Page 96 of Red Retaliation
Redmond Bateman is unhinged, and I can’t be near him any longer.
The pull to check over my shoulder, convinced someone is behind me is so strong I can taste it, but I keep walking.
I sensed I was being tailed when going to that room, but I was wrong. I’m paranoid. I have to keep telling myself that now because I need to get out of here.
My brow creases so hard the lines will probably be permanent, but I’ve got more important things than that to worry about. It’s obvious why Red just sent Liam to Room Twelve - it must be the accountant’s room.
Nausea floods me as I realize they’ve staged it to look like the poor man killed himself.
Oh God, this is sick!
Even if Red is questioned about why he was in the corridor or lift just now, it’s feasible he should be going to or from his own room. It’s just a dreadful “coincidence” that a man took his own life from the room below...
Even a suicide note will be found...
My husband and his brother just murdered another man in our bedroom.
I can’t be part of this anymore.
How can Red seriously expect me to sleep in a room where I’ve just watched someone thrown to their death? Or know there was a tarpaulin on my carpet that someone was tortured on. And sleeping in the same bed with someone who justifies this behavior?
A choked sob spills from my mouth. My raw lust for Red aside, I can’t do this.
I reach the automatic doors, my relief surging.
“Excuse me, miss.”
Shit!
Spinning around, I face a worried looking, uniformed man.
“I... I’d advise you to stay inside for the time being. There’s been an... an incident...”
I smile tightly. “Thank you, but I need to be somewhere.”
Furthermore, I know exactly what the incident is...
Pushing past the man and through the doors, the November night blasts me in the face. I have no coat, but freezing to death is preferable to remaining in there - withthem.
Darting to the left, I’m grateful for the crowd amassed like ghouls, speculating about the smashed body lying on the concrete somewhere close by. I pick my way through the milling throng, the flashing blue lights of the emergency services illuminating the night sky like a grotesque fairground attraction. I dip in and out between people, keeping my eyesaverted from the sight I definitely don’t want to see.
The expression on that accountant’s face as he was dropped from the balcony is burned into my brain for eternity. I don’t want to see what remains of him.
I’m deaf to the clamoring noise all around, the shrieks - some of excitement, others horror; people muttering about theories, murder, suicide...
They can say what they like -Iknow what’s happened.
Red Bateman happened.
Bursting through a jostling group with phones raised above their heads taking pictures, I fixate on the clear pavement ahead. Like a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, I reach it and once there, ignore the urge to sit down, get my breath, and work out what the fuck I’ll do now or where I’ll go. Instead, I continue propelling myself forward.
Just because Red hasn’t found me yet doesn’t mean he won’t, and until I’m far enough away from him and this place, it’s a risk I need to avoid at all costs. I cannot go back.
CHAPTER
69
Red
