The Edge of Night Read Online Free PDF Page B

was juiced from the chase and spoiling for a fight.
    He got a little something extra.
    Castillo clung to the fence with his left hand and reached into the waistband of his pants with his right.
    In the next second, Noah was staring down the barrel of a .22.
    His entire world ground to a halt. The moment seemed magnified somehow, sharpened by his senses, every detail in extreme focus.
    He could smell Castillo’s sweat. His own sweat. The dim haze from the parking-lot security lights bathed them both in a pale orange haze. Castillo’s eyes appeared black within black, feral, inhuman.
    Castillo pulled the trigger. The gun clicked. And then, nothing.
    It took Noah a second to realize that Castillo hadn’t disengaged the safety. As Castillo remedied that mistake, Noah brought his right arm up, knocking the weapon aside. It discharged in an earsplitting blast.
    The bullet ricocheted off the block walls all around them.
    Noah jerked Castillo away from the fence and slammed him to the ground, facedown. Hard enough to stun him. “Put your hands behind your back!”
    This time, he cooperated.
    Noah wrenched his arms back and cuffed him, searching the pockets of his baggy pants. His hands were shaking from the near miss, his mind racing in a dozen different directions. Both he and Castillo were breathing hard.
    There was a small bag of white powder in Castillo’s front pocket. The sight of it filled Noah with fury. “This is why you pulled a gun on me?” he said, tossing the bag on the asphalt. The tattoo on Castillo’s neck stood out in harsh relief, his pulse throbbing beneath it. “For an eight ball of coke?”
    Noah didn’t mention Lola Sanchez, but he wanted to. He wanted to give Castillo another hard shove. Slam him into the asphalt a few more times. If he’d raped and murdered a defenseless young woman, he’d earned the rough treatment.
    Instead of lashing out at Castillo, Noah took a calming breath. Getting physical with a suspect after he’d been restrained was never a good idea. Noah was a conscientious police officer, and he liked his arrests to stick.
    Patrick appeared at the end of the alleyway a moment later, his gun drawn. Noah imagined the scene through Patrick’s eyes, and it didn’t look pretty. The suspect was facedown beneath him, shirt torn, nose bloody.
    “Officer Young, stand down.”
    Noah climbed off Castillo, feeling woozy.
    “He fired at you?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Have a seat.”
    Noah slumped against the wall, closing his eyes. He was still breathing heavily, his heart pumping with adrenaline. His lungs were burning and his knuckles felt raw. Patrick called in their location, and backup arrived within moments.
    Several officers patted Noah on the shoulder, praising him for a job well done. He didn’t deserve it. Officers were trained to consider every suspect armed and dangerous, but Castillo had caught him off guard. Noah should have expected a documented gang member, convicted drug dealer, and possible murderer to have a gun.
    He’d been careless. And if Castillo had been quicker on the trigger, he’d be dead.
    Castillo started to grumble about police brutality. The blood on his face had dried into a macabre black caul. With his huge pupils and shaved head, he looked like a fucking ghetto vampire.
    They cleaned him up and took him away.
    The crime scene photographer took a photo of Noah’s hands. They had blood on them, his and Castillo’s. He cringed at the sight, hoping he wouldn’t be accused of excessive force. He’d been close to losing control for a minute.
    “I scraped my knuckles on the side of the wall,” he said, remembering a flash of pain as he took Castillo to the ground.
    “I don’t care if you scraped them on that asshole’s face,” Patrick replied, giving him some foam hand wash. “A guy who resists arrest, carries a concealed weapon, and takes a shot at you? He’s lucky you didn’t beat him senseless.”
    “He was fast.”
    “On his feet?”
    “With the gun,