Face of Fury (Zoe Prime #5) - Blake Pierce Page 0,61

on suspicion of murder,” Flynn shouted, throwing his arms out wide so that Pitsis couldn’t get by. Pitsis, wiry as he was, thin and tall and graying but unbowed, didn’t even pause or try to dodge to either side. He carried on moving headlong toward Flynn, and then barreled back a fist to punch him full in the face.

Fearing the worst, Zoe had already kicked off, launching herself in their direction as quickly as she could. But Flynn, although he had staggered back a pace at the hit, wasn’t going down. He continued to block Pitsis, boxing him to one side as he tried to dodge, and then drew back his own arm to deliver a swift punch in return.

And Pitsis fell to the ground, stunned, his nose pouring blood.

Zoe slacked off her pace, almost on top of them now, faltering to a stop. It was over. They had him. But just as she embraced this relief, Pitsis jerked to the side, making a move as if to roll to his feet and stand, trying to run past Flynn into the opening left by his lowered arms.

It happened so fast. Zoe blinked once, and then Flynn’s gun was no longer in his holster but in his hands, and he was pointing it right at Pitsis with a breathless yet somehow steady arm.

“Don’t even try it, asshole,” Flynn spat. Pitsis looked up; behind them, Zoe could not see his facial expression, read whether he was complying. Flynn brought up his second hand to grip the gun, steadying it further, keeping it aimed right at Pitsis’s head. There was a cold fury in his eyes. The safety was off. Zoe felt her breath catch in her throat.

He was going to shoot.

“Flynn,” Zoe began, not really sure how she was going to follow that up. She just wanted to try to get his attention. To distract him enough that he wasn’t going to pull the trigger. It wasn’t worth it. She knew from experience that shooting a suspect was never a good idea, unless you absolutely had to in order to save a life. Not only did it lead to disciplinary trouble, but it also left you without the answers that you needed—that victim families would demand.

And there was the other thing, the kind of ragged fear that gripped at her at the thought of seeing another human die right in front of her. She had seen it happen enough times already. Too many times. Even when it had seemed like it was justified, it was never pretty. Never a good solution. There would be the dreams after, the visions of those last gasps for air, the thought of what you could have done better… And there was Shelley’s face, rising up in her mind, freezing her to the spot, those cold white eyes filmed over in death…

“Go on, do it,” Pitsis sneered. He had not fallen back or relaxed; he was still wound tight as a spring, tension in every line of his body. Zoe could see how he might push off on one hand and jump to his feet and try to make a run for it. He looked ready. “Go ahead. It’s not like I have anything more to lose. Shoot me.”

For a long, awful moment, Zoe thought that Flynn would. Her words caught in her throat and stuck there. Nothing that she could say to make him stop—no words that came into her mind that would make him see. There was only a terrifyingly blank space and an infinitesimally small moment of wishing she was more like Shelley, able to make someone listen to reason with words alone, even as the thought of Shelley made her sick to her stomach.

And then Flynn’s arms relaxed, elbows going down and wrists upward, separating, the gun going back toward its holster. He tucked it away and pulled out a pair of handcuffs in the same gesture, stepping toward Pitsis.

“Like I was saying,” Flynn said, leaving Zoe’s heart to pound in relief as delayed adrenaline flooded through her, making her feel slightly sick, “you’re under arrest for murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in court…”

Zoe leaned against the wall of the bar, catching her breath as she clutched at her throat, relieved on two counts: that Flynn had kept control, and that they had a killer trapped between them, cuffs being slapped on his wrists as she watched with the blood pounding in