Dana Sullivan is a mom of a sassy teenager and full-time student at Full Sail University where she is studying creative writing. She has spent many years trying to escape the small town where she resides by reading and writing. She’s a fan of the whimsical and fantasy, but she’s explored the exciting genre of crime drama with her story “Trapped.” Trapped “Hensley! Get over here,” Gould said.
With a groan, Hensley obliged, tiptoeing past the body sprawled on the floor. She wrinkled her nose as the stench of stale cigarette, beer, and musk hit her. She noticed paint chips on the floor where Gould stood on a faded brown spot of carpet in front of sliding doors. “Ya good?” Gould asked. “Yeah. It’s nothing,” Hensley said. She wasn’t taking a chance that Gould would kill her next. She had seen everything she didn’t want to know about. “Ya sure? You’re pale. Shakin’. Sweatin’.” Hensley shook her head, almost as though she needed to shake the image from her mind. “It’s fine. What are you gonna do now?” Gould shrugged and peered out the window. There were sirens in the distance, but they were headed away from the motel. “Wait it out a beat, I guess. Didn’t use the silencer, so need to lay low.” “Yeah. Prolly a good idea, Gould. But what about me? Where do I fit in with this plan?” Gould looked at her, his eyes dark. “Haven’t decided yet.” “So, you’re thinkin’ you’ll kill me too, huh?” “Dunno, Hensley. I don’t wanna. I really don’t. Didn’t wanna kill Jimmy there, either. Sometimes there’s no choice. Sometimes your hands just get tied.” “Why’d you do it if you didn’t wanna?” Gould turned away. “There’s so much you don’t know, Hensley. You’re lucky you get to stay in the light. The rest of us? We toe the line between light and dark and get pulled into the darkness more than we wanna say.” Hensley looked out the window, the sky was dark and not one star could be seen. “I’m not always in the light.” Gould chuckled. “Ya coulda fooled me, girl. Ya always light up a room. That’s definitely not a trait of someone who walks the line.” “Yeah whatever. I work in the morgue, but I’m a delight.” Gould shook his head and pulled out his phone. “Stay put. I’m gonna make a call real quick.” “Trustin’ me to do that?” Gould glared. “I am.” He opened the sliding door to the patio and made his call. Hensley sighed and slumped down to the floor in front of the dresser. She drew her knees to her chest and stared at the body across the room. “Good news. I don’t have to kill you,” Gould said, easing the door shut. “But you gotta help me stage this and you gotta keep your mouth shut because you’re an accessory now.” “Oh, is that all? Good thing you shot him in his damn head then, huh?” “Just do it.” “You didn’t use your police-issued handgun, right?” Gould rolled his eyes and handed me the Walther PPQ he used on Jimmy. “No, I’m a fucking idiot and used the Glock, Hensley. What? You think this is the first time I’ve had to do this?” “Unfortunately, no. I don’t think that’s the case,” Hensley said as she took a cloth and wiped down the gun before putting it in Jimmy’s hand and pulling the trigger. “Wish it was.” “Yeah…Me too, Gould. Me too.” Hensley said just before she pulled the trigger again, sending a bullet through Gould’s heart.
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