Page 47 of Gator's Gambit
Focusing on Fancy and having a good evening, I push the troubling thought to the back of my mind and give my attention to the evening ahead – to sharing good food, laughs, and a great evening with terrific people.
The hours just fly by, and the place is getting ready to close by the time we call it. Exiting the building, the square is pretty deserted due to the late hour, and still we stand around chatting and laughing. It’s clear the ladies aren’t ready to say good night just yet and are contemplating finding somewhere to go for late night drinks.
“Oh, darn it.” Kathleen pouts up at Scooter. “I left my cellphone on the table.”
“Okay, hang tight. I’ll go check if someone’s still there.”
He jogs off, and the conversation resumes as we wait for him to return. Out of nowhere, my only warning a loud gasp, a pair of strong arms band around my chest, yanking me back hard. Caught off balance, I’m dragged backwards, and I feel the cold, hard steel of a weapon bite into my temple.
“Nice and easy folks,” a voice calls out from behind me. “We wouldn’t want to splatter brains prematurely. I have a few things I’d like to share before we do.”
Without thought, my gaze seeks immediately goes to Fancy, but hers is focused on the person behind me, horror stamped on her face.
“Evan.” She reaches out a hand toward him.
“Yes, ma’am. Told you I’d come for you, didn’t I?” He stops abruptly, a fair space between us and everyone else. “I warned you what would happen because of your lies and deceit. My Angelique is gone because of you, and we’ll be going to join her shortly. But before we do, I want you to feel the pain I did when she died, so I’m going to take your love away from you. And I’m going to make you watch as I do.”
“Evan, I’m sorry you feel that way, but Angelique didn’t just die – you killed her. You’re the reason she’s gone.”
“Shut up,” the man screams. “Shut up, you fucking bitch.You’rethe reason she’s gone. You lied – misled me. You said the love of my life was about to reveal herself, but you lied.”
“No, that’s not true. You assumed that’s what the card meant, and I tried to caution you that you were seeing things that might not be there. Remember?”
“Lies.” It’s clear the man is hanging onto the last single, fraying thread of sanity, and Fancy isn’t helping.
“Er, Pooks, you might want to reconsider your argument under the current circumstances.” It’s clear the moment my words sink in as she claps a hand over her mouth.
Out of the corner of my eye I notice Knight, Lucky, and Digit edging closer, widening the circle as they go. Suddenly the gun disappears from my temple and is, almost immediately, replaced at the base of my skull.
“Back up, fuckers. I see you.” The weapon disappears yet again, and before I know it, a few shots ring out in succession. The harsh sound is incredibly loud, and I jerk hard from the unexpectedness of the shots. The ringing in my ears makes it hard to hear but, as if from I long distance, I hear someone scream. “I won’t tell you again. Back. The. Fuck. Up.”
The gun goes back to the base of my skull, and we backpedal some more. I watch as the guys usher the women around the side of the nearest building to keep them out of firing range, but Fancy refuses to budge. She’s standing like a stone statue, out in the open, her eyes pinned to a point behind me, so I’m guessing she’s looking at her stalker.
Once again, we stop. This time a cruel hand grips my neck, putting pressure on me. “Get on your knees, asshole.” My instinctive response is to resist, but he’s already too twitchy. It’s quite possible he’ll blow my head off just to be done with it, and then there’s no chance of protecting Fancy.
Doing as I’m told, I sink to my knees down onto the brick surface of the square.
Faintly, I hear Fancy call out. “Please, Evan, don’t do this. This is between you and me. Take me. It’s me you want anyway. Leave him be. Please.”
“Oh no, my dear deluded soul. Don’t you see? That’s the beauty of this. I get to watch you suffer as I did when I kill lover boy here. And only then will I end you. When I know you’ve experienced the heart-shredding devastation of watching a loved one die.” Evan’s hand shakes and spittle rains down on me as he screams at Fancy.
At a standoff, I’m weighing my options when I hear him cock the gun in his hand. “Time to say goodbye, bitch.”
“No, Evan, please,” I hear her call out again, pain and panic clear in her distraught tone, even through the Godawful ringing in my ears.
Everything happens all at once. I gather myself to push backwards and knock him onto his ass to buy the guys precious seconds to take a shot. But before I get the chance, a single shot rings out, and I brace for the biting pain of a bullet ripping through me that never comes. And then all hell breaks loose.
It takes my brain a few seconds to catch up and realize that Evan Alexander isn’t the one who fired the shot. He is, in fact, lying on his back unmoving, blood spreading in an ever-growing pool on the bricks beneath him, a single bullet hole in his forehead. His glazed eyes staring sightlessly up at the night sky. And over the ringing I can hear the sound of sirens close by.
“Oh my God, Bean. Are you okay?” I’ve barely made it to my feet when Fancy rushes over to where I’m standing, flinging her arms around my neck. Rocking back on my heels, I absorb the impact and hug her tight to my body.
Shock setting in, my body begins to shake as the adrenaline begins to recede. I’m deeply grateful that Alexander grabbed me and not her. I close my eyes against the images of Fancy lying on the ground instead of him, and I have to swallow the bile down.
“Dude, you need to ease off your girl, man. I’m surprised she can get any air into her lungs,” Dutch says, giving my shoulder a squeeze that speaks volumes. Considering what happened with Sage, I know he gets where my head is at in this moment.
“Who took the shot?” I ask, easing my grip on Fancy.
“Scooter,” Dutch replies as I take a tiny step back so I can see into her face. I nod my thanks at him. “Shit, baby, I didn’t do any damage now, did I?” I ask Fancy, switching gears.
