Page 97 of Guarded from Havoc

“Shit,” Erik mutters. “The records from the hospital said he wasfine. That he wasn’t a danger to anyone. I never would have…Fuck.”

“Do you know how long it took to get to you?” the man rants. “Weeks! First I had to figure out where your damn place is. Fucking Blade and Arrow. What kind of name is that? And you never fucking left. I had to wait in that shitty little town, driving up and down your fucking road day in and out until I sawyou twoleave.”

I poke my head out from behind Erik. “We didn’t put you on the island,” I say softly. “We were innocent victims, just like you.”

“Stay back.” Fear tinges Erik’s voice for the first time. “Tate.Please.”

“But he’s sick,” I protest. “He doesn’t understand.”

“Maybe not,” Erik retorts, “but he has a gun.”

“Please,” I try again. “No one wants to hurt you.”

“You tied me up!” the man shouts. “Left me there to die!”

Erik shoves me back behind him. “We didn’t. You came at us with a rock. I had to restrain you. But my friends, my team—they’re the ones who got you off the island.” He pauses. “Listen, man,” he adds in a pacifying tone. “I don’t want to hurt you. But you’re threatening an innocent woman. And I can’t let that happen.”

“Innocent!” The man cackles. “She’s not innocent! You’re both monsters! Killers! And if I don’t kill you, you’ll come back for me!”

Then he raises the gun that had begun to drift towards the ground.

The barrel looms large, dark and expanding.

My heart stops.

Please, God.

Don’t let Erik get hurt. Please.

Erik tenses.

Whispers harshly, “Drop to the ground.Now.”

So I drop to my knees.

Pray.

Erik whips the Sig out and fires.

The explosion of sound is terrifying.

The man shrieks.

Another gunshot follows.

Then Erik springs forward, so fast he’s nearly a blur.

I want to watch him. See what he does. See if he’s hurt. If he’s bleeding. But my muscles won’t work. They’re locked up. Frozen.

There’s a roaring in my ears.

Gray spots dance at the edges of my vision.

My head starts to spin.

I can feel my mind trying to shut down. To retreat.

It cries for the garden. For the scent of freshly turned soil and the aroma of roses. For Erik’s presence beside me, his hand on my back or holding my hand. For the place I feel safe.

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