Page 191 of No Rules

A wolf will always defend his she-wolf.

Sanchez is thinner than Dan, but he’s faster, more skilled. I slam him to the ground with all my weight, but his knee meets my thigh muscle. I swallow a grunt of pain as he tries to clock me with his gun.

“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you both,” he says with difficulty.

My hand sends the gun flying and I slam him back down.

“I’ll send you to meet your father instead, you motherfucker,” I mutter between my lips. “You messed with the wrong people.”

He tries to pull away, but my fingers wrap around his throat and I squeeze with all my might.

“Tucker!” shouts Iris from behind me, still locked in the chair.

She wriggles and nearly falls, taking the chair with her.

I’m bleeding and my muscles are tired, but I don’t let go. I need to vent all my hatred in turn. I was betrayed. Iris was betrayed by trying to shatter the new life she was trying to build here. Why would I let him live?

But I think of my girl begging me not to kill him.

“He deserves to die in prison,” she continues in a weaker voice. “Don’t let him win, don’t let him destroy your life by killing him. I want him to rot in a cell.”

I hear her words and part of me wants to listen, but that would be too simple. My revenge isn’t over. He hit her! He made her bleed! He deserves to have me take care of him.

“I need you,” Iris gasps, struggling to breathe. “Don’t let me down.”

These words immobilize me. Don’t let her down.

I know what she’s trying to do, she’s getting inside my head and into my pores to make me see reason. She doesn’t want me to end up behind bars for killing Sanchez.

The latter loses consciousness in my grip, and I turn my head towards Iris. Seeing her in this state, her face damaged, hurts me more than the blows I received tonight. Her eyes are filled with tears.

Sanchez is not dead yet. I know he’s only passed out, but I release him and drop down in front of Iris’s chair, struggling to untie the rope that holds her wrists.

“Iris,” I whisper, pulling her to me after freeing her. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for. For letting her down a few days earlier. For pushing her away when the only thing I needed was her. Because I couldn’t see how else to do it. Because I still can’t see, despite all my feelings for her threatening to boil over.

She clings to me, her head buried in my neck. I don’t let her go, unable to pull her away. Her chest presses against my torso, and I feel like I’m stabilizing a little bit.

If I hadn’t gotten there first…I…no, I don’t want to think about it!

I hear footsteps at my back just as Iris stiffens in my arms. I know it’s not Sanchez, he’s still passed out beside us.

“Dan…” Iris whispers.

She tries to push me away, so I release her and straighten up, turning to the one I considered my best friend a few hours ago. He sniffs, blood and tears on his face. He has retrieved the gun I had knocked away and holds it in his hand. He stares at Sanchez for a few seconds, then at me, then at Iris, longer. He looks at Sanchez’s swollen face, as if disoriented…as if he was trying to stay connected to reality but had no grip on it.

“Put the gun down,” I articulate through clenched teeth.

“Please, Dan. Think back to our conversation, think of Debbie,” Iris begs him, sitting up with difficulty beside me.

“I didn’t know that Sanchez’s father killed your parents,” Dan begins, raising his gun in our direction. “I just…I just wanted everyone to suffer like I did. I wanted to break you, Tucker. You killed Debbie, we killed her. I…I killed her, too. She should have woken up, Tucker! But she’s dead! I killed her.”

He sobs softly. He seems to be finally reconnecting to reality. Guilt is choking him. I raise both hands in the air, trying to appear calm when I am absolutely not. “Her accident wasn’t our fault, Dan.” I don’t really mean that, but I try to calm him down as best I can. “And after she died…the doctors said that…they told me that she wouldn’t have woken up anyway.”

“I miss her.” Another tear rolls down his cheek. He wipes his nose with his free hand, sniffing constantly.

“And I miss her too,” I say. “I miss her every day that she’s gone. But I also know that she would have liked us to live, Dan.”

---