calling out. 

I didn’t dare turn the knobs. Keeping my hand on a knob, I heard the groan from behind the door. The voice was begging for me to come to him. Then out of the corner of my eye in the darkness, a shadowy figure moved. The shadow slowed as it neared, the clicking of the heels slowing as well. This shadow had been what was chasing me.

Emerging from the darkness was the woman I had tried to save before. She was wearing the same clothing. I recognized her green eyes and long blond hair. It was a relief, as I was no longer afraid. Instead, I was overwhelmed with sorrow for this woman. I kept my hand on the knob while the woman began to walk past me.

“Brookie, where are you?” The man’s voice called out.

The pained groan said he was right behind the door. The woman stopped and turned back.

“Come save me, Brooklyn.”

I was torn. I knew the man behind the door was strained for my help, but I also knew this woman needed me as well.

“Stay here with me,” I implored her. A small smile slid across her face.

“Only you can save me,” the woman said.

“Please, stay here with me. Let me help you.” At this point, I was begging.

“Brookie, come back to me,” the man’s voice called out. I suddenly felt torn in two.

I wanted to run to the  voice behind the door to seek safety. And I wanted to stay and help this woman. Though the cost was high, I felt responsible for not stopping the devil the first time. Facing reality and being a grown-up sucked. I would have paid for someone else to choose which decision was right. Maybe I could save her and help him.

The blond woman looked over her shoulder as her body shuddered with fear. A large creature came walking out of the darkness. It was him. He wasn't a dragon this time. Instead, he had taken the shape of a lion.

One tilt of the head said he knew I was there. Even with that knowledge, he didn’t alter his course as he slinked near us. Without a second thought, I put myself between him and the blond.

His golden mane was flawless. He was beautiful yet dangerous, and his predatory face and eyes of coal never blinked from the target. I tightened my grip on the doorknob, holding my other arm up to keep the blond behind me.

I was preparing myself for the fight of my life when I heard the man's voice from behind the door.

“Brookie, please come back to me. I can’t live without you. Please.”

I heard the terror in the voice behind the door but stood paralyzed in front of this creature which seemed to be growing larger with each step.

As he came upon me, he crouched down. I held my breath as I took a moment to swallow my fears and study him. He looked like a lion, but when I viewed him from the side, I noticed the skulls that made him into a dragon earlier were now in his stomach. In this shape, the souls were floating around as if they were screaming to get out. I was able to make out several faces from the case we had been working on.

My hand tightened on the doorknob as I heard the man sobbing. Still begging me to come through the door. I decided I would probably be safer if I walked away from the woman. But how could I walk away from someone in need?

The man’s voice behind the door had a calming effect on me even in the face of the devil himself. As soothing as the voice was, it wasn’t helping me find a way out of the situation.

What would stop the lion from coming through that door with us? He was enormous and could do and be whatever he wanted. I wanted to save at least one person if I could. I turned the knob quietly behind me. The lion laughed again.

“You shouldn’t run from me,” he warned. “But I do enjoy this game of chasing you.” He spoke as if he knew what I was thinking.

I listened to the man’s voice behind the door begging me to come back to him. The voice gave me confidence despite the situation I was in.

In one quick move, I opened the door and flung myself back, pulling the blond with me. The lion grabbed her right leg and began pulling her out into the hallway. I held her hands and tried to pull her back. The lion was strong and dragged us both back into the hallway. The blond was screaming, and I was fighting to hold onto to her with everything I had. She let go of my hands, and I could no longer hold her as she went flying out toward the lion. Sounds of screaming pierced the air as if the walls couldn’t take the noise and bounced it around until it was absorbed by my ears. It was too late for her, and she was being ripped apart.

Instincts kicked in and I got to my feet and lunged toward the door to shut him out. Once the door was shut, I slumped down behind it and cried into my hands. I had to apply extra force, planting my feet so my body was against the door, hoping it would keep him out. After I composed myself and heard nothing but silence for a few minutes, I went looking for the male voice.

“Mark,” I called out.

“I’m here, Brookie,” he called back. I walked all around the room. There was nothing but darkness and the elevator. Refusing to get in the elevator, I did laps looking for him. The door flew open and there was the demon himself in the shape of a lion.

“I’ve waited long enough for you to play along. You are mine,” he said in a predatory voice. He began to move toward me, taunting me to run.

“Mark, help me, please,” I called out. As the lion grew closer, he swiped his claws at me and missed but it caused me to fall and hit my head.

“Brook, open your eyes,” Mark called back. The demon moved in for the kill, standing over me.

It was too late. I couldn’t help anyone. I failed to save anyone, even myself. I whispered,
I’m sorry
and
I love you
as the giant paw came down and cut me to shreds.

“Wake up, Brooklyn!” a voice called out. I felt something touch me and went flying into defensive mode. I started swinging before I realized I was in the hotel room hitting my boss. Oh hell, this wouldn’t end well.

“I’m sorry.” I immediately started apologizing as my heart rate slowed and the air chilled the sweat that was dripping off me.

My boss didn’t say anything so I got up and walked out of the bedroom, staring down the five officers who were talking amongst themselves. In the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face. These dreams only happened every once in a while, but it seemed they were trying to tell me something.

I walked back out to see pity on the faces of the officers. I looked down my body and saw I was still wearing my sweater and jeans. I must have screamed in my sleep or something. They all looked like they felt sorry for me.

I walked into my bedroom to see my boss already had ice on the side of his eye.

“I am so sorry, sir. I was having a bad dream and thought you were going to eat me.”

Taylor laughed as the words left my mouth. I’m sure I sounded odd, and I think I might’ve been bordering on sexual harassment just by saying it.

“I have been accused of many things, Ms. Montgomery, but I have never been punched in the head for wanting to eat someone.” Taylor winked.

Relief washed over me that he was not as angry as I thought he would be. I laughed with him and allowed the humiliation I was feeling run its course.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

“They found a lead. We came across a fingerprint. It gave us an eight-point match to a criminal. I already pulled a warrant, and Detective Stone is leading SWAT out to intercept the suspect and bring him in for questioning. I brought some photos of him I would like you to look at.”

I released the breath I had been holding since he said Mark was leading SWAT. Those guys knew what they were doing, but it didn’t stop the unease I felt about the entire situation.

I kept thinking nothing bad could happen because too much had been left unsaid. Mark and I still had to get our friendship back to what it should have been all along.

I watched as Taylor pulled out a file out of a briefcase that was sitting beside the bed. Another powder blue folder with the words
Cut-Me-Not
written across the tab. My hands shook as I took it from him.

I opened it and read the previous reports. Arson, murder, rape, distribution, and even assaulting an officer with evading arrest. This guy had been charged with a whole list of things but had never spent more than a few hours in jail. It didn’t seem right.

I detested people like him. They committed heinous acts and never had to pay the penalty. Even when our system couldn’t put the needle of death in their arm, I expected karma to handle it; but most days, it seemed like karma forgot the ones who needed to be dealt with the most.

I scrolled through the statements from the victims. It seemed like him when I came to the rape complaint. He had taken his time to carve a flower into the small of her back. I flinched when I envisioned the pain she would have endured.

Then I flipped to the photos. The first one was black and white and looked nothing like him. The second one was even worse. How were these pictures of the same person? They had the same fingerprints, but he must be the master of disguise because I didn’t recognize any of them.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, handing the folder back to Taylor. I shook my head to let him know that it wasn’t any of them. He looked confused, glancing at the pictures himself. I saw the confusion on his face that matched mine. How could these pictures be of the same person?

There were case file numbers attached to each picture. Taylor walked out into the living area and used my laptop to pull the case file numbers. Each picture was a different guy. Someone had been able to get into the system and put them together with a fingerprint, which meant Mark and SWAT would come back empty-handed or with the wrong suspect.