Chapter 143
Rose ran across the motel parking lot, her mind racing faster than her feet. The worn soles of her expensive shoes slapped against cracked asphalt as panic clawed at her chest. Herod was going to tell the FBI everything. Her plan, her revenge, her future, all of it would crumble if he talked.
She reached her car, not her car, really, but one of Herod’s cars. Her hands shook ashe fumbled with the keys. The recorder. The damned recorder he’d shown her. How long had he been recording their conversations? What exactly had she said?
Rose stopped, the key halfway to the lock.
She couldn’t run. Not yet. Not while Herod sat in that motel room with a phone pressed to his ear, her name on his lips, and evidence of her crimes in his pocket.
In the distance, sirens wailed. Still far away, but coming closer.
Rose looked back at Room 17, its faded blue door visible from where she stood. Behind that door sat the man who could destroy everything she’d built. Everything she’d sacrificed for.
If he talked, it was over.
If he lived, she was finished.
Rose reached into her bag, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal of the gun she’d bought from one of Anton Bessonov’s men. She’d never fired it. Had never planned to. It was just insurance, protection against the rough types she had to deal with for their plan.
Now it was her only option.
The weight of the weapon felt strange in her hand as she pulled it from her bag. She’d watched enough movies to know how to hold it, how to aim. But the reality of it, the solid heaviness of death in her palm, made her stomach turn.
Rose didn’t allow herself to hesitate. Hesitation was for weak people. For people like Camille, always looking for someone else to make decisions for her. Rose wasn’t weak. She’d proven that time and again.
The sirens grew louder. Minutes, maybe seconds before they arrived.
She walked back toward Room 17, each step steady despite the storm inside her mind. All those years fighting to escape the foster system. All those years pretending to be the perfect adopted daughter. All those years watching Camille get everything Rose deserved.
She wouldn’t let Herod take it all away. Not now. Not when she was so close to winning.
Outside Room 17, Rose paused, listening. Through the thin door, she could hear Herod’s voice, the words unclear but the tone unmistakable. He was telling them. Giving them details. Betraying her.
Rose raised the gun, aimed at the door, and pulled the trigger.
The explosion of sound shocked her. The gun jumped in her hand, the recoil stronger than she expected. A hole appeared in the cheap wooden door.
Inside, Herod’s voice stopped.
Not enough. She couldn’t be sure. She fired again. And again. Three holes now punctured the door, forming a rough triangle.
Silence from inside the room.
Rose stepped closer, pressed her ear to the door. Nothing. Not even movement.
Had she hit him? Was he dead? Wounded?
She had to know. Had to be sure.
With her left hand, Rose turned the doorknob slowly. The door swung open with a creak.
Herod lay on the floor near the bed, the phone fallen from his hand. Blood spread across his chest, staining his white shirt with expanding circles of red. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, his mouth moving slightly as if trying to form words.
“Rose,” he managed, the name barely audible.
Successfully unlocked!
She stepped into the room, the gun still raised. You should we betrayed me,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
“They’ll… know…” His words came between shallow breaths.
“They’ll know nothing,” Rose replied. “By the time they find you, I’ll be gone. And if they come after me, I’ll tell them you were obsessed with me. That you forced me to help you. That I was afraid for my life.”
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Chapter 143
Herod’s eyes found hers, filled with a clarity that unnerved her. Even dying, he saw through her. They
wt bebevey “They always believe me, Herod.” Rose’s finger tightened on the trigger again. “Everyone always does fmvery convers He tried to reach for the phone that had skittered across the floor. Rose stepped on his hand, grinding it under her hed he gasped in pain.
“Where’s the recorder?” she demanded.
Herod’s eyes closed briefly, then opened again. The ghost of a smile touched his lips “Gone
“Don’t lie to me.” Rose knelt beside him, keeping the gun aimed at his head while her free hand searched his pockets. Nothing. “Where is it?”
“Safe.” Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth. “Evidence… against you.”
Panic surged through Rose again. The sirens were closer now, maybe only blocks away. “Tell me where it is, or 13 make your last moments very painful.”
Herod’s breathing had grown more labored. Each word seemed to cost him tremendous effort. “You can’t hurt me anymore.”
Rose stood, aiming the gun directly at his face. “Last chance. Where’s the recorder?”
“With… someone… who’ll know… what to do…” Herod’s voice faded to a whisper. “Charles… would be… proud
Rage exploded in Rose’s chest. Even dying, Herod defied her. Even with a gun pointed at his face, he wouldn’t give her what she wanted.
She fired once more, the bullet striking the floor beside Herod’s head. Not a kill shot, but enough to make her point. This isn’t over,” she hissed, then turned and ran for the bathroom window.
The FBI would be watching airports, train stations, bus terminals. They’d have her photo, her description. But Rose Lewis had disappeared before. Had become someone new. She could do it again.
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