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Paul can’t take his eyes off Jackal, obliterating the jacket. “Y-yes.”
“I have friends in law enforcement, Paul. I’ll check. If you don’t, then you’re fair game. Next time, you won’t see me. You won’t hear me. It will be a bullet to the back of the head.” I reach around his head and press against his skull. “Right there. A .50 cal so that your whole goddamn head explodes. That’s what you deserve for ever hurting my woman. My woman.”
I’m almost roaring again, but then the police cars pull up.
I stand and look at Katy, my whole being pulsing with what I just said, with what she heard. It was too much. Her eyes are wide and terrified like she wishes none of this had ever happened. I’m always going to be a reminder of this moment. She saw the devil in me, the savage. She saw how willing I was to kill this man mercilessly, even with Eli staring and crying.
“Car,” I snap at Jackal, and he turns and darts into the car, lying prone on the seat and gnawing on the remains of the jacket. “Jackal, drop.” The jacket falls to the floor. “Calm now, boy. Calm.”
I’m telling him, but I’m also telling myself. There’s so much emotion exploding in me, heat that makes no sense. It doesn’t belong in a city, a place with concrete and glass and artificial things. It belongs in an icy wasteland, just me, my woman, and my hound.
“Get on the ground, Katy. Put your hands behind your head.”
“Wh-why?” she croaks. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Those cops are driving here thinking it could be anything. For all they know, they might get shot the second they arrive. We need to look as harmless as we can.”
“What about Eli?”
“Leave him in the car. I’ll try to explain if they’ll let me.”
A SWAT van pulls up, along with two police cars, the officers running out. They scream at us to put our hands up, and as I watch them approach, I can see the ones who are trained and focused and those who are just plain terrified.
“The old man doesn’t have a weapon,” I call out in a loud voice. “Be gentle with him.”
Thankfully, I hear an officer behind me. “Sir, you need to come with me. Can you walk, sir?”
“Can I walk? I can dance! Why are you in a costume?”
Just like that, his tone is playful again. I sometimes wish it was that easy to forget for me.
I can’t look at Katy as the officers haul her to her feet. I can hear that they’re being gentle in their movements. Otherwise, I couldn’t see it without snapping, breaking out of these cuffs, and doing something truly animalistic.
“Is this dog going to be a problem while we wait for animal control?” a female officer asks me when I’m allowed to my feet. I can see Katy walking toward a car with two male officers. I clench my fists and shake my head. “Sir?”
“He’ll wait here for a hundred days if I tell him.”
Except his legs are twitching, just a little, as he watches Katy go. He wants to follow her, too.
CHAPTER 22
Sam
I’m sitting in a bar on the outskirts of the city. I’m going to do something cowardly now. I’ve already made some of the arrangements. Jackal is no longer with me, but I still want to speak with my woman.
Speak, but that’s not our world. Our world is one of writing, using texting as a shield so we don’t have to face the uncomfortable reality of us. That was, in the beginning, there was discomfort. Not now, but it’s all too much. I have to go. So why pull this stunt?
My phone vibrates. How did you get a phone in here?
The number is unknown, but I know it comes from my Katy. There’s no point being dishonest with her now… well, about some things, anyway. I can’t bring myself to tell her what I’m planning. It would cut way too deeply. I’ve got contacts in the police. I’m glad they were able to get the cell phone to you.
It was weird, she replies. The cops just left. Then somebody else came and gave me a cell, and there was a note. It said, ‘From your guardian angel’ I didn’t have to guess who THAT was.
Despite the circumstances and the fear inside me—fear of feeling, fear of losing her, fear of the new man I’m becoming—I can’t help but smile. She’s bringing so much light out in me, much more than I ever thought I was capable of. Is that why I’m running?
I’ll always be your guardian angel. Even if we’re not together, I’ll be that for you.
What does that mean? she replies almost instantly. I imagine her with panic in her wide, beautiful eyes, running a hand through her gorgeously messy hair. After a minute or so, she sends another text. If you’re not going to respond, why did you bother getting this phone to me?
