12

 

Three earth shattering shots echoed off the surrounding buildings as Kevin pulled the trigger in quick succession. Chase drew a gun, pointed, and returned fire, squeezing off a single shot before jerking backwards. Blood sprayed from his upper body as he spun around and landed face down on rock-hard cement.

The motorcycle careened out of control, and both rider and machine fell to the asphalt, skidding, bouncing and rolling. The haunting sounds of scraping metal and gunshots abated, and Kevin’s shadowy silhouette lay motionless, sprawled on the street.

Sierra crawled on trembling knees toward Chase. It took all of her strength to roll him onto his back, exposing his blood soaked shirt. Sierra choked on a sob. “Dear God, save him. Don’t let him die.”

Chase’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, and Sierra searched his pale face for signs of consciousness, but found none. Sierra’s hands roamed his neck, chest and arms as she looked for more wounds. Kevin had fired several times. How many bullets had torn into Chase’s flesh? What kind of damage had been done?

As the questions sank in, Chase’s blood continued to seep out. Crimson stains surrounded a hole torn in the material, growing into a wider circle. Putting her shock aside, Sierra pressed her palms against the gushing wound in his upper arm. An acrid scent filled her nostrils and tears fell haphazardly down her face as the possible implications whirled through her mind. Chase could bleed to death on the cold, unyielding sidewalk, all because he’d been protecting her.

Heavy boots scraped and crunched on asphalt as Kevin climbed to his feet and staggered around the downed motorcycle. Streetlights illuminated his cruel expression as he approached, and blood dripped from a deep gash running from temple to jaw.

In desperation, Sierra searched for Chase’s weapon. She spotted the gun several feet away, lying useless, leaving her at the mercy of a man who held deadly intent in his gaze.

With narrowed eyes, Kevin spread his legs wide and slowly lifted his arm, pointing a pistol straight at her. “It’s your turn.”

Sierra held her breath, waiting for the explosion that would end her life, but when shouts erupted from the diner, Kevin let out a curse, backed away, and shoved the weapon into his jeans. He struggled to lift the heavy motorcycle, but managed to bring it upright.

“This isn’t over.” Kevin hissed, with one last fleeting glance at Sierra. He kicked the ignition and revved the engine, tearing off down the street.

Footsteps approached and sirens wailed in the distance as Chase’s blood seeped through Sierra’s fingers. “He’s gone, Chase. He’s gone. Wake up. Please.”

“Are you all right?” A woman’s breathless voice came close as she knelt beside Sierra.

“I…I’m OK. But Chase isn’t.” Sierra looked aside to find the waitress dressed in yellow kneeling close.

“The ambulance is on its way.” She placed a hand on Sierra’s shoulder. “What on earth happened? Why would someone want to hurt your boyfriend?”

“Because of me.” Sierra answered, not bothering to correct the waitress’s assumption. Guilt slammed her, making her voice waver. “Kevin shot Chase because of me.”

“You know who did this?”

Before the woman could ask any more questions, police cars with sirens wailing, screeched to a halt. Flashing blue lights wound around Chase’s pale face as he lay unconscious. The scene before her seemed surreal as if she were on the set of an action packed movie, only in this case no director stood around to yell ‘cut’, and real blood oozed from the hero.

“Help,” Sierra whispered. “Help him. He’s been shot,” she cried.

Hands gripped her shoulders. “Move aside ma’am. We’ve got him.”

Sierra released Chase, scooted away and sat, drawing her knees to her chest as EMT’s and various authorities swarmed the area. One EMT checked Chase’s vitals while another pressed a thick gauze pad against his wound.

A young police officer spoke into his radio. “Officer down. I repeat, officer down.” He used codes and various numbers Sierra couldn’t decipher. Her gaze dropped to her hands. Chase’s blood began to dry and cake, darkening into a sick, dingy hue. Voices drifted in and out as dizziness ensued. Resting her forehead on her knees, Sierra took deep, steadying breaths and closed her eyes as seconds, minutes or hours passed. She couldn’t tell. Time took no meaning as her world collapsed around her. Again.

A warm blanket surrounded her, and Sierra opened her eyes. A blurry officer swam before her. Blinking away tears, she addressed the man with concerned, gray eyes peering down. “He’s out there. Hunting. Stalking. He won’t stop until I’m dead.”