Hope Survives Even After Maps Are Burned by Niro Mason 30

 

-Hailey- 

The station smelled like burnt coffee and disinfectant. Same as it had last night. Everything was too bright white that hurt your eyes. 

— 

the kind of 

I sat in a metal chair, at a table that was bolted to the floor. A clock ticked somewhere behind me, too loud. Logan had followed me here on his bike, but he wasn’t allowed in – *protocol,* they’d said. 

Knowing he was somewhere down the hall didn’t make me feel any less alone. 

Officer Andrews sat across from me, her uniform crisp, her hair pulled back tighter than it had been last night. She didn’t smile. The softness I’d seen before was gone. Professional mask. By the book. 

— 

Next to her was someone new a man with gray hair, in a gray suit. He had sharp eyes and a notepad he hadn’t stopped tapping since I sat down. Detective Becker. 

Andrews slid a folder onto the table. “We’re just going over your statement again,” she said evenly. “Some details we’d like to clarify.” 

Clarify. Right. 

My chest felt too small for the air I was trying to pull in. I nodded once, staring at the folder instead of her. The stack of papers inside it was thin, but it looked heavy enough to crush me. 

Becker leaned forward, pen poised. “Start from the beginning, Ms. Conway.” 

The clock ticked. My pulse ticked louder. 

I swallowed hard. “Like, the beginning of our relationship?” I whispered. 

He looked irritated. “Last night, Ms. Conway. What were you doing at his house?” 

I took a deep breath, prying my fingers off the edge of the table. “I went to talk to him,” I said. “Try to get him to see reason.” 

Becker’s 

pen scratched across the paper. “And how did he react?” 

The clock ticked louder, like it was mocking me. “He was angry,” I admitted. “He…” I trailed off. 

His pen scratched some more. “You said he reached for a weapon. You’re sure about that?” 

My throat went dry. “Yes.” 

“Where was it?” 

“His waistband. Right side.” 

He nodded slowly, not writing it down this time. “Thing is, the only gun we found was in the living room cabinet. Ten feet away. Safety still on.” 

My stomach flipped. “No. That’s not possible. He was reaching for one.” 

“Maybe.” Becker leaned back, crossing one leg over the other. “Or maybe you fired without cause.” 

Andrews shot him a look. “Detective—” 

He held up a hand. “Just exploring the facts.” His eyes found mine again. “You sure you remember clearly, Ms. Conway? 

 

Night like that, adrenaline pumping… things tend to blur.” 

I could feel my pulse in my wrists, in my throat, in the tips of my fingers. The walls seemed to pulse with it. 

And then the smell hit me – smoke and metal and something sharp that didn’t belong in the real world. The memory crashed in… the way his eyes went wide, the way his body fell. 

The echo of the gunshot tore through me. 

My chest seized. The air turned thick, like I was breathing through wool. I heard my name – Andrews saying it, maybe twice but my hearing tunneled until all I could make out was the faint ring of that shot. 

I gripped the edge of the table again, hard enough that my nails started to bend backward. 

Andrews’s chair scraped the floor as she stood. “Hey. Hailey. Look at me.” 

I blinked, and the room snapped back into focus. The walls, the light, the clock ticking. Becker looked vaguely uncomfortable for the first time since I’d met him. 

“Sorry,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “I just… I saw it again.” Andrews’s expression softened, just barely. “Take a minute,” she said quietly. “You’re doing fine.” 

I nodded, even though I wasn’t fine. Not even close. 

“He… reached for his waistband. I panicked. He’d pulled a gun on me before, and I didn’t want him to hurt me again.” 

Becker’s eyes narrowed. “So you shot him.” 

“Yes,” I whispered. My hands trembled in my lap, and I clenched them into fists. “I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to kill him.” 

Becker’s pen stopped moving, and he glanced at Andrews. 

My voice came out rough. “He said if he couldn’t have me, no one could. He threatened to kill me.” 

 

Becker tilted his head. “I didn’t see a report on file about that incident.” 

“Then you didn’t look very hard.” 

The silence that followed was so complete I could hear the fluorescent lights humming above us. 

He shifted, uncrossing his legs. “So when you saw him reach-” 

“I thought I was about to die,” I whispered. 

The words hovered between us, raw and too real. I hadn’t planned to say them, but once they were out, I couldn’t take them 

back. 

“So, you didn’t intend to kill him.” 

The question landed like a strike to the ribs. I stared at the folder between us could ruin my life. 

– 

the one with my name on it, the one that 

Then I looked up, met his eyes, and said, “No. I didn’t intend to kill him. I intended to survive.” 

Andrews exhaled softly, the smallest sound in the world, but I felt it like a hand on my back. 

“Tell us about the gun,” Becker said. “Where did you get it?” 

My stomach twisted. “I found it.” 

 

“You found it,” Becker repeated. “Ms. Conway, I’ve been doing this a long time. I can tell when someone’s lying. Did Logan Nash give you the gun?” 

I stared at my hands. I could taste bile in my throat. 

Becker raised an eyebrow. “Logan Nash. From the Warriors MC.” 

“No. I found it.” 

Becker’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. 

I clenched my jaw. “I know how it looks, me staying with Logan. But he isn’t what you think.” 

Becker leaned back in his chair, tapping his pen against the notepad. “And who do you think he is, Ms. Conway? How long have you known him? Because I’d be willing to bet I’ve known him longer. He’s spent an inordinate amount of time behind. bars in this very station.” 

My entire stomach was in my throat now. I didn’t know what to say. 

Andrews glanced at Becker, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Detective,” she said, her tone sharp. “Let’s stay focused here.” 

Just then, the door swung open and a woman walked in like she owned the place. Her heels clicked across the floor and her dark pantsuit was immaculate. Her silver–streaked hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, and her expression was stoic. 

She didn’t look at Becker or Andrews her 

― 

eyes locked onto me, sharp and assessing. 

“Sorry, I got here as quickly as I could,” she said, her voice calm but carrying an edge that made even Becker straighten in his chair. “I was in a meeting when Jake called me.” 

She set her briefcase on the table with a deliberate thud, finally turning to the cops. “Kat Sterling. Defense attorney for the Warriors MC. There will be no further questions today.” 

Becker’s jaw went tight. “Ms. Sterling, we’re almost done here. Why don’t-” 

“Detective,” Kat interrupted. She turned to him fully, her gaze like ice. “My client has answered your questions. If you have further inquiries, you can direct them to me.” 

Andrews leaned back slightly, and I caught the faintest flicker of relief in her eyes. 

Becker’s pen tapped against his notepad. He looked like he wanted to argue, but Kat’s presence filled the room, leaving no space for pushback. “Fine,” he said tightly, standing. “But this isn’t over.” 

Kat didn’t flinch. “It never is, Detective.” 

He left the room without another word, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Andrews lingered, her eyes flicking between me and Kat. “You’ve got a good advocate,” she said quietly before following Becker out. 

The door clicked shut, and Kat turned to me, her expression softening just enough to be reassuring. “You okay, Hailey?” 

I nodded, though my hands were still trembling under the table. Yeah. Thank you.” 

She pulled out the chair Becker had vacated and sat down, her movements deliberate but graceful. “You did well,” she said, flipping open her briefcase. “But you don’t have to answer their questions without me present. Ever. Understand?” 

“I understand,” I whispered, squeezing my hands together to stop the shaking. “I didn’t think I had a lawyer.” 

Kat pulled out a tablet and tapped the screen, her eyes scanning whatever document she’d pulled up. 

“Becker’s fishing,” she said nonchalantly. “He’s looking for cracks, anything he can use to twist this against you. But here’s the 

Chapter 30 

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thing – he doesn’t have much to work with. Your statement holds up, and Andrews is on your side. That’s a rare win in cases like this.” 

I swallowed hard. “So… what happens now?” 

She looked up from the tablet. “Now, we wait. The DA will review the case, but given the circumstances, it’s highly unlikely they’ll press charges. Self–defense is clear–cut here.” 

I nodded, though the knot in my stomach didn’t loosen. “And Logan?” 

Kat’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Logan’s a separate issue. Becker’s fixated on him on the club. He’s trying to tie this back to them. It won’t work.” 

When we stepped into the hallway, Logan was there, pacing. He nodded to Kat, then froze when he saw me. 

“Done?” he asked. 

I nodded. My throat was too tight to speak. 

He reached for my hand. “Let’s get you outta here.” 

For now, that was all I needed. Just his hand in mine, and the door closing behind us.