She listened.
“I had to kill someone,” Winn stated. “I was sent in, and when I got there, they’d slaughtered children. I saw them all,” he stated.
Elizabeth didn’t say anything.
“Pieces of babies, and limbs of broken little ones. I killed him, Elizabeth, and I loved every fucking second of it. I took him apart, when all I had to do was put a bullet in his head. Instead, I let him feel that wrath so I wouldn’t keep it bottled up.”
He worried her rings on her fingers.
“And I’m good with it. JusticeALWAYSgets served. It might be served cold, or hot, but it gets to where it needs to go. Stop worrying about being the monster, and insteadFINDthe monster and deliver justice.”
She said nothing, but he could tell she was mulling over his words. Elizabeth, while a wild card, was a very methodical person. You could tell with how she did things.
Start.
Middle.
End.
She stayed on task, and got it done.
In the silence, he knew what she needed because after he had to do something distasteful, he needed something too.
Releasing her hand, Raphael pulled off his boots, and climbed onto the bed with her.
“Don’t tell Saint, but I’m going to cuddle a woman,” he said, trying desperately to make her laugh.
Anything at that point.
She did, a little bit, so that was another victory.
The storm raged, and Elizabeth knew what the water in her dream had to mean.
They were her tears.
They were each and every one she’d shed in her lifetime, as she waded through the blood and bowel of all of her choices.
“You’ve got this, Boo. If anyone can take him down, it’s you. I know everything is getting heavy, and you’re tired, but when he’s done, you’ve walked through the fire once again.”
She hoped that would be the end result.
In fire, maybe she’d be cleansed.
If not, she had a lot to think about.
And choices needed to be made.
Big ones.
* * * The Blackhawks * * *
The Reservation
Monday
Late Afternoon
Post Flower Delivery
