The Chevy Blazer pulled to a silent stop in front of a cabin. I was lifted to Jared's shoulder as he carried me like a sack of potatoes from the car. One arm held my legs, the other his gun. He took the steps easily, shouldering my weight as if I were nothing. I remained passive and quiet as he followed Darkie up the porch steps. Darkie opened the door and turned back toward us, gun raised. I was flung across the threshold and into him.
Darkie dropped his gun as he caught me. I have to say I was glad for his quick reflexes as we tumbled to the floor. I landed on my left side facing the doorway with him on top of me. All the air left my lungs and I grunted beneath his bulk. I tried to scramble away from the pending fight but Jared was on us, halting my escape. Somewhere across the room, I heard the sound of hands clapping, immediately followed by a soft double thud, then Darkie went limp.
Jared moved in a blur of speed. Before I knew exactly what was happening or could catch my breath I was pushed across the polished wooden flooring. I caught a glimpse of a dark figure behind a post in the empty room. Jared's body blocked my view. He was between me and the wall. He'd somehow managed to pull Darkie with him and was using Darkie's bulk as a shield. Jared's arm was raised, pointing off to the side in the direction of the silhouette standing in the shadows.
Gun fights always seemed so intense in the movies, like they have their own rules. I knew nothing about guns except that if Harry Potter or Voldemort had used a gun, that story would have ended with book one. I knew about physical fights from my self-defense classes. They were all about the body. The movements of the muscles, and the eyes shifting right, left, up, down. If my hands were free I could do more to protect myself. They weren't, though, and the best I could do was crawl away.
Despite feeling like a useless player, I was grateful for Jared's presence. I had no idea why he was doing what he was doing, but I knew that his body was between mine and the other gunman's. Jared had promised not to hurt me. He'd also promised to protect me and I was grateful for that promise, no matter how unlikely his ability to keep it.
I crawled along the wall on my knees and twisted my body around until I was sitting with my back against the stone fireplace. This took me out of the line of fire for the other gunman. I could still see Jared as he used Darkie to cover himself. Jared didn't have a clear shot because the other man was hidden behind a support beam.
"Carter," Jared said, his voice steady and light.
"Yes. Is it Jared these days?" The voice came from behind the support beam.
"Jared is fine. Why do you want to kill me?" said the-man-whose-name-could-be-Jared-but-not-likely.
"Who said that was my goal?" Carter answered.
"CJ caught my bullet. Let's not play games. You've wanted me dead for a while now." I could see Jared's breath as he spoke, the room was so cold. I assumed CJ was the name of the guy I'd thought of as Darkie in my head all night.
"He could have been my target."
They spoke casually, as if they were old friends sharing a pitcher of beer in a bar, not two men with guns trained on one another.
"You and I know if CJ were your target you would have just said so. You said 'could have been,' which means he wasn't." Jared's voice dropped a level and fingers of ice raced up and down my spine.
