Home > LET ME GO

LET ME GO
Author: Willow Rose

Prologue

 

 

“We’ve set up the perimeter, boss. Team’s ready. They’re just waiting for your go.”

Reed nodded. His pulse was pounding in his ears as the adrenaline rushed through him. His hands felt clammy, and he had to wipe them on his shirt to get them dry enough. He couldn’t let slippery hands interfere with what was about to go down. He really didn’t want to have to do this.

“I just shot my dad in the head.”

That was the message that dispatch had received and passed on. A hostage situation, they said. A young kid who told them his name was Peter was in there, in that two-story house in front of Reed. With him were his mom and younger sister.

An argument had made the boy shoot his father. The boy had then called nine-one-one. He said he was standing inside the house with the firearm and that his mom and sister were hiding in the bathroom, that he had poured gasoline all over the house, and that he’d kill himself and what was left of his family.

“Please, don’t do that,” Dispatch had told him. “There’s no need. Stay on the phone with me.”

But the boy had hung up. Reed and his men were sent out to prevent a tragedy from happening. Reed wasn’t going to lose any more lives tonight.

Not on his watch.

The boy had told dispatch that it was an accident, that he didn’t mean to kill his dad, but Reed also knew that the guy was desperate and capable of anything if he was capable of killing his own father.

Reed wasn’t taking any chances. In his fifteen years as leader of the SWAT unit, he had seen his share of desperate young men. And one thing was certain; you never knew what they might do next. The fact that the boy had poured gasoline all over the house showed him that they had to be very careful with this one.

“I see movement behind one of the windows,” Harris said to him.

Harris had been with Reed’s team for almost ten years now. The two of them had been through hostage situations like this many times.

Not all of them ended well.

“Is there any way of getting in contact with the boy?” Reed asked and looked through his binoculars.

“Negative,” Harris said. “There’s no landline, and we don’t have any cell phone numbers. It’s gonna take a while to get them. Too long if you ask me. We don’t have time. We need to act now before he lights a match or shoots any more of his family members.”

Reed sighed deeply, but he agreed.

“All right.” He grabbed the radio and spoke into it: “Team is a go.”

Reed saw the silhouette of a person bobbing up and down in the window and wondered if the kid was performing CPR on his father. On the call, he had said that his dad was lifeless and not breathing. Was he trying to resuscitate him?

The shadow disappeared.

A pack of officers was creeping up toward the front porch. Three others came from the east side. Reed grabbed his PA, ready to try and address the boy, ask him to come out and surrender himself, giving him a last chance to end this peacefully.

But before Reed could place the PA against his lips, the door to the house cracked open. A figure appeared and emerged through the screen door and walked onto the porch.

 

 

Prologue

 

 

Peter James was in the living room when he heard the noise coming from outside his windows. Thinking it was just some of the neighborhood’s kids, he chose to ignore it at first.

He stared at the computer screen in front of him, where he was making a new gaming video for his seven-hundred-thousand followers who tuned in every week to see him play. He was in the middle of a huge battle when the noise disturbed him again.

“Give me a second,” he said to his viewers. “I have to go and see what’s going on. I’ll be right back. Probably just some neighborhood kids messing around.”

He let the video run and paused the game, then rushed to the front door and opened it. A white and extremely bright light met him outside the screen door, and he had to use his hand to cover his eyes. He did so while taking a step onto the porch. Suddenly, he was met with loud voices yelling from multiple angles.

Desperate and frantic yelling.

“Don’t move. Put your hands in the air.”

Peter froze. The yelling continued.

“Hands where we can see them!”

Peter felt confused. The light was still blinding him, and it was like a surreal dream. What was happening?

“Raise your hands!”

“Excuse me?” Peter turned his head very slowly to the left and realized that there were about half a dozen police cars, lights flashing, and more officers pointing firearms in his direction, including a shotgun and a semi-automatic rifle.

“Raise your hands NOW!”

Peter did as he was told. His arms shot straight up, his heart pounding.

“Face the house, back down your front steps, and walk backward toward us.”

Peter blinked, trying to get the information right and not make a wrong move. As he did his turn, the light blinded him so much he instinctively lowered one hand toward his waist.

That would prove to be fatal.

The shot came from behind the white light and blasted through his chest with such force his body was slung backward, back through the screened door. The bullet ripped through his heart and killed him instantly.

He didn’t even hear his mother’s terrified screams coming from inside the house.

 

 

ONE YEAR LATER

 

 

Books-A-Million, New Jersey

 

 

Chapter 1

 

 

“He refuses to do it.”

“Let me talk to him.”

Liam overheard them talking and smiled secretively as his agent, Ben, came toward him. He could see Ben was grinding his teeth as he walked. Liam pretended to be listening to the dolled-up woman in her high stilettos and pretended to not feel sick from her overpowering perfume or her thick layer of make-up. He considered commenting on it, putting a little insult into some sarcasm or a joke and seeing how she reacted.

Just for fun.

Here comes the smile. Come on, Ben; put on the smile.

And there it was. Ben clenched his fists one more time, then looked up, and as his eyes met Liam’s, he smiled.

A smile so phony that Hollywood should be calling soon.

Liam chuckled and shook his head. Sensing that she was being ignored, the dolled-up woman slipped away quietly.

“You do know that a genuine smile doesn’t show the bottom teeth, right?” Liam said and sipped his champagne. The bookstore had provided it for him as he had demanded they did like he demanded every bookstore did if they wanted him to come to their insignificant place and attract a crowd.

“You’re a son-of-a-gun, you know that, right?” Ben said, speaking with a low voice.

“I do,” Liam answered as he lifted his glass at a woman who made eyes at him while passing by. “It’s part of my charm, remember? It’s why they love me so much.”

“Don’t sleep with anyone here,” Ben said. “And please…for Christ sakes, just do what they expect you to. The publishing house wants you to do this tour, and it’s the last God darn book signing. We’ve been all over the country for the past several weeks. Just sit in the stupid chair, smile at the nice housewives, flirt a little, and sign their books. It’s as simple as that.”

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