Chapter 312

"Tim, what the hell? You can't have that!" I exclaimed, panic lacing my voice as I eyed the gun. "It'll violate your bail conditions if you're caught with it."

Timothy's expression tightened. "Andy just threw it at me back there. He claimed it was his, said it's the same style gun I left in the clearing where I shot Bruce."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and I started feeling the onset of migraine. I struggled to comprehend the implications, my mind racing to connect the dots.

"But how? The gun was gone before the police could collect evidence," I said, my voice trembling. "How did Andy get his hands on it?"

Timothy's gaze shifted, his mind working through the possibilities. "I don't know, Evie. But I suspect someone else might have been there, or came after us at the scene. It doesn't add up."

The sense of paranoia began to creep in, the shadows of doubt playing tricks on my perception. I tried to recall the people I spoke to that fateful night, my memory muddled by the chaos and the subsequent trauma.

"I only remember talking to the officers there," I murmured, a hint of uncertainty in my voice. "But there could have been someone else. Someone who took the gun or planted it to frame you."

Timothy nodded, his expression grave. "Exactly. We need to figure out who else was there, Evie. This is more than just Andy trying to mess with me. It's about the truth, and we need to find it."

The car moved through the quiet streets, the weight of unspoken fears hanging heavily between us. The revelation of the gun and the unsettling possibility of a third party's involvement cast a shadow over our quest for answers.

As the paranoia seeped into my thoughts, I began to question every interaction, every shadow that lurked in the corners of my memory. The night of Bruce's death played out in fragmented images, each conversation and encounter now scrutinized for any sign of an unseen presence.

"Who could have been there, Evie?" Timothy asked, breaking the heavy silence. "Think. Anyone who might have had a motive to mess with us, someone who knew about the gun."

I racked my brain, retracing the steps of that haunting night. I could only think of my mother and her gun, but the two didn’t connect. "I can't think of anyone, Tim."

Timothy's frustration surfaced, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. "We need answers, Evie. We can't let this spiral out of control. Whoever is behind this has been playing games with us for too long."

The muted glow of the car’s dashboard lamp cast a soft illumination in the small space, which was growing more claustrophobic by the second. As Timothy drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, I wracked my mind for ideas.

"I can't let you keep that gun, Tim. We need to get rid of it before it causes more trouble," I insisted, my fingers itching toward it.

Timothy shook his head, his expression resolute as he pulled away. "Evie, I can't just let you dispose of it. That’s not your burden.”

I sighed. “Tim, it's evidence. Remember when they showed up at your apartment unannounced? You didn’t have the gun then, but imagine if they did it again, and you had it this time around.”

“It’s not like I’m going to keep it at the apartment. I’ll find someplace to put it,” he stated firmly.

My frustration flared. "Tim, you don't understand. If you're even caught with that gun, it could ruin everything. We can't risk having more incriminating evidence against you, even if you tossed it somewhere. Let me take care of it."

He scoffed, his anger bubbling to the surface. "Evie, this isn't something you can handle. I bought the damn thing, and I'll figure out how to get rid of it. Just don't worry about it for now."

I sighed, realizing the futility of arguing further. "Fine. But promise me you'll be careful. We can't afford any more slip-ups."

Timothy softened, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. "I promise. I’ll handle it, and it’ll be out of our lives."

The familiar sight of Timothy's apartment greeted us as we stepped inside the building, the subtle hum of city life filtering through the open windows. The weight of the night's revelations still lingered, but there was a quiet reassurance in the familiarity of this space.

"Evie, are you coming in?" Timothy asked, smiling softly as he glanced my way.

I nodded, smiling back. "Yeah, I’m right behind you."

Inside, it didn’t take long for Duke to confront us at the door, barking happily. I scratched him behind the ear and Timothy laughed as he went to fill his water bowl.

"Let's get changed and try to get some rest," Timothy suggested, his tired eyes trained on the water flowing from the sink.

I agreed, and we retreated to his room to change into more comfortable attire. The act of shedding the day's burdens and slipping into something more relaxed felt like a small reprieve. When I emerged, Timothy was already on the bed, and he beckoned me into his arms as I shut off the lights.

A brief silence settled between us as he ran his fingers through my hair. I relaxed as his warmth breaths hit the nape of my neck, and I laced my fingers with his.

"Tim," I began, my voice softening, "no matter what happens, I want you to know that I'm here for you. I loved you so much."

He leaned over and kissed me, then met my gaze with a sincerity that made my heart flutter. "I love you too, Evie. I don't know where I'd be without you by my side."

Before the weight of slumber claimed us, I whispered, "Goodnight, Tim.”

It didn’t take long before I was woken up by the sound of clattering along with the cool feeling along my body that followed. I awoke with a start, my senses alert to the subtle movements in the room. The soft glow of the moon illuminated the outline of Timothy, sneaking away in the middle of the night.

Panic gripped me as realization dawned. He was going to deal with the gun.

I spent a good part of the hour waiting, my senses on high alert, as the minutes stretched into an agonizing passage of time. When the door finally creaked open, I turned to see Timothy slipping back into the room, a haunted expression on his face.

"Tim," I whispered, crawling out of bed, "are you okay?"

He hesitated before answering, his eyes reflecting a certain weariness. "I got rid of it, Evie."

A mixture of relief and unease settled within me. "Where did you put it?" I asked, my voice carrying a subtle tremor.

Timothy's gaze faltered, and a shadow of uncertainty passed over his face. "I... I can't say. It's better this way."

"Tim, we can't keep secrets from each other. Not now," I urged, reaching for his hand.

He sighed, a heaviness in the air as he reluctantly spoke. "It won’t lead back to me. I made sure of it."

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me close in a protective embrace. I felt the tension in his muscles, the turmoil that lingered beneath the surface.

"Okay," I murmured, burying my face into his chest. "I trust you."

He held me tighter, as if seeking solace in the warmth of our shared embrace. "Evie, I promise you, I did what I had to do to protect us. The less you know about this, the safer we'll be."