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Killer by Jessica Gadziala (8)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eight

 

 

 

Shooter

 

 

 

 

I stepped into the hall, raking a hand down my face. What the hell was that? We had something there. When she turned in my arms and I really got a look at her, sans grief, I saw her. I actually saw her. She wasn't hiding anymore. And the way that she responded to me, each tiny touch sending off sparks through her whole system... fuck. I didn't even want to get started on how she tasted, like sunshine, like something I could taste every day for the rest of my life and never get sick of it.

"I knew it was her!" Alex's voice said, surprising me.

"What?" I asked, watching her leaning against the wall beside my door, her arms crossed.

"The girl in that apartment. I saw her the other night when she was coming in. One look at her and I knew she was the one that has you with those moon-eyes."

I looked back toward Amelia's door. "You saw her?"

"Yeah, she kinda stopped dead when she saw me, like I surprised her. I said hey; she said hey. Then she went into her apartment."

I looked up at the ceiling, shaking my head. "Fucking Christ."

"What?"

"She thinks we're fucking, pumpkin," I said, letting out a long breath.

"Ironic, huh?" Alex asked as I opened the door for her to step inside.

"What is?"

"The one time you're not being a slut and you get accused."

"She didn't accuse me. She just... avoided me all day yesterday. Probably would have done that today too but she was sad and lonely and I was there."

"Comforted her, did you?" she asked with a coy smile, making wide birth around Millie on the floor.

"Sure. Until she kicked me out."

Alex was silent for a moment then let out a humorless laugh. "Losing your skills, huh?" she asked, trying to ease the tension that had worked itself into my shoulders and jaw. "Shooter," she tried softly, reaching out to touch my arm. "Go explain; or I'll go explain. Don't just stand here looking like a kicked dog."

"What the fuck does it matter?" I asked, feeling frustration flood my system. "I'm out of here tomorrow anyway."

"Don't leave it on this note, Shoot. She was wrecked today. She wasn't thinking straight."

I felt myself nod tightly. "So you and Break heading out tonight?"

"As charming as the accent here is, and believe me, it's charming," Alex said, shrugging. "I want to go back to a place where no one talks to me when I pass by them on the street. Do you know how many people stopped us and asked us how we knew you the past two days?" I went to shrug, but she kept going, "Thirty-nine, Shoot. Fucking thirty-nine people. I don't think I've talked to thirty-nine people all year back home. I miss that- everyone being an asshole."

I felt a chuckle rise up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, grinding my knuckles into the hair at the top of her head. "You're not the tough nut you think you are, sweetheart."

"Shh. Don't let that get out. I have a reputation to keep," she said, wrapping her arms around me for a hug. "You're really coming back tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I have a job next week. 'Sides... there's nothing for me here."

"Okay," she said, giving me a squeeze before moving away. "Good luck wrestling that demon cat into a travel carrier," she said with a wicked grin as she made her way to the door.

I waited. I figured maybe she needed a minute to put her walls back up; maybe she was embarrassed of being open with me. So I was giving her time. In fact, I gave her till early evening, being a complete creep and listening for signs that she was awake and moving around before I walked out into the hallway and knocked on her door.

There wasn't so much as a pause before her footsteps stopped and the door opened; so she either didn't expect me to show up and therefore didn't check the peephole, or she decided she was going to be cool, snippy Amelia and push me away. Judging by the way her mouth fell open when she saw me, yeah, it was the former.

"I told you to go."

"And I went," I said, tucking my hands into my pockets. "Now I'm back."

"And you're unwelcome."

She tried so hard, she really did, to seem mean and bitchy. But the fact of the matter was, she was neither and she didn't even play act at them well. "I want to explain something to you, baby. And you're gonna listen. You can slam the door in my face if you want, but I'll just yell through it and let the whole floor know our business."

"There is no our," she corrected, wanting so badly to believe it.

"Sure there is, darlin'. And it seems you got something confused at some point the night before last. I want to set that to rights."

Her eyes flashed, "Oh, I'm not confused at all, Johnnie. In fact, things are crystal clear to me."

"You weren't getting out of this town without that beer you promised me!" Dade's voice called, and I craned my neck over my shoulder to see him walking down the hall toward us. "I'm holding you to it," he said, gesturing with the six-pack in his hand. "Pretty lady," he said, winking at Amelia who seemed completely immune to his charm. Funny, that. "How are you holding up, honey?" he went on, his head cocked to the side, looking concerned. "You had a rough day."

"It would be much better if you got him out of my doorway," she said with a haughty chin lift.

Dade gave her a small smile. "Want to join us for a beer?"

"No thanks, Dade. I'm tired."

He moved forward, shouldering me slightly out of the way in doing so, making me step out of the doorway. Whether it was to carry out her wishes or to make his move, I wasn't sure. His hand moved out to close around her wrist, giving it a small squeeze. "If you need anything, honey..."

"Thanks," she cut him off, offering a closed-lip smile that nowhere reached her eyes. "Enjoy your beer," she said, moving back and closing the door.

"Fuck was that?" I asked when Dade turned back to me.

"What?" he asked, innocently, moving toward my dad's apartment.

"Shouldering me out of the way?" I asked, closing the door behind me, watching as he put the beer on the counter and reached out to pet Millie, who let him.

"You're ugly as sin, cat," he said to her as he popped his beer. He took a long swig before answering. "What are you doing messing with that girl?" he asked, shaking his head. "You're out of here tomorrow, man. Don't you think her heart is broken enough as it is?"

"So that was you making a move?" I asked, feeling annoyance rise up. "Case you were wondering, she tastes like fucking sunshine."

Dade's brows raised for a minute, taking another sip before he let his breath hiss out of his mouth. "Ain't like you to kiss and tell. You're better than that."

Fuck. He was right. I sighed, accepting the beer he held out to me, twisting off the top and drinking half the bottle in one swig. "Wanted more time with that one," I said honestly. It was true.

"What's stopping you?" Dade asked and there was a glimmer of hope there that reminded me what a selfish shit I had been. He wanted me to be around. He wanted our friendship back.

"Work. Break and Alex. Paine. I have people back home."

"Ain't saying you need to uproot your life, Johnnie. I get it. You've put down some roots. Just sayin', don't mean you can't have wings too. Hell, I got an empty apartment at the ranch. Come through between work and life stuff. Visit. See Amy."

"Amy?" I asked, gaze shooting to his. That was too... familiar for my liking.

"Amelia," he corrected, trying to hold back a smile.

"You call her Amy?"

"I'd call her fucking Cleopatra Queen of the Nile if she would give me the time of day."

I half-snorted, half-laughed, shaking my head at him. "That short for tail in this town? You all gotta sniff after her?"

"She's different, ya know? Ain't all about how she used to be a cheerleader and makes the best peach cobbler. Girl has something else going on for her. Ain't got no delusions, though man. Asked her out twice. Don't need any more kicks to my ego. She ain't interested. I won't be making a move on her."

He meant it as a comfort to me. I reached for another beer. "Kinda prefer it'd be you then some other dumb fuck around here."

"You callin' me a dumb fuck?" he asked, pretending to be offended.

"Oh, you're a dumb fuck alright," I smiled, tipping my beer at him.

"Wanna fight? I'd take your skinny ass."

He was right; he would. Things had changed a lot. "Just sayin'... least I know you ain't a dick."

"You got feelings for her?" he asked, brows drawn together. "Like... other than wanting in her pants?"

"Just met her," I hedged.

"When the fuck has that ever mattered? It is or it ain't. Don't need a fuckin' year to suss out a connection. That shit takes minutes."

I clicked my tongue, shaking my head at him. "When the fuck did you grow a brain, man?"

"Psh, fucking junior year, man. Remember Brainy Bonnie? With the glasses and acne and fifty extra pounds?"

"Yeah," I nodded, image popping into my head like no time had passed.

"Grew five inches. That weight seemed to settle in her tits and ass. Got some contacts, some skin cream that did wonders. Fucking before and after worthy of a teen movie shit."

"And?" I asked, starting to smirk.

"Well, I suddenly found myself in need of some tutoring," he said, giving me a smile. "Between some good times in the back twenty," he said, referring to his dad's ranch, "she managed to beat some knowledge up in me."

"You owe her some flowers," I laughed.

A companionable silence fell as we moved to sit in the living room. "Heard about the diner incident," Dade finally said, lips twitching.

"Stupid backwoods fucks."

"You always carry a gun?"

My eyes went to his face, weighing how much I was willing to tell him. "My job? It involves guns."

"The kind you need to keep concealed and on your body at all times?" he asked and I could see he was putting two and two together. Brainy Bonnie strikes again. It wasn't that he was stupid when we were kids; he just wasn't that bright either.

"Something like that, yeah."

"Kinda figured you weren't no accountant," he said with a shrug, letting it drop, knowing better than to pry. "Your friends, they're in your line of work?"

"Sort-of. Not exactly the same. Break is more similar. Alex works in... computers."

"And that Paine guy? What the fuck kinda name is that anyway?"

"His real one," I laughed. "He's a tattoo artist."

"Spend a lot of time with him, I see," he said, waving toward my body.

There was a weight behind those words. "Dade... I'm gonna come back and visit. I travel a lot. No reason I can't swing through every now and again."

I could see him visibly relax at my words. "Good. But just so you know, you ain't gonna sweep in here and fuck her life up every time, though man. Know you're a good guy and you don't wanna be a dick. Also know everything about you screams 'I get loads of pussy'. So just letting you know, won't let you do that to her."

"Always liked that quality, man," I said, shaking my head.

"What quality?"

"Protective. Even when you didn't have good reason to give a spit about me, you looked out for me. Good thing to have... even if you're being a cock block."

"Psh, way her eyes were shootin' daggers at you, no way your cock was getting anywhere near her anyway."

I let out a loud sigh, getting up to get another beer.

"Yeah. I know."

 

 

 

 

--

 

 

 

 

I wrangled Millie into her carrier with more ease than Alex would appreciate, grabbed my bag, and headed out the door. I paused for the barest of seconds to look at Amelia's door, wondering if I should go over and try to smooth things out. But, in the end, what was the point? I was as good as gone. She had made up her mind about me. Better she just assume I was a dick.

I had just made it to the bottom step leading outside when I heard voices. Don't ask me why I paused, but I did. I paused and I listened.

"Just for a couple minutes. Offer me some sweet tea."

"No, Luis, not today," Amelia's voice reached me and I felt myself tensing.

Who the fuck was Luis? And why was he trying to get into her apartment? Was he the rich dick who owned the apartment building? Despite better sense telling me I was being a creep, I leaned around the corner to see the man in question reach out and stroke Amelia's cheek in a familiar way. She didn't flinch away either. My eyes moved from her face to the man and I froze.

No fucking way.

No fucking way was that the guy she was dating.

Jesus Christ.

He was tall and thin with angular features and dark eyes. See, he wasn't looking at me; I couldn't see his eyes. But I knew they were dark. I knew this because I knew him.

"Alright, Amelia, darling. Maybe tomorrow," he said, kissing her cheek and walking away.

Something in me broke loose, something low and petty and unfamiliar, making my smile turn more into a sneer as she rounded the corner, yelping when she saw me. "Who was that, angel?"

Her back straightened; her walls slipped into place. "I don't see how that is any of your business."

"Is that your boyfriend?"

"So what if it is?"

I couldn't help it, the laugh rose up and burst out. The memory of her calling me nasty names for my lifestyle floated around my head.

"What is so funny?"

Recovering, I shook my head, still smiling huge. "Karma is, sugar."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

I chucked her gently under the chin. "Why don't you ask your boyfriend how he knows me, huh, angelface?"

She rolled her eyes at me as I walked past. "You don't know him. He's new here."

I turned around as I stepped out of the front door. "Ask him," I said, turning and walking away.

I climbed into my rental car, still grinning huge. Fucking hell. What a turn of events.

I pulled the car out of the lot and down the street, expecting to feel relief and peace at leaving the backwoods, bumfuck town behind. Instead, all I felt was a sensation of unfinished business. I pushed it down, trying to focus on anything but the things that would make me want to turn the car around and rush back into that apartment building and spill it all.

That couldn't happen.

That was done.

I had to go back home.

And Amelia had to stay where she was.

That was the end of it.