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The town square was then filled with gunfire and death, blood, and pleas for help. It never should’ve happened. We should’ve been more prepared. Hindsight is always eye-opening, but it shouldn’t have taken the loss of three civilians. This town deserved more than they got from us that day.
Looking around, I see Cerberus and Blackbridge, a security team from St. Louis, everywhere. All of us are armed, but we’re once again just standing and walking around, interacting, while also being vigilant about what’s going on. I’m both mentally and physically exhausted, realizing that maybe staying up all night with Beth, albeit fun, wasn’t the best idea.
I think I’ve always been wrapped in a false sense of security. My job with Cerberus has us gearing up and infiltrating extremely dangerous places. We can turn those skills on when we need to. It’s a vastly different animal to just be standing out in the open and waiting for shit to pop off.
I suddenly feel caged, trapped, although I’m surrounded by nothing but open air.
Everyone who was there that day was required to go through counseling sessions with Dr. Alverez. We’re not strangers to blood and violence, but every other altercation I’ve been involved in was overseas in the Marine Corps or in some shitty third world country. Those villains brought that battle to this sleepy town last year, and the citizens will never be the same because of it. No matter how hard they try to get back to normal.
Chase thanked me earlier for being here that day despite losing his mother, and I don’t know if I’ll ever possess that type of grace. I haven’t forgiven myself for my failures that day, so I have no idea how he can forgive me or anyone else in Cerberus.
With a deep pull of air into my lungs, I scan the crowd, locking eyes with Kincaid, the Cerberus president and the man calling the shots today. With a subtle dip of his head, I know that I’m now off the clock. There were three organized shifts today, and I was scheduled for the middle shift. I was able to chat and get to know people when we first arrived, but after two hours, I had to pay more attention. Not that I haven’t been paying attention to my surroundings all day long.
I’m absolutely drained, and I can tell by the way Beth’s feet have slowed that she’s about done with this day as well.
I walk past Newton, dipping my head in acknowledgment. He volunteered for extra time today, taking both first and last shift.
“Shit,” I snap when she stumbles at my side. “Are you okay?”
“There’s a dip in the ground I wasn’t prepared for,” she says.
I turn to face her, sort of obsessed with the way her eyes shine as she looks up at me.
“Are you ready to get out of here?”
She swallows as she nods. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“Same,” I quickly agree.
We walk back to the parking lot where I parked her car earlier. I pull open her door for her, not missing the little smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. It seems she likes it when I’m a gentleman, but I know for a fact, she likes me when I’m not just as much.
I shake my head as I walk around to the driver’s side of the car, telling myself that I shouldn’t let all those thoughts fill my mind. We haven’t discussed exactly what this is going to look like—our very real but also not marriage.
Her car makes that awful squeaking noise again when I crank it.
“I don’t think this thing will make it to Farmington,” I tell her when I pull the gear shift back and reverse out of the parking spot.
“That’s the hottest thing ever,” she says.
I grin even before I realize what she’s talking about.
“Reversing?”
“That whole hand on the back of my headrest, head turned back. It’s hot.”
I huff a laugh. “Kind of a requirement when you don’t have backup cameras.”
She pulls in a deep breath, but I don’t get the feeling that she’s annoyed with my assessment of her vehicle.
“I think it might be best if you just got on the plane with me tomorrow.”
“Plane? Tomorrow?”
I avoid looking at her because there’s a threat of disappointment in her response and, honestly, I shouldn’t feel disappointed if she changed her mind about coming to New Mexico.
“We’re leaving about midday tomorrow,” I explain.
“I’ve never been on a plane.”
I can’t help but stare at the woman. It’s the twenty-first century. I assumed that every adult had flown at some point in their lives.
“How do you travel?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t.”
“Have you ever been out of the United States?”
She shakes her head again as I pull into the small parking lot in front of the row of duplexes.
