Page 58 of Target Me
He laughed, the mirthless sound crawling through the space like a shadow extinguishing the light.
“The next day Adrien was dead. You put in your discharge, and he pulled the kill order. Everything wrapped up nicely for everyone. You get to live. The General gets to play politics and fuck up lives on a national scale. And what about me?!” He screamed the last words, spittle flying through the air as tears leaked down his cheeks.
“He doesn’t get to walk away from this. He took my family, so I can take his. Don’t you get it? This is justice.”
It was madness. Unable to take any more, I stood, bringing Avery with me as we walked toward the door with an apologetic glance at Bear.
He nodded, turning back to our friend with a look of deep sadness on his face.
“Don’t make him deal with it alone,” Avery whispered. I realized her cheeks were as wet as Damon’s had been. “He needs help.” It took me longer than it should have to realize she was talking about Damon. She was right, of course. He needed psychiatric help, and fast.
Patting my hand, Avery pulled away from me and took a couple of stumbling steps back toward the house. When I tried to help, she batted my hands away, pointing resolutely back at the boathouse.
“Yell if you need me,” I said, pinning her with a look that promised a lot of things I needed to say.
Bear was unwinding the ropes from around a sobbing Damon when I walked back in.
“That shoulder looks bad, man. You might need to get that seen to,” I said, helping him stand.
“Yeah,” Damon said, voice flat now that his story was out. We took a step toward the door behind Bear, pausing as he turned back toward us.
“No!”
Time slowed, Damon slipped out of my grip, growling as his shoulder tweaked and grabbed the handgun from the table. I whirled, throwing my hand out, but I was moving through molasses, and as tough as I was trained to be, nothing was faster than a speeding bullet. Superheroes didn’t exist.
When a firearm is discharged in close proximity, hearing protection is always recommended to avoid damage to the ears. The thought, while appropriate due to the deafening blast that rattled my skull, was nonetheless unneeded as the back half of Damon’s head exploded into the river behind him. The weapon slipped from between his teeth and hit the floor at the same time as his lifeless body.
“Logan!” Avery’s scream echoed through the trees outside as Bear and I stood frozen, eyes fixed on our fallen comrade.
“Oh my God! Logan.” Closer now, small arms wrapped around me, a golden head tucked under my chin, holding me up. Holding me together.
“Avery,” I breathed, and it was a prayer I didn’t deserve to have answered.
She squeezed me, waiting for my mind to clear the odd fog that had invaded it. My ears rang so loudly I could barely hear Bear as he crept forward, his shaking hands checking for a pulse despite the fact Damon’s brain was probably already a couple of miles downriver.
“We need to get out of here,” I said, my voice sounding foreign.
“We need to call nine one one,” Avery said, fishing in my pocket for my cell. She was so smart. I had to tell her.
“I love you,” I blurted. She paused mid-dial and stared at me.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t wait until after you’d saved me from a kidnapper and witnessed him blowing his brains out to tell me that. You get a redo. I want chocolate, sex, and absolutely no gray matter present when you do it. Understand?”
I nodded, unsure what else to do.
We waited on the riverbank for the emergency services to show up. Bear, Avery, and I stood in a shocked little line trying to figure out what the hell we could tell people.
It turned out we didn’t have to.
The death was ruled a suicide. A soldier pushed too far who had developed an obsession with the General’s daughter. By the time we returned to Avery’s house, once the authorities were done questioning us, the General was in residence, and his office was spotless. He thanked me for a job well done and escorted me out of the house with an exorbitant severance check.
“I told you there was money in personal security,” he said with a wink.
“Actually, sir. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
His face clouded into a dangerous expression I’d never seen before. I knew I didn’t necessarily need to talk to him, but I hoped it would make Avery’s life easier if we played nice. And ignorant.
“I’d like to ask Avery to move in with me. It looks like I’m the sucker willing to take your daughter off your hands.” I felt sick saying the words, but the wry twist to his mouth told me he remembered our conversation from Adrien’s funeral.
