Gotcha! by Christie Craig

morning, as he’d watched Ellie cleaning up Andy’s trailer, he’d forced himself to see things clearly. Even if everything happened the way he planned, if he got to Tanks and made sure that scum wouldn’t ever be able to touch Ellie or Mace, even then things wouldn’t be okay. The cops were looking for him. They wouldn’t hesitate to shoot. And if he took Ellie with him…
    When he’d first planned on Ellie’s helping him, he hadn’t thought about what it would do to her. How many times had Mace told him he didn’t think things through? There had been a second when he’d considered taking Ellie and running to Mexico. But he couldn’t let Tanks do something to Mace. And what kind of life could he offer Ellie? Always running, always afraid.
    Turning himself in was the right thing, and he wouldn’t lie about killing Tanks either. Not that it much mattered. He was probably already going to be accused of killing Brandon. And maybe he had.
    “I love you,” Ellie said in that squeaky voice of hers.
    “I know,” Billy answered, but he didn’t say he loved her back. Because somehow, when this was finished, he had to convince Ellie to stop loving him. Before, when he’d thought about her waiting on him for two and a half more years, he hadn’t felt so bad. Now he would be in prison for a long time. Ellie didn’t deserve to spend her life loving a jailbird.
    He’d almost told Ellie to leave that morning. Maybe it was selfishness, but he hadn’t been strong enough to do it. Until he got Tanks, he wanted her here. When it was over, he’d find a way to make her forget about him.
    “I gotta go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He pulled away. “You got that cop’s number?” After trying to decide how to make sure Mace was okay without getting caught, he’d decided to trust Ellie’s instinct about Jake Baldwin. Billy would tell him about Tanks threatening his sister. Hopefully, the cop would watch out for Mace.
    “Yeah. He called me.” She grabbed her cell phone from her purse, found the number, and wrote it down.
    Billy touched her cheek. “Remember, whatever happens, you say I forced you to help me. And don’t use your cell phone; they might trace it.”
    “I’m not going to lie.” That beautiful mouth of hers pouted. “I love you and I don’t care who knows.”
    Frustration swelled in his chest. “If they know you helped me willingly, you could go to jail.”
    “But you escaped because you were scared David would do something to me and your sister. If you tell them the truth, they’ll understand.”
    Ellie might believe that, but he knew better. Sometimes even doing the right thing came with a price.
    “I’ve got to go.”
    Jake had his badge out when the four officers appeared at his side.
    “One of you stay here and watch her,” Jake ordered. “You two cover the back door.” He pointed to two officers. “We’ll go in the front,” he said to the last. “I haven’t seen any signs that anyone is still there, but if it’s who I think it is, and he’s in there, he plays hardball.”
    Jake heard his car door open. He pointed a finger at Macy, who was emerging. “Don’t!”
    Her gaze spat blue sparks, but she lowered her butt back into the seat.
    “Watch her,” he reminded the officer he’d left in charge of Macy. “If you have to, handcuff her to my steering wheel.”
    “I got her,” the officer said.
    Jake started toward the door. The other two patrol cops headed for the back, their Glocks held ready.
    As he approached, Jake eyed the words Dead Bitch and caught a whiff of paint. His gut relaxed. The fear of finding Macy’s cat lying in a puddle of blood lessened. But the smell of the paint jarred a sense of déjà vu.
    “Houston police. Drop your weapons!” He pushed the slightly open door with his foot. He and his backup barged inside.
    The words Wanna Fuck? were sprayed on the wall. Gritting his teeth, gun held high, Jake cut the corner into the living room.
    His gaze