Rescue - Roman Godfrey

Chapter 35

Just as if the day couldn't get any worse, we hear a police siren chirp as we are loading the two dead bodies into the van.

"Fuck," Peter huffs when the police car stops in front of us. Roman gives an awkward wave as Chassuer gets out, a gun firmly in his hand.

"Get on the ground," he demands. Without hesitating, we get on our knees. "Not you," he points at Peter. "Unload those bodies."

Peter does what he is told while Roman and I get handcuffed. "You should be kissing our asses! We delivered you a couple of serial killers! You could get a ticker-tape parade down Hemlock Avenue!"

"Roman," I whisper yell. "Stop."

Chassuer doesn't say anything until Peter finishes unloading the bodies. "On your knees, hands behind your head," he orders. "Is this why you wanted to get me out of town?"

"I came to you about these people," Peter sighs. "Look at them. Why would they be wearing masks? Have body armor? A car filled with weapons and explosives?"

"On your knees," Chassuer demands sternly, his gun pointed at him. Peter slowly does what he says and Chassuer handcuffs him before checking the bodies. I watch closely as he studies something. He abruptly gets up and uncuffs us, as if something suddenly changed his mind.

"What are you doing?"

"This didn't happen, understand?" He spits, looking at the three of us sternly. "If any of you breathes a word, you'll end up like these two."

-

We were exhausted when we finally reached Roman's house. I just wanted to eat, shower and go to bed.

"Mind if I take a shower?" Peter asks when we walk through the front door.

"Mi casa and shit," Roman replies, putting his hands up. I chuckle lightly and Peter begins walking up the stairs. "We can take a shower together later," he whispers in my ear. "I gotta run to the white tower. Work stuff."

"Roman, you should rest."

"I'm fine.

Frowning, I drop the subject and head to the kitchen. The nanny was sitting on the couch, a small pink blanket rested in her lap. Roman and I look at each other in confusion when we hear her sniffle. There was something wrong.

"The baby," I said. "Where is she?"

"She took her."

Roman swallows. "My mother?"

"The girl," the nanny spits. "Miranda."

"Where did she go?" Roman shierks. "Why didn't you stop her?"

She flinches. "I-I dozed off. They were gone when I woke up."

I feel sick to my stomach. Roman turns away, rubbing his face in frustration. Peter grabs my shoulder. "Maybe she just took her to the doctor."

"With diapers and toys?" The nanny croaked as tears fell from her face. "She's gone," she looks at Roman. "I warned you about her. You wouldn't listen."

The nanny abruptly gets up and disappears into a room. Peter is dialing a number while I try to calm Roman down. Peter huffs, hanging up the phone. "It's voicemail."

"We need to find her," Roman shakes his head. "We need to find the baby."

"Yeah, we'll figure it out."

Suddenly, both of their faces start twisting in pain. Peter groans, falling onto the ground and Roman soon follows.

"Peter? Roman?" I gulp, panicked. "What is going on?"