Page 105 of Fabulous Filthy Friend

He can’t be.

“Ma’am, what did you say? Do you need police and rescue?”

Flynn snatches the phone from my hand as I stare out at the body on the driveway, the rain falling around it. So still. No movement.

Oh, my God.

Did I just kill someone?

“Ma’am, a man just came and threatened me at gunpoint. My girlfriend smashed something over his head to prevent him from shooting me, and now, I think he might be dead on my driveway.”

I vaguely hear Flynn’s side of the conversation over the rushing of blood in my ears, and I stagger slightly. Flynn wraps an arm around me to steady me, tugging me against his side and pressing his lips to the top of my head.

Flynn listens to the operator and rattles off his address. He shifts me until I’m leaning against the doorjamb for support and steps away, mumbling lowly into the phone, clearly not wanting me to hear whatever he’s saying.

Alicia and Cade’s door opens across the street, and they both come rushing out.

Cade grabs Alicia by the arm to hold her back halfway across the road. “Rach, what the hell is going on?

“I…” My mouth won’t work. I can’t even form the words. “I…”

They make their way across the yard and into the foyer, and Alicia pulls me into her arms. The heat of her warm body wrapped around mine doesn’t help with the bone-deep chill making me tremble.

Cade rushes past us toward Flynn, but their voices blend together in the background.

Alicia squeezes me. “Are you okay, Rach?”

“I think I just killed that guy…th-that shouldn’t have killed him. I-I don’t understand…”

She pulls back and glances out the door toward the driveway. “What happened?”

“He-he-he was going to shoot Flynn. I-I didn’t have a ch-ch-choice.”

Alicia pulls me back into her arms and squeezes me tightly. “Oh, my God. It sounds like you didn’t.”

I don’t know how long she holds me, but eventually, her embrace falls away and another set of warm, familiar arms engulf me. Flynn’s soothing scent, mingled with that of fresh rain, fills my lungs, and I inhale deeply and press my face against his soaked chest.

He buries his face against my neck and holds me tightly, lightly pressing his lips to my damp skin. “You saved my life, Rach. You had to do it. Don’t feel guilty about doing what you had to do.”

Don’t feel guilty…

It’s a strange statement coming from him, someone who seemingly carries it around like an old friend. But somehow, his words calm me, allow me to release some of the panic and tension gripping my body.

I cling to him because I don’t think my legs would hold me up right now if I tried to stand on my own, and because he’s always been my rock. The loss of Mom, then Dad, being out here in California on my own…through all of it, he’s stood by my side and ensured I always had what I needed. And he’s giving me the same now.

Reassurance that I did the right thing.

Confidence that there wasn’t any other choice.

Strength to hold it together when I want to completely fall apart.

He pulls back slightly and takes my face between his palms. “What did you hit him with, anyway?”

I swallow through my dry throat. “My garden gnome.”

His brow furrows. “What?”

I nod slowly as the events of only a few minutes ago return in a flood of vivid memories. “When you pulled my hands off your shirt and started to walk away from me, I saw where things were going. He was crazed. He wasn’t going to stop until you were dead.” Tears flow freely down my cheeks. “I backed up slowly, hoping he wouldn’t notice because he was so focused on you. And I reached over the hedge and grabbed my gnome, then ran around the back of your house and came up behind him.”

---