Abigail

The gunshot rang out through the warehouse like thunder.

"Abigail!" Annette shrieked, tears slipping down her bruised face. "Abby, no-"

I rolled off Gavin, breathing heavily, patting myself hurriedly. No wound?

"You... bitch..."

Gavin’s body slumped to the floor, blood already pooling rapidly from the wound in his stomach.

His eyes widened in shock, mouth opening and closing silently as he stared down at the growing red stain on his shirt. Annette and I screamed.

We scrambled backward, hearts pounding, the bat clattering to the ground as we put distance between the bleeding man and us.

Gavin coughed, blood bubbling from his lips, his hand pressing weakly against the wound as if that could stop the life draining out of him.

Oh my god. Oh my fucking gosh. Did I... did I shoot him? I was so angry that I had no idea what had happened, but we had been struggling for the gun.

He was going to kill Annette and me. He was going to kill my best friend. I had to do something.

"Abby..." Annette gasped, voice trembling. She was bleeding from her face and side, but she was alive.

I rushed to her, gathered her into my arms, holding her so tightly I was probably hurting her. Sobs tore from my throat as I buried my face in her hair.

"I’m sorry," I cried. "I’m so sorry, Annie. This is all my fault. He came for me, and you got hurt because of it. I’m so fucking sorry!"

"You’re okay, oh my god you’re okay, I thought he shot you," she cried, clinging to me back just as fiercely, her entire body shaking against mine.

"I’m so sorry. I’m a horrible friend. I never should have gotten you involved in this," I sobbed, the cries tearing through me. "What would I do if you died? God, Annette, what the fuck would I do?"

"You’ll become Batwoman to avenge my death?" she mumbled against my chest, and I groaned.

"Really? You’re making jokes right now?"

"I’m fine, Abby," she rasped. "I’m okay. We’re both okay. Stop that. This isn’t your fault."

I drew back slightly, cupping her bruised face, tears streaming down my cheeks. The guilt was crushing me. My best friend, the person who had stood by me through every single thing, was hurt because I wouldn’t let my parents’ case die.

I searched her for bruises and winced when I saw a huge swelling wound on her head. That must be where all the blood in the apartment was from. "Hospital. We have to get you to the hospital."

"What about the phone?" she sniffed.

"Who cares?! Let’s get you to the hospital!" I scoffed, and Annie stepped away, slapping my wrist.

"That phone is on him. I am not getting beaten up for nothing. Go take the damn phone, Abby. It’s right there, and we can finally get answers to all your questions."

I glanced at Gavin, who was sprawled on the floor, blood pooling around him.

She was right. Wiping my face roughly, we approached Gavin carefully. He was still breathing, but barely, his eyes glassy as he stared up at the ceiling.

I reached into his jacket pocket and drew out the familiar phone. My hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped it. We both stared down at him for a long moment.

"Should we call the police?" Annette whispered.

This asshole, who had murdered Detective Cole, had tried to kill me and had just beaten my best friend.

"I don’t care," I spat coldly. "If he didn’t get shot, he was going to kill us. I refuse to feel bad for him. At least this way we won’t have to live in fear of him anymore."

I kicked him hard in the side, even though my entire body was trembling. The contact made me feel sick, but the anger was stronger. Then I grabbed Annette’s hand and pulled her away, out of the warehouse.

We used a payphone a few blocks away to call 911 anonymously, reporting the shooting at the warehouse.

Then I helped Annie into the car, ready to drive her to the hospital, when she gripped my hand and shook her head.

"Let’s just go home," she rasped. "They’ll ask questions at the hospital, and we need to crack that phone anyway."

"We can always crack it later, don’t be silly, Annette. We need to treat your wounds."

"They’re just cuts and bruises-"

"No!" I bit out.

"Abby-"

"No!"

"They’ll ask questions, Abigail," she argued, her eyes gazing softly at me. "What do we say?"

"Uh, the truth? What else is there to say?"

Annette swallowed, glancing away from me. "You killed him, Abigail."

My shoulders slumped, ice-cold shock running through my veins.

"It was self-defense, he was going to kill us," I hissed.

"Will his people or whoever the fuck he’s working for let it go? Will the hospital believe us? You can’t go to prison over a son of a bitch, so let’s just go home, okay?"

I held my breath, thinking about what she said before mumbling, Okay, and turning on the engine.

Back at our old apartment, some thirty minutes later, I settled Annette down on the couch and started cleaning her wounds.

She had a nasty cut on her forehead, bruises blooming across her face and ribs, but nothing life-threatening, thankfully. Still, every mark on her made my heart twist with guilt and fury.

So what if I killed him? If I hadn’t tackled him, Annette could be dead. I’d rather that murderer were dead. It was self-defense.

"You should stay still and let me treat you properly," I muttered, dabbing antiseptic on her forehead.

Annette winced but shook her head. "We don’t have time to waste, Abby. Now that we have the phone, we need to access the data on it before they realize it’s gone."

She was right. I handed her the phone and watched as her fingers flew across the screen and then her laptop. I kept tending to her wounds as best I could while she worked.

"I got it," she murmured after several tense minutes. "Transferring the files now."

The laptop screen filled with documents, emails, and old footage. We both leaned in, hearts pounding.

I gasped when she clicked on the ownership records that Cole found about Lander. It was a subsidiary of... Wolfe Enterprises.

Finnegan’s company had owned it for many years. I stared at the screen, unable to breathe.

"No..." I whispered. "That can’t be right."

Annette scrolled further. There was old security footage from the company. My parents were standing in front of a man flanked by bodyguards, shaking his hand. The man in the video was...

"Finnegan?"