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A number of employees stream out of the building around five. Cars pull out but I notice that one beat-up white sedan bounces its way toward the entrance. I follow it down the driveway and watch as a man stumbles out, something dark and menacing gripped in his hand.
A tickle of unease skates down my spine. I straighten and start moving toward the stranger.
“Hey, there,” I call out.
The man spins around, bringing up the black piece, which is indeed a gun. I hear screams as people spot the weapon. The yelling panics the gunman, who begins to wave the gun around above his head.
“Stop running. Don’t move!” he screams.
I pause mid run, about fifteen feet away and then my worst nightmare happens. Dally steps out of the office. There’s a slight breeze and it lifts her hair off her forehead. She reaches up to pat her wayward strands down and somehow her gaze skips over the gunman to land on me.
“Hey, Mack,” she calls, waving a hand in the air.
The gunman turns. Everything happens in slow motion. His arm straightens while Dally’s hand flies to her throat. Papers in her hands fall to the ground. Someone behind me screams her name. My feet are in motion, hitting the pavement hard, but I don’t think I’m going to make it in time.
“Asshole,” I yell. “Fucking small-dicked, worthless piece of shit, asswipe. This way!”
My dumb, impulsive plan works and the gunman shifts away from Dally, only Dally doesn’t do what she’s supposed to do. She doesn’t run back into the building and she doesn’t hide. No, she rushes the gunman, whose attention starts to peel away from me.
I charge at him. “Look at me, fucker, look at me! I know you want a piece of me. I know—“
My next word is cut off when the bullet slams into my shoulder. It doesn’t hurt at first so I keep running until I’m on top of him. There is adrenaline streaking through my bloodstream and I don’t feel the next bullet that slices my side open. Instead, I feel his wiry frame collapse under my weight. Spittle coats the corner of his mouth.
“Fuck you, big man. Fuck you and your deep pockets and your connections and your lie.” His eyes burn into mine.
“Fuck you first,” I curse as I wrest the gun away from him and toss it to the side. “You needed something, you should have come to me like a human. Instead you choose the coward’s way—trying to gun down innocent people after a hard day’s work.” My heart’s beating so hard it might jump out of my chest. He couldn’t hurt my Dally. The thought of losing her is like a red cape being waved in front of a bull. I growl and dip my head down, my hand around his throat.
“You all need to die for the damage you caused. You all should go to hell.”
I squeeze harder. “Not until you do.” I keep up the pressure. The man’s grip around my wrist grows slack. His eyes bulge and then fall shut as his head lists to the side.
“Mack, are you okay?” Dally cries as she reaches my side.
“He’s passed out.” Her face is so close and I wanna kiss her.
“I don’t care about him. I’m asking if you’re okay. Oh my God. Did you get shot? Denise! Call an ambulance right now. Mack, Mack, please stay with me.”
Dally’s voice seems far away, like she’s halfway across a football field. I squint, but my vision’s blurry. I have to tell her something important but I can’t remember what it is right now. The side of my chest and my shoulder feel like someone put a hot iron against my skin, yet the rest of me is ice cold. I grab for Dally, but come up empty.
“Darling, darling, I’m right here,” I try to tell her, but she doesn’t hear me. “Darling.” And then it all goes black.
Chapter 9
Dally
“Dally!” I jerk up, flying out of my chair when I hear my name shouted. For a brief moment I don’t remember where I am but it all comes flooding back to me. The panic subsides as I realize where I am and that this is now the fourth time that Mack has awoken in a sheer state of panic, shouting my name. I rush over to his hospital bed.
“I’m fine.” I grab his hand, trying to calm him. I don’t want him ripping out another stitch. When he calls my name it’s a feeling of terror and relief all at the same time. The thought of what could have happened almost overwhelms me until I remember that he’s alive and breathing. He can wake me up a thousand times and I would be grateful for each and every one of them as it’s proof that he’s still here with me.
