K. Lynn - Reciprocity

“Drew helped me.”

He cursed under his breath. “Motherfucker.”

“We went over lunch. And I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you freaking out and stressing any more than you were.”

“Where’s your other gun?”

My eyes widened, flickering briefly to the closet. “Nate, I don’t—”

“Where?” His jaw was locked, anger radiating from him.

I walked into the closet and sighed as I pulled out the black metal case.

Nathan watched me as I exited and set it on the bed.

“How do you open it?” He set the Ruger down.

I lined my fingers up and set them down. “It’s a biometric fingerprint lock.” After a moment, the lock sprung and the case opened. “Glock 19.”

He reached forward and grabbed the gun along with the clip that was sitting beside it. He looked at it for a moment before sliding the clip in.

“Have you ever used a handgun before?” I stared at him, and he shook his head. “Any gun?”

“A shotgun long ago.”

I held out my hand. “Give it to me.”

He glared at me. “No.”

“Nate, you don’t know how to use it.”

“I’ve seen it used enough.”

“When? On television? This is serious. I went through training classes. It’s not as simple and easy as you think.”

“Aim and fire, right?”

I huffed and rolled my eyes. “There are safety precautions so you don’t shoot someone by accident. You need to know how to use it.”

“Then show me. That’s why you got a second gun, right?”

“I got it to protect us. I’ve never had to use it, let alone to kill anyone.”

He shook his head. “It’s not killing if it’s self-defense, and they’re coming to kill us.”

“Nate…”

“What? Why else would you buy a gun?”

I continued to look at him for a moment before focusing on the two guns I owned. The main reason I purchased the Ruger was for its size and easy portability. It didn’t detract from the reality of why I purchased the smaller firearm.

I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“I’m tired of being afraid of the monsters that hide in the dark, of evil things in the form of humans.”

He nodded and handed me the Ruger while he stuffed the Glock in the back of his pants.

“Then it’s time to end this.” He held out his hand, and I slipped mine in.

Together. Live or die, it would be together.

When we got down to the parking lot, Nathan popped open the trunk to my car and not his own. I glanced at him in curiosity, but understood. Switching to mine could buy us some time, because we were always in his car.

The air was heavy as we made our way through downtown to Meridian Street and north a mile to pick up I65. We were both stiff, unable to relax. I watched the Indianapolis skyline disappear in the rearview mirror when the interstate angled west. The IMA sat off to the right overlooking the White River as we passed, streetlamps filling the car with alternating light to dark.

“Shit.”

I turned to him. “What?”

His jaw clenched tight, eyes flickered between the road and the mirror. “They’ve already found us.” The engine revved as he pressed on the gas pedal.

I looked into the rearview mirror, but only saw the bright headlights from all the other cars. My heart fluttered in my chest, the beat seeming to increase with our speed. Every time I took a breath, it echoed in my ears. I kept watching, waiting to see what he did. A few miles flew by, and we approached the exit for I465.

Then it became clear, as traffic moved over to the exit lane, and one car accelerated toward us. Nathan’s knuckles were white as he gripped onto the steering wheel and hit the gas again as the speed limit increased. The words “Thank you for visiting Indianapolis” flashed by, and we were out of the city. My hands trembled as the safety of population was replaced by the unknown of Indiana’s famous corn fields.

Someone had to know. If we didn’t make it, someone had to know what happened.

Nathan cursed again and swung the car hard right over two lanes, barely missing the grassy median as he took the exit. Lebanon was written on one of the signs, and the tires screeched as we turned left at maximum speed.

Why is he taking us off here?

I torqued my body at an awkward angle to see if we were still being followed, and I caught their car swinging hard, barely missing the metal guardrail. If nothing else, there was a bit more space between us and them.

I dug my burner phone out of my pocket and pulled up my text messages. A hard jostle of the car from a pothole sent the phone flying from my hand and slipping between the door and the seat.

“Shit!”

My gaze flickered to the rearview mirror—the second set of headlights was much closer.

I shoved my hand in the tight space to get my phone. There wasn’t much time left. My fingers clasped around the plastic and pulled it up. I looked for another sign when we took a hard right and typed frantically, hoping he understood.

Lafayette Lebanon CR1300. Chased. Help.

I sent it off and clasped the phone between my hands in a silent prayer. When I opened my eyes, headlights shone back at me. The car honked, long and loud, and we swerved.

No matter which way we zigged or zagged, the car after us kept up.

I was jostled into the door, cringing in pain. The sound of screeching metal filled darkness. We couldn’t get away and were hit again, pushed several feet over in the lane.

The metal made a sickening crunching sound as Nathan veered off and took the car into the grass that separated the road from the field. I screamed when he barely missed a mailbox.

The car behind us was undeterred. It kept at us, hell-bent on catching its prey.

Nathan’s eyes were focused and his grip on the wheel firm, yet he somehow seemed relaxed. Like he’d done this before.

An eerie chill slid down my spine. He had done this before.

The lawyer sat next to me, not my husband, working it all out in his head as he drove. Asking himself questions. Going over past evidence, reliving past mistakes, and trying to come up with a different outcome. I stared at him and could almost see his mind spinning faster than the vehicle we were travelling in.

What was I supposed to do?

Nothing. All I could do was keep my death grip the on the door and count each second, waiting for the ride to stop.

“What are we going to do?” I asked, my voice shaky and feeble. The car jostled again as they slammed into the bumper. I shrunk into my seat, holding on to the seatbelt and trying not to freak out.

“Away from them. Away from everything.” His voice was clearer than mine, yet it spoke volumes about where he was at in his head. He was far, far away from here. Imagining some place where he could lock me away.

The wheel jerked as they slammed into us again. The back end of the car swung out, but he kept control, the car rocking as it maneuvered back into a straight line.

Every heartbeat passed in what felt like hours, not seconds. Slow motion in fast forward—a strange sensation.

I wanted the car to stop.

I wanted it to go faster.

I wanted the world to melt away and take my fear with it.

Another minute, hour, lifetime with Nathan.

I wanted to catch a fucking break in my shit life and have the future we deserved.

A tear slid down my cheek and time caught back up.

The tires lost traction on the road as they hit us again, sending us careening into a field. My head slammed into the window as we bounced around on the uneven ground. I held on tighter as the car spun out, narrowly missing a tree.

I exhaled, expunging the air from my aching lungs. How long had I been holding my breath?

Nathan pried his hands from the wheel and turned to me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, unable to voice any of the hundreds of emotions boiling. His head whipped around, searching for our followers. He turned the key, but the engine wouldn’t turn over.

“Fuck! We need to get out of this car.” He reached out, pointing across the field to a large wooden barn. “There. We have to run.”

I reached down to my purse for the Ruger and opened the car door. The darkness made it hard to see anything, but the moonlight created enough light to make our way across the overgrown grass. As we approached the barn a light flipped on.

“Shit.” I hissed.

We slid onto the ground behind a stack of hay. Nathan’s head popped up to see where our stalkers were. A car door slammed and he turned back to me, sadness and fear flooded his features as he stared at me. His hands grasped the sides of my face and brought my lips to his.

“I’m sorry, Lila. I’m so sorry.” His expression broke my heart. “Baby, I need you to do as I say.”

I shook my head violently from side to side.

“Please!” He rested his forehead on mine. “Baby, you have to run. I’ll buy you some time.”

I gripped onto his shirt, fisting it and holding on tight, unwilling to let him go. “You mean your death will buy me some. No! I can’t live without you. Please, Nate. Don’t leave me.”

He let out a shaky breath. “I can’t watch you die, and their intent is to kill you.”

“Then don’t go. We can still make it out of here.”

“Come on out, Thorne!”

I gasped, and Nathan froze.

I swallowed hard and looked down at the gun in my hands. “They don’t know where we are. We can take them out now.”

His eyes went wide and he nodded, pulling the gun out from his pants. “Together.” He leaned forward and kissed me, then turned back to the direction they were coming from.

There was a small space between the stack and I peeked through, but it wasn’t enough. I popped my head up enough to see that there were two guys, both dressed in suits. Another set of headlights headed down the road toward us.

My eyes widened as I recognized a guy wearing a knit cap—I’d seen him before. Many months before in the dress shop. He was the one I’d told Nathan about—Mack.

“Shit.” Nathan hissed as he ducked back down, pulling me with him just as a shot rang out, flying through the hay and past us into the barn. A small amount of light poured out from the new hole.

Another shot whizzed by, and I peered through the small space again. The chubby one was in view and I pulled the gun up, lining up the sight. My finger sat on the trigger, my chest heavy with anxiety and the weight of what I was about to do. I closed my eyes, blew out a breath, and squeezed.

The gun fired, the force of the kick-back and surprise of the shot made me lose sight of him for a moment. A scream of agony pierced the air, and I knew I’d hit my target somewhere.

Nathan shook me and I looked at him, but he sounded like he was in a tunnel.

“What?”

He pulled on my arm. “Come on.”

My hearing cleared, and their yells came through. We skirted around the edge of the barn, out in the open, and a bullet barely missed us. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, even when I fired off another round at our attackers.

He pulled me through the large, wide doors of the barn for some cover, just as one of the men came into view.

“Stay down!” Nathan shot off a round just as one of them ran around the corner. The guy screamed out as the bullet clipped his shoulder.

I shook my head at him and kept at it as he began to close the door. If he was going to protect us, then I would, too. We were a team.

He pulled the lever down into its footing in the ground. “Fuck…” He looked around behind us, realizing we were trapped within the barn’s large walls, the only other exit being a regular-sized door next to the large one.

A loud bang with some splintering wood filled my ears before Nathan screamed out and clutched his arm. I grabbed hold of him and led him over behind a tractor. He hissed when I pulled his hand off to see—the bullet grazed his arm, but he was fine.

They tried to get through the doors and started firing off, punching through the wood planks.

I gripped his shirt and pulled, yanking us toward a ladder that led to a loft.

Before we could reach it, we were tackled to the ground. Two men began kicking Nathan, and another hauled me up from the ground by my hair.

I dug my nails into my attacker’s hand as I screamed in pain. He turned, pulling me by my hair and slamming me into one of the barn’s support beams. I fell to the ground, the world spinning and blurry for a moment as my head rang. The need to move was strong, but I couldn’t.