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Her eyes are closed, and I ... I notice her shirt. Torn. Ragged.
What has this monster done to her?
I want to reach out and take her in my arms, ask her if she’s alright, but I know how dangerous this situation is.
If I alert her assailant in any way, I might risk him pulling the trigger.
I grab the binoculars in my pocket and look through them closely at the gun.
His finger is on the trigger, and I shoot just as he squeezes it, ready to pull.
I don’t know what came over me or how I managed the miraculous feat - but my gunshot hit him straight in his face.
Good fucking luck. He crumbles to the ground, and so does Emily.
I scramble down the mud wall towards the clearing, needing to get to Emily as fast as possible.
Is she alright? Did she get hurt? She’s still lying on the ground, face down. Did his finger pull the trigger as he fell from the impact of my shot?
If anything happened to her, I would never be able to forgive myself.
As I draw closer, I see her body shaking -- she’s crying. My heart breaks at the sight of her in tears. But relief washes over me as she looks up, acknowledging my presence.
She’s so tired that, at this point, nothing seems to surprise her. I scoop her up into my arms and hold her tightly.
“It’s okay,” I whisper, “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”
As I help her from the ground, I try to avoid looking at her shirt. The tears have stained her face, and her hair is a mess.
She looks at me, and I can see the fear in her eyes. I want to wipe it away and replace it with something better that would give her a sense of security.
“Thank you,” she says softly, her voice still trembling.
I stroke her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear.
To my surprise, she wipes away her tears and steps back.
“Okay then,” she says, taking a deep breath. “You can go.”
“I can go?” I ask incredulously. “Emily, you were almost killed!”
She flinches when I say her name. I wonder why.
Just then, I hear voices behind me.
“Boss,” I hear one of my men yell. “We heard a gunshot. You okay?”
I can’t allow them to see Emily in this state. Without thinking, I pull out my jacket, reach her, and put it across her torn shirt.
“I don’t need it,” she says, her pride larger than her need. She tries to take it off and hand it back to me, but I grab her hand. “Emily, just let this one go, please. You do need it.”
I then turn and motion at them to join us down here.
“Get rid of his body. Make him disappear forever.”
“Who is it, boss?” one of them asks.
I look at him, my eyes narrow and dark. “None of your business. Do as I say.”
