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"Wren..."
She'd stopped crying, and her chin was set with determination. "I want to kill Tommy." Oh yeah, she was serious. That look in her eye was deadly. Sexy as hell, but full of fire.
"You can't, baby."
"I want to."
"How you planning to do that?"
"I don't know."
Exactly. "I'm not one hundred percent sure you're serious, but killing someone in cold blood could get you locked up for life if you follow through with that shit. It won't change the past. He may or may not end up in prison at the end of this, but you can't plan to kill him."
"You said you'd killed people. You said even the day I met you, you'd shot someone."
She had me there. I killed several men that day. "I did, but that was different. We were on a mission in Guatemala to rescue a kidnap victim. It's different. Combat rules apply. The enemy will try to kill you first, so it's life or death. Tommy isn't directly threatening you right now."
"Except for the bomb and the gun he pulled on me."
"You can't claim self-defense with that if you hunt him down and kill him. You don't want to go through a trial for murder. Trust me. You even know how to shoot a weapon?"
"No."
"Then leave that to me. If I get a chance to put a bullet in him, I'll take it, but I know the rules, and I know how to stay out of the slammer. Alright?"
She nodded. "Have you ever had someone you wanted to kill really bad but couldn't because it was illegal?"
Man, that little therapy session with Fiona was sending my girl down a dark path. "Yes."
"Who?"
I looked into her eyes, and she was pleading with me to share. I didn't tell this story to anyone, but something about Wren had me spilling my guts lately. "Let's sit down."
I walked her back to the couch. She took another sip of water, less shaky this time, and settled next to me. I pulled her close, and she fell against my chest with a heavy sigh.
"There was a woman. My foster mother. Katrina blew through and destroyed New Orleans. My bio mom was an addict. Child services placed us with this woman who told me and the judge she'd provide a safe home for me and my siblings. That we'd be better off away from my mom. The bitch lied. She lied like your grandfather lied, and I ain't got no patience for that." My arm tightened around her shoulder, and she placed a palm flat on my chest.
"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry." She peered up at me with her innocent eyes. I hated telling her this ugly truth about me.
"We were not safe from her oldest son. He was twenty and still living at home."
"Did he hurt you?"
"Many times." I trailed my finger over her cheek.
"Oh no, Mag."
"She was wrong. She took advantage of us when we were on the outs. I wanted to kill her for lying and allowing us to get hurt. I wanted to kill her fucked up son for making me feel so powerless."
"Did you do it?"
"When I got my hands on my first weapon, it was my primary thought, but I didn't want to spend my life in prison. I was already in the Navy, and I knew I could make more of myself. Saved my life enlisting early."
"Do you know what happened to them?"
"They're both in prison now."
She smiled and it was nice to see it on her face again.
