An amateur medium races against the brink of her own sanity to track down a serial killer who is already in possession of his next victim.
And she only has 23 days to solve the case or else.
***
Devyn Brooks has only ever had one fear: don't becom...
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All I see is red. As the anger and anxiety cycle through my bloodstream, it hinders the air to my lungs. I'm hardly breathing or thinking straight. My fists curl with anticipation.
I should've made it here on time. I should've never allowed Devyn to come alone. Then again, Devyn is her own person and she's trying to have a more positive relationship with the police. Problem is, they don't deserve her.
Beneath all the red are flashes of the past. The circle of white men, grilling me with a guilty verdict before the arrest. The hard slam to the street. The kicks and blows that followed despite the fact I obeyed every order. The dehumanization, the interrogation from hell, their determination to work double time and nail me for a murder I didn't commit.
I was already amped up before I saw this white cop grab my girlfriend like he had ownership. There was something I caught outside while I entered the station.
It took four officers to haul in one Black kid, no older than fifteen. He had been pepper sprayed, fucked up—blood coming down his nose. They were warning him to cooperate even though he was so bound up and in pain, he couldn't make a reply. That was ten minutes ago. And I had a frustrating revelation because of it.
This shit never stops.
It doesn't matter what we say.
It doesn't matter how much noise we make.
Or what laws we try to pass.
They still treat us like animals because this problem extends past the moment. With over three-hundred years of perfecting an unfair legal system, they've convinced themselves that they're better.
And now this.
I saw the way Devyn's face regarded this cop with fear—a feeling I am well acquainted with. It's taking all of my self-control not to rage into the Hulk. Even if an irate Black dude in a police station is just asking for it.
The white cop drops Devyn, backing up with his hands in the air. "Whoa, I didn't mean any disrespect. Sorry."
Yeah, they never fucking do after they get called out.
My face hardens, along with my fists. "Didn't your mom ever teach you not to grab a woman like that? What the fuck is your problem, man?"
"Ace," Devyn says. She backs up into me, as if she's protecting me. Probably from going batshit bananas on his ass. 'Cause he wouldn't be the first guy I beat the shit out of for hurting her.
"He's right. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that. I apologize, Devyn."
My girlfriend gives a muted nod.
"You must be Ace Jones," the white muthafuckah addresses me, and then has the outright nerve to extend his hand in greeting. "I'm Cole Adams. My uncle speaks highly of you too."
