The Last Rock King by Seven Steps

Author:Seven Steps [Steps, Seven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Limitless Publishing LLC
Published: 2016-09-27T04:00:00+00:00

***

When she awoke, he was still there, his arms snaked around her. He was still wearing his clothes from the night before.

She shifted, turning her entire body toward him as he snored softly.

Her eyes went wide.

Three scratches reddened each side of his neck. Scratches that looked like they came from fingernails.

Her breath caught, she closed her eyes against it. Didn’t Stacey scratch her killer? Was it Noah’s DNA under her lifeless nails?

No. There had to be another explanation.

Her musing was cut short by the sounds of voices outside her door. Multiple voices. Urgent voices. One rose above them all.

“Noah!” it cried.

She sat up in the bed, pushing back the hair that had fallen into her eyes.

“Noah!”

Noah didn’t stir.

She shook him awake. “Noah, someone’s calling you.”

He tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her back down to him.

“Noah!” it called again.

She tried to wriggle out of his vicelike grip. He responded by pulling her closer.

“Baby, you have to get up.”

He grunted something and smiled in his sleep.

“No, really.” She pushed him away, hard. “Get up.”

“What?” he growled, opening one eye.

“Someone is calling your name.”

“What? Who?”

“I don’t know.”

The voice screamed again. “Noah!”

Noah’s body shot up. He threw the covers off of him, jogged to the door.

He snatched the door open, Cassie hot on his heels.

Dozens of police officers paced the hallway. Dondo was in the middle of them, his hands cuffed behind his back as he lay face down on the floor.

“Dondo!” Noah cried, running to his oldest friend.

“I didn’t do it, Noah,” Dondo said. “Whatever they tell you, I didn’t do it. I barely knew the girl.”

“The girl?”

“Mr. LaRock.” An officer tapped him on the shoulder. His black hair curled around his neck, his pink lips full and pursed.

“Who are you?” Noah asked.

“I am Officer Pierre LaButte.” His English was broken every so often when he muttered in French.

“Let him go,” Noah said. “He’s innocent.”

“We cannot. Mr. Rodriguez has been charged with murder.”

“Murder?”

“Yes. Please follow me.” The officer’s eyes were solemn as Noah followed him back to Dondo’s room.

Cassie kept close by.

There, in the middle of the floor, was a suitcase. A leg and arm protruded from the sides.

Noah turned away, put his hand over his mouth.

“Who was that?” he muttered, his voice choked.

“Her name was Maris Beau,” Officer LaButte said. “She was murdered sometime last night. It seems that Mr. Rodriguez has been on, how do you say, a streak.”

“No,” Noah said. “Dondo couldn’t have done this.”

“We will see. We will send away for a DNA test. If Mr. Rodriguez’s DNA matches with the DNA from the German girl, he will be tried for murder.”

“How long will the test take?”

Pierre muttered in French, “A few days.”

“Until then?”

“Until then, Mr. Rodriguez will be put into La Santé Prison. Because of his connections with you, he will be put into the VIP wing.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that he will be well taken care of.”

Officer LaButte gestured to a fellow officer, who picked Dondo off the floor.

Dondo’s eyes went wide, his mouth pulled into a frown.

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