AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I bit down on my lips and almost wept at her words, at how much they meant to me in so many ways. An old wound throbbed somewhere behind my sternum. I’d left a man behind once. I’d never gotten over that. But Missy, she wasn’t like me. She was so much more.
Something inside of me broke. This good, kind, lovely woman had risked her life, gone against her beliefs, used a gun, and killed someone to protect me.
What a waste of goodness.
It was my fault that her pristine soul now bore the mark of a life taken.
I crushed her against my chest and brushed my lips on her forehead. “I’m so sorry, Angel. I know you didn’t want to use a gun or kill anyone.”
“I didn’t kill him,” she whispered so quietly I almost didn’t hear her.
I drew back and studied her face. “You didn’t?”
“He was right. I couldn’t do it.” Her liquid gaze shifted from the dead man, to the gun on the ground, and then to me. “All I’m good for is fainting.”
The grimace that twisted her face hit me hard. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.” Her shoulders dropped. “I couldn’t pull thetrigger.”
“But if you didn’t kill him, then who the hell did?” I asked, frowning.
“That would be me, ye big hunk.” Sister Janet stepped up, holding the gun I’d given her in her hands. “I killed the feckin’ shitehawk. The good Lord forgive me, but good riddance, I say. The world needs less of them and more of yerselves.”
Chapter Twelve
Missy
Almost six hours later, we walked out of the nature reserve dry but filthy, exhausted but alive. We’d barely stopped a few times to drink some water and give the little donkey a break. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, fearing Snake’s return with more mercs coming after us.
God, I really hoped I wouldn’t faint again.
The stress had done me in. I was so furious with myself, with my stupid, defective vagus nerve, which had betrayed me in equal measure by making me unable to pull the trigger and protect Javier and my friends when they needed me the most. I was like one of those helpless dames in the old movies, always too weak to do what had to be done, always in need of rescue, a walking, talking cliché.
I dug my nails in my palms. I hated myself so much right now.
As we trekked on, patches of dry mud clung to my shoes and legs, and the heat and humidity of yet another morning on the run tested the last of my strength. I needed a shower, a meal, and a bed.
We all did.
Stalking ahead of me, Javier raised a fist in the air. He’d trained us well. I stopped under the shade of the trees, and so did the little donkey that carried the nuns.
“Stand by,” he whispered. “I’ll be right back.”
He moved forward before he disappeared into the jungle. I thought I detected some stiffness to his gait. Earlier, the cocky jackass refused any care until he “finished his job.”
After the fight was over, he’d recovered his weapons, cleaned them quickly, and made sure they worked. He’d tracedSnake and confirmed he’d made his getaway in the motorboat. He’d had a lot to say about that, mostly in profanity. Next, he collected the mercs’ electronics from the nuns then tossed the dead bodies in the waterlogged swamp. It was only then that he allowed me to patch up the bloody slash on his biceps.
Despite his protestations that he was fine and apparently used to being punched, knifed, and shot at with alarming regularity, I took pains to disinfect, stitch, and cover the wound with a clean bandage from the supplies I’d packed in my backpack. I’d also injected him with antibiotics from a syringe I found in his streamlined medkit.
If the merc’s blade had struck a few more inches up and to the side, it could’ve sliced open Javier’s throat. I wouldn’t have been able to bring him back. My skin crawled at the thought.
I made an effort to block the terror of last night out of my mind. The donkey stomped a hoof on the ground and snorted. The nuns and I waited together in silence. After everything that had happened, what was there to say?
Sister Janet and Javier had carried the day. They’d done what needed to be done to survive. Me? Not so much. I’d hesitated and then I’d fainted. How pathetic was that?
I’d failed Javier, the sisters, and myself.
On a different note, my nightmare about the snakes had not come true. This was a relief. Not every terrible dream I had would become reality. Or maybe, the snakes in my dream had been a metaphor of the tattooed mercenary that had been about to shoot Javier when I got there. Who the heck knew?
