Thanks so much to HopelessRomantic1994, mozzi-girl and DizzyRedhead for the reviews!
I wake with a start the next morning at the sound of my cell phone, and it takes me a moment to register exactly where I was last night. I can see my gun on the floor, and a box and pill bottle on my bed; their contents strewn across the room. Ignoring my phone, I take a minute to put together the pieces.
"Oh…" I say quietly to myself as the memories start to trickle back.
To my surprise, as I pick up my phone, I feel totally normal. Not shaky or tired; even my headache is gone.
When I answer my phone I don't even get a chance to speak before Amy's familiar voice sounds out through the speaker. "Where are you?".
"What do you…?" I glance at the clock, noticing that I'm almost two hours late for work. "Dammit" I say under my breath. "Don't worry, I'm on my way".
"Just hurry! I've can't cover for you much longer!". Before I can even utter a word of thanks she hangs up, and as quickly as I can I change my clothes and get ready for work. I glance at the papers on my bed as I do, studying what appears to be the paperwork for a murder case.
One of the last things I do is gather the little yellow pills on the counter in my palm, hesitating for a moment before slipping them back in the bottle and into my jacket pocket. I won't use them unless it's necessary…I can find help later. I'll need my mind if I'm going to find Mal, and depriving myself of this is only going to make my mental state worse. But when this is over…I will find help.
I scoop the last few papers in my arm on my way out, hesitating before I head out the door. No matter what those pills do to me…I need to find Mal. Grabbing a black marker from one of the drawers in the kitchen, I roll up the sleeve on one of my arms, writing three large words across my forearm just in case.
'Save Mal Fallon'.
As I make my way across the bullpen to my desk, the lack of Mal's presence weighs down on me heavy as ever. I keep glancing over to the place where he used to sit, expecting him to make some sarcastic remark or to complain about paperwork. As I sit down, I keep thinking I'll feel him brush up against me as he passes.
There's a file on my desk, and to my surprise it's the same one I found in the box. Shawn couldn't be making his message more clear.
He wants me to kill whoever is in this file.
"You on your own again today?" I hear someone ask behind me. I turn to see Blaise watching me. Jeremy's waiting for her by the door; the two were clearly just heading out.
"Yeah…Mal's still…sick" I lie.
"Not really like him" she responds, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "He usually doesn't like to take off like that".
I'm spared from answering by Jeremy calling her name. She gives me one last narrow-gazed glance before taking off, her blonde ponytail bouncing behind her.
I let out a long breath of relief, grabbing the second file off my desk before heading outside to where I parked Mal's car. That was way too close.
I glance at the file one last time, not bothering to look at the name this time. It's appears to be about a man who doesn't live too far from here. Suspect to a hit-and-run the other night, killing a nine-year-old boy.
My knuckles are white on the steering wheel as I take off down the street. I take a quick glance at the scrawny man in the photo as I take a few turns and end up on his street, my eyes immediately locking on a man with his features about to climb into his car. My eyes dart down to the dented bumper, and by the time they're back on him I can see panic in his eyes. He practically throws himself in his car, taking off down the street at a dangerous speed. I follow behind him, only going fast enough that I don't lose him.
As soon as he gets the chance he gets on the nearest highway, darting between the other cars as I follow behind him. As the highway clears up I press harder and harder on the gas, knowing I won't be able to go this fast for long without crashing. Bracing myself, I get right behind him, flooring the gas and ramming right into his bumper.
I'm practically sucked back into my seat as my car jerks underneath me, spinning and skidding across the street. I grab the steering wheel as hard as I can, trying desperately to gain control of the vehicle. My heart roars in my ears as the car jerks out from under me as it skids right off the side of the road, and my stomach drops as the ground is taken out from under me. I'm jerked around more times than I can count as the car rolls over, only saved by the seatbelt as the deafening gunshot-like sound of the airbag deploys. I throw my arms in front of my face, feeling my shoulder pop as the force of the airbag jars my shoulder. My head goes flying back, smacking into the headrest. A moment later, I feel something got trickles down my back.
It's over as quickly as it began. A deafening silence falls, and only after a moment do I open the eyes I hadn't realized I'd closed.
The first things I notice is the spiderweb of cracks running across my windshield. Luckily, other than the destroyed front part, the car seems to have protected me for the most part. Even so, I ache all over, as if every one of my bones have been jostled around too much.
I fumble at my buckle for a moment, waiting until it clicks before I push at my door as hard as I can. When it doesn't budge, I throw all my weight on it, trying again. It takes at least five painful tries to get it open, and when I do I fall into the glass-covered ground in a heap. Panting, I take a moment to get my bearings before I take my phone out with a shaking hand. I'm barely able to hold still enough to take a picture of the wrecked car beside me. I don't know if the man in the car is dead or not, and I know I won't be able to get up and check myself for a while, but it'll have to do.
As I wait for a response, I can't help but think of how mad Mal is going to be when he finds out I wrecked his car. He's never going to let me drive with him in the car again. I feel a smile creep up on my lips despite this, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to stifle it.
Wow I think I must have really hit my head hard.
My vision wavers as I pick myself up, and not far ahead I can see someone from the road running toward me.
"Hey! Are you alright?". It's a man, I think. I can't really tell, I can't seem to get my eyes to focus.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I glance down to see the incoming text. I have to practically hold my phone right up to my face to read it.
'GO HOME. NOW'
I stumble away from the man as fast as I can, holding my injured shoulder as I do.
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