I stumble back, unable to go any farther until Derek drops Flynn’s limp body and sets his sights on me. I leg it down the corridor, running as fast as I can as footsteps pound behind me.
“There’s no way out, Hazel. All the doors are locked.” Derek’s voice follows me down the corridor and I run faster.
My chest seizes. A stitch jabs vicious claws into my side, but I keep running. The footsteps chasing me get louder and I risk a glance over my shoulder to find Derek gaining on me.
Up ahead the corridor takes a sharp turn to the right. If I can get there first, maybe I can duck into a room before he sees. I ignore the burn in my calves, pure fear pushing me forward as I sprint around the corner… straight into the arms of the senator.
I don’t even have a chance to fight him. He catches my flailing body, his large hand splaying around my neck. My hands fly to his wrist, gripping tight as he lifts me by the throat and holds me against the wall.
His fingers dig into my neck, cutting off my air enough that my eyes bulge. It’s not like with Flynn, when he collars me and I feel safe, owned. The only thing I’m feeling right now, as Derek saunters around the corner to join us, is pure, unadulterated terror.
Think, Hazel, think.My hands slip from Claren’s wrist, and the back of my arm knocks against something hard.The pen knife. I slip my hand into my hoodie pocket, my fingers curling around the wooden handle.
Keeping my eyes on Claren, I flip the knife open and pull my arm back but Derek rushes forward, slamming my wrist against the wall so hard I cry out and the knife drops from my fingers, clattering to the floor.
The senator looks down at the knife then back up at me. He tightens his grip then smiles like he’s feeding off the power. “Oh, I do like it when they fight.” His free hand comes up to tuck my hair behind my ear. The gentle touch slimes through me as my vision darkens. “Such a shame our dance was cut short, Miss Halloway. I am so looking forward to… tangling with you once more.”
His grip on my throat loosens and I get one second to suck in air before he slams my head against the wall and everything goes dark.
35
DETECTIVE DOUCHE
Hazel
I thinktequila broke my head but that doesn’t make much sense because I’m pretty sure I didn’t drink anything. I screw up my face, wincing as my hand finds a nasty lump on the back of my skull.
I hiss and pull my hand away, my palms pressing against thin, hard carpet as I struggle to sit up.
A firm hand curls around my bicep. “Easy Hazel, you’re probably concussed.”
I panic at Derek’s voice, pain shooting through my skull as I scramble away from him and back up against the wall. Light pierces my eyes and my breathing comes fast.
I scan the room, taking in the small office with its metal desk and filing cabinets before my shaky gaze lands back on Derek.
He’s crouched in front of me, his shirt sleeves rolled up above his elbows as his arms rest on his thighs.
“What the fuck are you doing, Derek?” I ask, some part of my brain still not understanding that Derek is one of the bad guys. That he’s working with the senator.
Derek sighs and rubs a hand over his beard. “It didn’t have to be like this.” Regret glimmers in his eyes and I think for a moment that maybe the Derek I know might still be there.
“So let me go,” I say, my gaze darting to the closed door behind him. “The senator, he’s not a good man. You saw what he did to me.”
“You didn’t give him a choice.” Derek shakes his head and stands up. “We could have been something good, you and I, but you had to go and get involved with the Vigilante Choker.” He cuts me a scolding look. “I mean seriously Hazel, a serial killer?”
My mouth drops open. “I really don’t think you get to judge,” I say. “What with you being a corrupt cop and all.”
Derek tsks, a wry smile twisting the good guy face I’m used to seeing. “You’ve been spending too much time with Wright, she’s making you bratty.”
I tilt up my chin, trying to find a bravery I don’t feel. “How do you know this isn’t just me?”
Derek chuckles and steps towards me. “Because I know you, Hazel.” He smiles and rests the toe of his foot on my shin. “And you’re a good girl. Which is why you’re going to tell me what I want to know.”
He presses down on my shin. Not enough to hurt, just enough that I can’t move my leg.
I wet my lips but hold my ground. “Yeah, I wouldn’t bet on it.”
He pushes down harder, the sole of his shoe cutting into my leg. I curl my fingers against the thin carpet and grit my teeth.