Page 55 of Devil's Work: Dark

My phone rings. It doesn’t typically ring this early. It’s a number I don’t recognize. It’s a Nashville number. I answer because even if it’s someone bad, I’m not far from Dark.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Ms. Conrad?” It’s a woman’s voice.

“Yes. How can I help you?”

“I’m Joyce Rostenkowski from the district attorney’s office.”

“Right. I was expecting to hear from you.”

“I want you to know that Robert Murdoch and George Billingsly have been indicted for crimes stemming from the night of July tenth of this year.”

“George Billingsly?” I ask. Although I’d never gotten his last name, I recognize the name Robert. George, not so much.

“Yes. The man you rescued little Kaileigh from.” The man I clocked in the head with the lamp. So he didn’t die. I’m torn about that. Gross piece of shit. “I know you gave your statement to the police,” she continues on, “but we’ll need to speak with you. We have additional questions.”

I begin walking again. “I figured.”

“Can you come down to Nashville or do you need us to come to you?”

“There’s no way I can go down to Nashville right now. I have a guard on me as it is.”

“A guard? Can I ask why?” A sharp edge tinges Joyce’s words.

“I was attacked after I left the police department… after the party.”

“In Nashville? I was never informed.”

“No. Here. In Kentucky. They followed me. They found me out right away and followed me. I won’t be stepping foot back in Tennessee until I have to testify. I assume I’ll have to testify.”

“Yes. You’re one of our key witnesses. Your testimony is a must.”

Looking both ways before I do, I step off the curb. My head snaps up to the sound of squealing tires and I stumble back a split second before the pickup, a plain, black pickup truck, tries to run me down.

I scream. The other mothers and fathers around me scream and shout. In the commotion, I think I see Dark barreling down the asphalt in a dead run to get to me, right before I hit my head and black out.

There’s a circle of gawkers around me when my eyes open. And Dark. His hand gently caresses my face. I’m still outside, so I know I couldn’t have been out long. When I try to push up, Dark uses one of his massive hands, splayed wide at my breastbone to keep me down. “Got medics coming, baby.”

“I don’t…” My head throbs as I try to speak. “I don’t think I need paramedics,” I manage to get out.

“Babe, your face when you tried to speak. You’re getting looked at. Don’t argue.” He’s right. It’s not smart to mess with head injuries.

“Call Green,” I tell him.

“Did it,” he replies.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Not a chance.” He presses his hand back to my cheek when it becomes apparent that I’m not going to try to get up again. His touch warms me through. It brings me comfort. I watch as he brings his phone up to his ear again, his thumb hitting the contact without having to look at the screen. “Black pickup. Ram. Tried to mow down Rae.” There’s a pause then, “She hit her head. We’re waiting on the ambulance.”

A Ram. It had all happened so fast, I didn’t notice more than black and a pickup. My head hurts something fierce. Eventually, the ambulance rolls up. The crowd parts, save for Dark, who won’t leave my side.

One of the paramedics says something about me having passed out and immobilizing my head to take me to the hospital. They load me onto a stretcher and roll me up into the back of the ambulance. Dark stays by my side.

“I’m following in the truck, baby, okay?”

“Okay,” I whisper.

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