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“It’s okay. It seemed like less than a second, I heard another shot and I felt—”
Dylan gasped. “Are you telling me you were shot again?”
“Yes, it hit me in the upper back, below my shoulder. That shot sent me to my knees and I fell forward. I could hear the men yelling, but then everything went dark. The last thing I remember was knowing I was bleeding out and I was dying.”
“Oh Alex, I am so sorry. When did this happen?”
“Three years ago.”
“What about the other three agents? Were they okay?”
“We were all shot; and we think Creed was even beaten before he was shot. He was in a coma for months and can’t remember anything about that night, but Mac—” Alex cleared his throat. “Mac didn't make it out alive. Eli blames himself because he couldn't save him, even though his own gunshot wound stopped him. There wasn't anything he could do to get Mac out of there in time.”
Dylan sucked in a breath sharply thinking about what they’d gone through. “I'm so sorry, Alex. Had you known him long?”
“For seven years, he’d joined MDOL when he was twenty-three and died at thirty with a pregnant wife waiting for him at home.”
“That’s heartbreaking. I don’t know how you continue to do your job after something like that happens.”
“It’s tough, but it’s my job, and I love it. Just like other law enforcement officers who know the risks but continue to work hard every day. I know I make a difference.”
“I understand, but it still makes me nervous thinking about it. What happened to the rustlers?”
Alex clenched his jaw. “They got away and have never been caught.”
“Do you think they’ll come back after you?”
“I wish they would,” Alex said with an edge to his voice.
“Still, weren’t you wearing your vests?
“Yes, we all were. It’s protocol, but they shot at us with armor-piercing bullets. Nothing could have stopped them.”
“I’m sorry for your loss. Your friend and fellow agent.”
“We couldn’t even go to the funeral. Eli and I were in the hospital while Creed was in a coma.”
“That must have been devastating.”
“It was. Still is. I think about Mac all the time, but there wasn’t anything we could do.” He glanced at the aquarium, and back at her. “That’s what the aquarium is for. We all had to see a therapist to discuss that night. I hated it, but it helped. She suggested the aquarium. At first, I thought she was nuts, but once I got it. I’d sit in the chair beside it and just watch the fish.” He looked at her. “It really helped me relax.”
“Did she tell all of you to get aquariums?” Dylan smiled.
Alex grinned. “She just made suggestions. She even said to watch old cartoons, saying they can bring up feelings associated with happiness and comfort, reminding us of the capability to move past worries, and for some, escapism is the best form of dealing with anxiety, and cartoons can provide a safe method for this coping mechanism.” He shook his head. “I don’t know about that. I didn’t try watching cartoons, but the aquarium made a difference for me. That night still bothers me. Especially since we didn’t catch them, but I sit, and watch the fish. I can’t tell you how much it helps.”
“I believe you. I can see how soothing it would be. Maybe that’s why they have them in doctor’s offices. To relax the patients.”
“I never thought of that, but it’s very possible.” He took her hand in his. “Is Zoey asleep?”
“Out like a light. She’ll sleep until morning.” Dylan stared at him, and he stared right back.
“Is that right?” he murmured.
She moved closer. “Yes.”
His hands cupped her face, and he leaned forward, and pressed his lips to hers. Dylan sighed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He pulled her onto his lap and deepened the kiss.
He slowly raised his lips and gazed into her eyes.
