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Authors: Dahlia West

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BOOK: Shooter (Burnout)
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“You don’t have to-”

 

“I decide what I have to do and what I don’t,” he bit out and she once again pressed her lips together.

 

“First. Deanna. I didn’t lie to you about needing to work late. I did. And she drove by, happened to see my bike, and stopped at the garage. I’ve known her a long time. Hadn’t seen her in a while. Didn’t think she’d just show up at Tex’s house uninvited and start trouble. Most of what she says is bullshit. I don’t do her without a condom. I’ve never done a woman without a condom. Not even my high school girlfriend when I was young and stupid. I was never too stupid to know better. Had a few break. Worked out okay.

 

“And, no, I don’t know why I’m telling you that except that it seems to me that kind of thing goes along with being a lying bastard, planting my seed all over town with no regard for the consequences. That’s not me. That’s not who I am. I’m sorry she confronted you. I’m sorry she spewed a lot of hateful shit at you. She will never bother you or any one of us ever again. I can’t do any better than that.

 

“And Jimmy.” He paused, looking at a shard of glass in his palm. “I don’t know what to do about that.” He placed the sliver of glass on the towel, folded it up and took it with him to the garbage can. Frowning at the receptacle he said, “He was our Sapper, our Combat Engineer. He only just graduated from Ranger School and got his tab. He wasn’t officially assigned to the 75th yet, so he never got his scroll.

 

“Ranger training is the most difficult combat course in the world. Some guys don’t even survive to graduate. They drown, or freeze to death. Hawk and Tex were out to prove who had the bigger dick and I went along for the ride, that’s the only reason we signed up for the course. But Jimmy was a lifer. Had his heart set on being an officer.

 

“His old man wasn’t really his old man. Or at least that’s what his mother used to yell when she’d get drunk. So he had a hairy eyeball for Jimmy ever since he was in diapers. Jimmy thought he’d go back to New Orleans in his dress blues and show the old man that he was a son worth claiming, blood or no. When the bomb went off, we all scattered. Jimmy, Doc, and I got pinned down away from the rest of the unit when we came under fire. Doc had his kit and we were trying to stop the bleeding. But it was bad. And we knew it. And worst of all, Jimmy knew it. He was terrified, and kept looking at his leg, and finally he looked at us and begged me to shoot him.”

 

Hayley gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

 

“Tex was on the radio, called out that calvary was on its way, fighting through enemy fire to get to us. But they weren’t far out, Tex said. ETA was only ten minutes. So I told Jimmy that I would kill him. But that he deserved better than a bullet to the head like a lame horse. So I held his hands. And he closed his eyes. And we prayed together. And while his eyes were closed, I gave Caleb the signal not to do it.

 

“So Jimmy never got the lethal dose of morphine he was begging for. Caleb only gave him enough to settle him down. Jimmy woke up in the hospital, missing his leg, knowing he’d never wear those dress blues, and that I had betrayed him. Jimmy’s a Catholic. Don’t know much about that except I’m assuming somehow that asking someone to kill you is a kind of suicide loophole they’ve got, because Jimmy doesn’t seem to be able to finish the job on his own. Not that I would ever want him to. If he just looked around and saw what was waiting for him...

“He’s got his mind. He can walk. Could do it even better if he put some real effort into it. He’s got his hands, for working on engines, which is about the only thing he ever really loved. He’s even got his left foot, so he could easily ride if he wanted to. He won’t go home, ‘cause he doesn’t want to face the old man. So I set him up here for his recovery and offered him a job he won’t take and a house he won’t live in. I don’t know if he’s staying to punish me, or what the hell he’s doing. I gave him a photo of our unit, like you said. The five of us and the four that didn’t make it. To let him know we didn’t forget.

 

“And I thought it worked a little. But the other half of his problem is that because of me, he has to go on living this life that he absolutely did not want and that scares the living shit out of him. And you got caught in the crossfire, because I’m pretty sure next to dying, the only other thing Jimmy wants is to prove to everyone that I’m the rat bastard he thinks I am.”

 

“No one who knows you would agree with him,” she replied. “It was an impossible choice, Chris. One he had no right to ask you to make. No one can hold it against you. He’s angry. And afraid. You’re just the easiest person to blame.”

 

Chris sighed and took hold of her hand. He brushed his thumb along the bandage on her finger. “I’m sorry,” he declared.

 

“I’m not hurt,” she told him.

 

It was only a tiny wound. And a tiny lie, to match.

 

*******************

 

The next afternoon, Chris and the boys trekked to Maria’s for lunch. They did that more often these days. Hayley was serving, with the usual smile, which brightened when the boys came through the front door. They took a table close to the entrance.

 

Milo sauntered in and took the booth next to the guys. Hayley brought him a draft. He saw her hand and took hold of her wrist. “What’d you do, girl?”

 

Chris half-scowled. He was still pissed at yesterday’s events. He’d never meant to throw anything in Hayley’s face. He’d been careful not to show too much interest in women at the bar, not to bring them home. It felt wrong somehow, even though he and Hayley had nothing going on between them.

 

Hayley smiled at Milo. If she was harboring any hurt feelings from Deanna’s tantrum, it didn’t show on her face. “Well. I woke up yesterday morning and as usual I thought to myself, ‘How can I be more like Milo?’ ”

 

Mile rolled his eyes. “Shit,” he muttered.

 

Hawk chuckled.

 

“You’re a legend, Milo,” Hayley continued. “How could I
not
want to be like you? So at first I thought I should shave my head.” Milo grunted. “But I don’t think that’s a good look for me. And I don’t drink nearly enough beer to get that sexy paunch you’ve got going on there.”

 

She reached out and patted his belly which make him jerk and then laugh. “Well, the ladies do love it,” he insisted and Hayley nodded.

 

“I’ve heard the laments of widows and spinsters throughout the Black Hills. ‘Love ‘em and leave ‘em’ is definitely your motto,” she confirmed. “So the answer seemed obvious,” she said, holding up her finger. “But I’ve got to be honest, Milo, at the first sight of blood, I just gave up. I really don’t see how you had the stones to do it. That is really, truly badass territory, cutting off your own finger like that. I can never be like you if that’s what it takes.”

 

Milo grinned. “Only one Milo Perkins,” he declared.

 

“The legend continues,” Hayley agreed.

 

Milo laughed. “Alright, alright. Go fetch my lunch.” Hayley turned and headed to the pass to put in Milo’s usual. Milo picked up his glass and took a sip. “That one’s got a mouth,” he told the guys.

 

“Full of sass,” Tex agreed.

 

“Sass. That’s about right,” said Milo, nodding. “I like her.”

 

“She’s one of the good ones,” Chris confirmed, watching Hayley gather empties at the bar.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 18

 

 

A week later, Chris opened his front door to the delicious smell of whatever Hayley was making in kitchen.

 

“You’re late,” she chastised, calling to him over her shoulder as she arranged plates and bowls in the island.

 

He smirked and strode around the breakfast bar. “Yeah, sorry. I was out getting pussy.”

 

Hayley faltered in her task, but pressed her lips together and continued to look at the plates in front of her. “Well, wash up for dinner. Before it gets cold,” she told him in a softer tone.

 

“Sure.” He took hold of her upper arm and turned her around. “Here. Hold this for me.” He pressed a large white cotton ball against her chest and moved toward the sink.

 

A pair of bewildered eyes, one green and one blue, blinked up at her. Hayley dropped the serving spoon onto the island. “Well, hello there,” she said, closing her arms tighter around the tiny kitten. It climbed up her chest and rubbed its face against hers, a low rumbling started.

 

“She’s deaf,” Chris declared, drying his hands on the towel. “Owners didn’t want her. She can’t ever go outside, too vulnerable, and they don’t want to clean a litter box.” He took a beer out of the fridge and popped the cap. “I better not see claw marks on the furniture,” he said sternly. “First time will be the last time.”

 

“Awww, look how adorable you are!” Hayley crooned as the nuzzled the tiny thing. “You’re so pretty! Look how pretty you are.”

 

“Slick, I just said she’s deaf,” Chris chastised.

 

She glared at him then looked back at the purring creature. “Well, we don’t care, do we?” she asked the kitten. “Oh, no, we don’t. We’re not gonna let a little thing like that get in the way of anything, are we?” She gasped. “Look! Look what I have!” She dipped her finger into a bowl of sour cream and held it out. The kitten grabbed her hand and attacked the treat. The rumbling intensified. “We’re going to need a collar, and some bowls, and a little bed, some toys, and-”

 

“There’s a litter box, a bag of litter, and a half empty bag of cat food in the truck,” Chris informed her. “The rest of that stuff is on you.”

 

Chris and Hayley ate fajitas at the table while the kitten attacked his boots in the corner. Then she attacked the cord to the table lamp, and climbed up his couch to perch on the back. He grimaced as he watched. Hayley grabbed the tiny hellbeast and set her on her lap to finish dinner.

 

“I am not kidding, Hayley,” he announced from his chair as she picked up the kitten in one hand and her empty plate in the other. “No destroyed furniture. I’m not-” He was cut off by Hayley leaning down and pressing her mouth to his. It was a closed mouth, chaste kiss, but it went on for several seconds.

 

“Thank you,” she told him quietly when she pulled away. “Don’t be fooled by the big, scary man,” she whispered to the kitten. “He’s really very nice. But don’t scratch the furniture anyway.”

 

********************

 

The boys had settled in for dinner on Poker Night. Hawk had a drumstick in his hand when he dropped it suddenly. “
God damn, what the hell?!
” he shouted, leaning back and looking down.

 

“Peppermint!” Hayley shrieked and dived under the table.

 

“Um,” Tex said, catching Hayley’s precariously tilting empty chair.

 

“Ow!” Hawk yelled, trying to twist out of his chair.

 

“Pepper, no!” Hayley scolded from underneath the table. “No, no!”

 

Hawk gripped the edge of the table and ground his teeth together. “Obviously, I am now paying for some earlier thoughts I had along these lines.” Chris reached out and clipped Hawk on the side of the head. “Earlier!” Hawk pointed out. “Way earlier!”

 

Hayley climbed out of from under the table, holding the wayward kitten to her chest. “Pepper,” she said firmly. “We don’t attack the boys. No, no, no. We
like
the boys.” Hayley picked up a sealed package of tuna off the counter. “Come on, let’s get your dinner.” She headed off into the laundry room.

 

“What the hell is that?” Doc asked, eyeing the fluffball’s retreat in Hayley’s arms.

 

Everyone looked at Chris who merely shrugged and picked up another roll to butter it. “Cat.”

 

“You don’t like cats,” said Doc.

 

“I don’t
hate
cats. I just never been around one really,” Chris clarified. “That one’s fine.”

 

“That one’s
mean
,” Hawk pouted.

 

“No, she’s not. She’s just…got sass.

BOOK: Shooter (Burnout)
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