TWISTED ? LOUIS PARTRIDGE

? 13 | GONE GIRL

I'd never bothered to see inmates until now.

Then again, I don't usually make out with them before arresting them.

But let's not dwell on the past.

Turning a corner, I prepared to grab my (new) ID to the entrance guard, but was surprised to see no one standing there. In fact, the entire hallway was deserted and empty. Where was everyone? This was a besmirch on the SIS guidelines—the jail cells should be guarded at all times—I'd have to report this.

Furrowing my brows, I used my badge to unlock the door, slipping inside. [y/n]'s cell would be isolated from the other inmates, due to her family's importance. The Ash case was treated like  gold among the rest.

But as I approached her containment room, I stopped.

There were voices inside.

Immediately feeling a sense of dread, I pressed myself up to the wall, my ears straining to hear what was being said. There was the voice of an unfamiliar woman, who was rambling on about something I couldn't hear clearly through the muffled steel door. It sounded like an argument. And suddenly it went silent.

Something tugged inside my chest, and my stomach started to swirl with uncertainty. Something was wrong.

Going with my gut feeling, I swung open the door, coming face to face with a decadence portrait of betrayal—but it wasn't mine this time.

William was leaning up against the wall, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked upon the scene before him. A woman who I didn't recognize was holding a pistol up towards the bars of a cell, where another girl stood frozen.

Ash.

I didn't give myself a chance to think, before I found myself lunging across the room, arms out and splintering towards the woman with the weapon. It was almost like feeling myself moving in slow-motion; I felt like I was running on a time limit, and I'd be too late if I waited a second more.

Crashing into the unfamiliar, I tackled them to the ground, anger rising into my soul. Their head hit the ground, knocking them out almost immediately. 

But then I heard the gunshot.

And then I heard the scream.

Even though I had managed to take down the woman, her finger still had a chance to pull the trigger in her hand. My head snapped towards the cell, eyes panicked and searching for the girl trapped inside.

"[y/n]," I said quickly, ignoring the woman I tackled, "Ash, are you okay?"

Grabbing my ID, I didn't even hesitate to slam it against the scanner, watching as it flashed green and slowly opened the bars to the cell. I didn't care if I was letting her loose, the only thing mattered was that she didn't get shot.

But I didn't have a chance to take another step inside, when I felt someone grab the collar of my shirt, yanking me back out.

"Partridge," William spat out.

"Franklyn-Miller," I spat back.

Was this revenge? Who was that woman—who was now unconscious from the tackle—beside him? His eyes were evil and unreadable, but I didn't bother stopping to ask before I swung a punch at him. He tried to kill Ash. And I was going to kill him for it.

My fist went crashing into his jaw, leaving the man stumbling into the wall behind him. He was never trained for combat. He was the assistant—I was the fighter. But I didn't spare him any mercy as I grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the tiled walls, my blood boiling with pure anger.