43
I approached the figure I had shot and immediately recognized him as Officer Evans. Blood pooled around his body. My first two shots had hit dead center, the third in his throat. My ears rang from the sudden silence and from the realization that I had killed a cop. A dirty, murdering, racist cop but a cop nevertheless. I was in a shitload of trouble unless I could prove he was dirty and that I had acted in self-defense.
Conor came up from behind me. “Looks like ya got the fucker. Good shooting, love.”
“He’s the cop who set off the bomb at Wesley Bolin Plaza.”
“Shite! b****y wanker. Glad ya got him.” He kicked the body.
“We need to check on Caden and…and Peyton.”
Conor gave me a look. “I’ll see to Caden. You check on your boyfriend.”
“Ex-boyfriend!” I shouted as he hustled off the
