Thursday: May 25, 2028
8:04; LOS ANGELES, PRESCOTT-WINDER MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, RECOVERY ROOM 109
“Morning, Mister Wilkinson.”
Dominic lifted his eyes to Bo’s face, letting out a sigh. “Hello.”
“So… I thought I’d give you one last chance to come clean,” Bo said, closing the door.
“I’m not going to do that. I have nothing to come clean to,” Dominic said. “And if I did? Telling you about without my lawyer present would backfire on you in court.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here. Mind if I take a seat?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“We all have choices. Always,” Bo said.
Dominic scoffed. “Whatever, man.”
Bo sat down beside the bed, folding his hands in his lap. “Why’d you slit your therapist’s throat?”
“She stabbed me.”
“Yes, but you went there first. Not for an appointment. I already checked her schedule,” Bo said.
“She. stabbed. me.”
“I know. I know that part. Why the hell did you go there? Because you like Ashton? Because he’s your friend? Get rid of Miss Christian for hurting him? For assaulting him? For violating him? Kill her to protect him? One last hurrah before the cops got you? You know we were onto you. You know we were getting close, that we were going to arrest you. You knew that it was the last chance to take her out. Didn’t you? The last chance to protect Ashton before you ended up in cuffs?”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Dominic said. “I did what I had to do. Feel free to take that however you want, but I am not telling you anything else.”
“So you’re innocent?”
“I did what I had to do.”
“You went there with the intent to kill her, not injure her. Kill.”
“I did what I had to do,” Dominic said slowly. “Doesn’t really matter much, does it? She’s going to prison, thanks to Ash. That’s on him, regardless of what I did or didn’t intend to do,” he said. “End of story.”
“You murdered two innocent people, tried to murder a not so innocent third. I understand motive. I know why people do these things.” Bo shook his head. “But I can’t figure you out.”
“Sometimes, that’s just how it goes,” Dominic said. “Can’t find the answers to everything, you know. Must really hate that, huh?”
“It’s a bit of an annoyance, yes,” Bo said. “You have anger issues. That’s what I know. She tried to sleep with you, too… didn’t she?” Dominic shrugged. “But you wouldn’t, and she stopped helping you. The innocent victims. The violate, aggressive way in which you killed them… You wanted to show her it was her fault.” Bo lifted his eyes to Dominic’s face. “Right?”
“Don’t know,” Dominic said simply.
But Bo didn’t miss the shift in the man’s eyes. If he hadn’t figured it out with one hundred percent accuracy, he’d certainly gotten close. “That’s all I wanted, Mister Wilkinson,” Bo said quietly, pushing himself to his feet. “For future reference, you can protect a friend without killing a person, and you can get another’s attention without murdering innocent people.”
Dominic leaned over suddenly, grabbing Bo’s wrist with his free hand. He stared up at Bo before a smile pulled at either corner of his mouth. “Looks like I’m not the only killer in the room, Mister Austen. Stan. Nick. Bridget. Steven. Larry. Bernar—”
“Shut up,” Bo said through his teeth, yanking his hand back. “I’d like to say you watch a lot of news, but that wouldn’t tell you anything about Larry or… or Bernard.”
“Magic,” Dominic whispered, wiggling his fingers with pizzazz before dropping his hand back to the bed.
“As if, jackass. Do you see ghosts, too? Or just the mind reading?” Bo asked.
Dominic offered a shrug. “Guess that one’s just gonna have to eat away at you, too.”
“No, not really. I don’t care much about that. I just needed a motive that would make sense, even if it only makes sense in your head,” Bo said. “Enjoy your day, Mister Wilkinson. Or, at least, enjoy it to the best of your ability.”
“You, too. Hope nothing tragic happens to your family.” A pause. “Your little boy.”
Bo stopped at the door, closing his eyes as he shook his head. “If you were that kind of psychic, you wouldn’t have gotten caught. You would’ve seen it coming. Nice try, though.”
Dominic watched Bo open the door. “You don’t scare easy.”
“I need something logically sound to be scared of,” Bo said. “You’re far from logical.” Dominic rolled his eyes as the blonde walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. The man sighed, dropping his head back to his pillow. Sadly, the blonde wasn’t wrong. Dominic couldn’t see into the future. He couldn’t predict events to come.
He could only pick up on patterns, things that had already happened. The patterns he found in their heads were used to predict what a person may do later on. It helped him… track his victims, in a way.
But, overall, the blonde was just… right. If his ability had been different, he would’ve known the cops were going to show up at Tamara’s office. He wouldn’t have gotten caught or arrested. He would’ve hidden his tools at the house better.
If his ability had been different, he wouldn’t be handcuffed to a hospital bed.
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