Fatal Attraction (Love Kills Duet #2)

37. Thirty Seven

Thirty Seven

Perry

I rushed around my house first thing when I got back, grabbing as many suitcases as I could and throwing whatever the hell I could get my hands on clothes wise inside of them. Not only was I a goddamned fool to believe Charlotte would truly keep my identity a secret, but to make matters worse, Carter was awake. I’d made an anonymous call on the way to the hospital, and the nurse I’d spoken with had no problem whatsoever filling me in on Carter’s condition.

Everything had fallen apart. I’d wasted so much time lying low and marveling over my victory, that I’d completely forgotten about Carter. He saw my face that night, had hit me with a lethal jab that almost ripped my head off my shoulders and had knocked the deer mask clean off my face. My body count was catastrophically high with Blaire, those two stupid as fuck police officers, and at the time, I still had Felix to handle. I didn’t want to add another murder onto my already despicable record, so I took pity on Carter and instead of shooting him in the head, I’d beaten him unconscious and stomped his head into the floor until I was certain he’d have brain damage and wouldn’t remember anything.

Yeah, well, so much for fucking that.

There was still a chance he didn’t remember but just in case he did—and now with Charlotte in the hospital thanks to my recklessness—I had to get the fuck out of here. It was only a matter of time before the police got here. Running was the only option.

“PERRY! ”

I ignored Peter in the other room and finished packing the first two suitcases. When I was done with the final two, I quickly hauled them up and deposited them by the front door before scurrying inside the room with Peter. He was right where I left him, on the floor with his hands and legs still bound to the broken chair, his mouth and nose covered in dried blood. Without breathing a word, I tugged Charlotte’s gun free from under my belt and checked the rounds, cocking it.

A tear rolled down my cheek, and another followed the longer I stared at him. I loved Peter. I truly did. He was my family, the last I had left since both of our parents and grandparents were gone. He was the only person who knew me best and would undoubtedly help the police find me once I escaped. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it had to be done.

“You’re never going to get away with this,” he said with promise, showing no fear as I settled my aim on his forehead. “Kill me if you want, but it won’t make a difference. Detective Hutch and Rhodes will still find you—”

I pulled the trigger, watching as the bullet punctured his forehead, splattering his brains all over the floor. His eyes were still open, and his head fell to the side in a weak thud. Blood pooled out beneath the wound.

I fell to my knees and began to weep.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to his body. “I’m so sorry.”

My body shook as I got to my feet and wiped my tears away, hating how everything was crumbling beneath my feet. Then my head jerked hard to the side at what sounded like sirens wailing in the distance.

“FUCK!”

They found me!

I raced out the room and grabbed two of my bags, running like a madman out to the car. After depositing them in the trunk and loading the last of everything up, I got in and took off. Police cars began pulling in one by one before I could ever make it halfway down the driveway.

They veered off in a tactical formation, trying to surround me .

“I don’t fucking think so!”

I gunned the gas and plowed through two cruisers, watching with a pleased smirk on my face through the rearview mirror as they spun, one of them flipping from the impact. That was an idiot fucking thing to do because the next thing I knew, I was hit head on by another cop. My head smacked violently hard against the steering wheel as the airbag deployed, working gruesomely well with the seatbelt to keep me pinned.

A groan escaped my mouth as I struggled getting the belt off of me, and I cursed when the door refused to open. There was a pocketknife in my center console, so as fast as fucking possible, I grabbed it and cut myself loose, having no choice but to painfully climb over to the passenger side to escape.

“Percious Welch,” a random voice blared through an intercom before I could fully get myself out.

Panic settled in as more cruisers piled in one after the other, leaving me completely surrounded.

“You’re under arrest!”