High Risk by G.K. Parks (books for 10th graders TXT) 📕

one of the officers said. He gave us a look. “You both shot that prick. I’m sorry, but you know the rules.”

“Yeah, just give me a minute to patch up my partner.” Brad handed the waiting cop his firearm and opened the first aid kit. He took out some gauze and pressed it against my neck. “Keep pressure on it.”

My fingertips brushed against his, and I felt the tremor. “Are you okay?”

“Right as rain. How ‘bout you?” He withdrew his hand from beneath mine. “Does anything else hurt?”

“My shoulder.”

He checked the back of my shirt, finding it damp and sticky. He reached into the first aid kit and pulled out more gauze and some tape. “Liv’s going to need a ride to the hospital.”

Mac bounded down the steps, having heard the commotion. The entire precinct must be buzzing by now. “I’ll take her,” she volunteered, “unless you want to wait for an ambulance.”

“No, I’m okay.” I stood, glad that Brad steadied me when the floor suddenly pitched.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Positive.” I let out a breath. “We got him.”

“Yes. We did.” He nodded to one of the cops who’d fired from the freight elevator.

“I’m just thankful it’s finally over,” I said.

“That makes two of us.” Brad brushed my hair out of my face. “Go get stitched up. I’ll meet you at the hospital later.”

Forty-two

“How long are you going to be out?” Dad asked. When the cruise ship docked at port, he’d gotten several dozen messages and called me immediately.

“A couple of weeks, but I’ll be stuck behind a desk for a while. Something about my red blood cell count.”

“But you’re sure you’re okay, honey?”

“I’m fine, Dad.” I held the device farther away from my face so he could see more of me. “Just a few stitches. Nothing to worry about. Like I said, everyone overreacted.”

“For a former UC, you should be better at lying.”

“I’m fine. Now you sound like Mom.”

“Your mother wanted to hop the first flight back. I thought she’d jump ship and swim to you.” She smacked him, and he rubbed his shoulder. “Ouch.”

“Are you sure you don’t need us to come home, Olive?” Mom asked, leaning closer to my dad so I could see her too.

“I’m okay. I’m at home, hanging out on the couch and watching TV with Gunnie.”

“What about food?” Mom asked. “Do you have anything to eat?”

“She’s an adult, Maria,” my dad scolded.

“I got it covered. Emma brought over the freezer meals you made, and Brad’s on his way with pizza.”

“Okay, but if you need anything, you let us know,” Mom repeated for the hundredth time.

“Yeah, I will. I love you. Enjoy the rest of your trip.” I disconnected and tossed the phone onto the table and sighed. Gunnie turned and looked at me. “Don’t give me that look. They’re your parents too.”

A few minutes later, Brad let himself in to my apartment, carrying a cauliflower crust pizza. He put the box on the table, grabbed a hard cider from my fridge, and sat down on the opposite end of the couch.

“So what’s the verdict?” I asked.

“Investigation’s over. Everyone’s been cleared. Not that we had any doubts. Brandon Tarelli was a piece of work. It turns out he’d launched several abuse claims in prison, but his lawyer never made much progress on them. The injuries Tarelli sustained were thought to be the result of prison fights and necessary force needed to break up the riots he caused. Based on the things he said to you and his two accomplices, I don’t think that’s what happened. I’m not sure if they’ll launch an investigation into the prison and the guards in question, but I think they might.”

“Prison made him worse.”

“Perhaps, or it just made him angrier.”

“What about Carter and Diego?”

“They’ll both serve time. Diego killed someone, but the DA’s willing to consider the factors involved. They might take a plea for manslaughter. Carter’s an accessory, but there’s mitigating circumstances. I’m sure they’ll both face robbery and conspiracy charges, but other than that, you’d have to ask Logan Winters what the DA wants to do.”

“How are you?”

He snorted. “Winston’s pissed. He’s angry we made him look bad, so he’s blaming us for this mess. Apparently, we should have shared this intel with him, Voletek, and Lisco before they ran off with the strike team.”

“We didn’t know anything for sure. And something tells me he wouldn’t have listened anyway.”

“That’s not really the point.” Brad popped the top and took a sip. “Is Emma still mad at me?”

“Emma’s always mad at you.”

“To be honest, I’m enjoying the silent treatment.”

“You know, since Tarelli’s dead, you don’t have to spend all your off hours hanging around here.”

“Are you kicking me out? I came to the rescue, DeMarco. You should be grateful.”

“I am.” I reached for a slice of pizza, my gaze stopping on the bottle of cognac. “You want to crack that open?”

“I thought you weren’t willing to accept bribes, especially from Axel Kincaid.”

“I’m not. I also can’t drink with my pills. But you are obviously in need of some libations.” I pointed to the bottle in his hand. “And I don’t have anything else in the house to offer you.”

Brad drained the cider, unwilling to let it go to waste, and reached for the cognac. “That’s the first time Kincaid hasn’t come through with something for you. I guess that means this isn’t a bribe. It’s just a get well gift.”

“Or he didn’t have any intel on Tarelli, which makes sense. Tarelli didn’t have much of a plan when he got out of prison aside from getting revenge on everybody in uniform and stealing as much money as possible. Everything just fell into place when he happened to overhear Carter Moore talking