Page 92 of Will to Run

It brings my attention there too, and I see Molly with a gun pointed directly at him. A gun I didn’t know she had, carried, or knew how to use.

“Listen to me, motherfucker. Let her go, or I swear to God, I will drop you.”

Tripp’s rage has given way to disbelief, with a hint of fear. “You wouldn’t,” he challenges.

“I’m the reigning High Plains Marksmanship gold medal champion six years in a row. I fucking assure you, I would.”

Tripp drops my wrist and steps back. He’s so used to just getting what he wants that I bet he can’t even comprehend someone challenging him like this. But things are different out here. Money doesn’t come with the same privileges as back home, certainly not for an outsider.

“Elizabeth, we’re leaving,” he says, not taking his eyes off Molly.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to go with him, but I also don’t want to enrage him again. Because I bet Molly is not bullshitting about the marksman thing, and has no problem hurting Tripp. I don’t care about him, but I don’t want her to get into irrevocable trouble because of me.

I open my mouth to reply, but before I can, two police officers enter the room, guns at the low and ready. I’ve met the one, Alan, before.

Well, this has turned into a spectacle.

Tripp’s hands go into the air.

“Put that shit away, Molly,” Alan says. I’m confused for a minute before I remember that Alan and Molly are cousins.

“I apologize, officers. I was just trying to get my fiancée to come home.” Tripp’s entire demeanor has changed into the public charmer he wears so fucking well. It’s scary as hell that he can flip on a dime like that.

“Really?” Alan questions. “Is that why the glass on the sliding door is cracked?”

“It’s just a misunderstanding. She opened the door to let me in,” he says.

“You know how hard you have to hit tempered glass to crack it? Your hand looks a little bruised there, and you reek of alcohol. What’s all over the ground out there?” Alan says, pointing to the dirt that is strewn all over the deck.

“Just a moment of panic. I don’t want to lose her, you see.”

Alan looks at me while his partner doesn’t take his eyes off, Tripp. I don’t know what he knows or doesn’t know, but I’m sure he can see the fear on my face when I look back at him.

“What happened, Della?” he asks.

“He…” I hesitate. This is going to piss him off even more,

“He was punching the glass, and she opened the door to let him in because she didn’t want the glass to break. And then he grabbed her wrist and told her he was going to teach her a lesson. His fist was raised, Alan. He woulda’ hit her.” Molly holds my wrist up. Though not bruised yet, there are undeniable, angry red finger marks. Alan looks at me, and I just nod. I have no doubt Tripp would have hit me. What I don’t know is how hard or how many times.

Before anyone says anything, Everest screeches into the room. What the hell is he doing here? Everyone glances at him, but then Alan looks back at Tripp to continue.

“Well, you’ll have some time to think about losing her. You’re under arrest.”

“On what charges?” Tripp scoffs.

“Domestic assault. We’ll deal with the property damage and unlawful entry at the station.”

“Get the fuck out of here. It was a conversation. I didn’t hit her.”

“I will get the fuck out of here with you in handcuffs. You have the right to remain silent.”

He doesn’t fight the cops, but glares at me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. I know he has connections in Chicago that can probably make this disappear, but that backing won’t reach all the way out here.

After he is taken out, I am left with another police officer who is talking to me about everything, but when he leaves, I’m shaken up. All the adrenaline I had has worn off, and every ounce of energy is gone. Not wanting to talk much, I retreat to my painting room while Hazel and Molly stay; Lanie left with Everest.

Amberheart doesn’t owe me anything, but these woman are sure working overtime to mend the things that broke me.

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