Keeping Secrets (An Anonymous Novella)

Chapter 17 Part 2

"I noticed." She spoke around the rock in her throat. "Thank you."

"We should go." Lyle said. "I know you don't want to be here anymore."

She didn't, but not for the same reason Lyle thought. "Okay. We'll go. Can...I just need to say goodbye to Ethan real quick, and then we can go."

Lyle took a step forward, "He doesn't need any attention. Can't you see? I'm your mate."

"Of course, of course." Chloe quickly said to appease him. She didn't like the way his hand shook, as if he couldn't control it. With his finger next to the trigger, she desperately prayed he could at least control that. "We can go. Just give me one second."

Without waiting for an answer, she whirled to Ethan and whispered as quietly as possible, "Trust me." With such a small space, it was dangerous for Ethan to do any type of attack without hurting himself or her. It was up to her to diffuse the situation. She was afraid. God, was she afraid. But hopefully Ethan would be able to see past the fear to the determination in her eyes. I love you. She mouthed.

It was her turn to play bait. If it was the last thing she did, she'd get this crazy maniac away from Ethan long enough for him to get help. Long enough for him to find Jackson. This was her chance to make up for all the danger she'd brought to Ethan. It wouldn't be much, but by God, she could at least take this danger away from him.

When she turned back around, Lyle gave her his flashlight, then held out a hand. She hesitated, just barely, then grabbed it.

His hand was hot and damp. He pulled her from the bathroom, and directed her towards the back door of the house.

The living room was a wreck. In the commotion, the cushions had scattered off the couch, the lamp from the corner table rested in shattered pieces on the hardwood floor, and the glass top coffee table had a long red smear along the center. A pair of dark shoes poked out behind the couch. Chloe couldn't get herself to point the shaky flashlight beam at them.

How had he been able to take out these guards? There was no way. No way this man would be stealthy enough, strong enough, to take out this many highly trained guards. Not without some type of help.

He led her past the couch, to the back door. As they walked past, Chloe bit back a growing sob and finally pointed the beam of light to those shoes. At the light, Jim began to stir. Lyle, as if coming out of a stupor, glanced absentmindedly down at him. Before Chloe could blink, Lyle raised his gun and pulled the trigger, putting a bullet though Jim's head like he had Raul's. Chloe jerked, barely trapping the anguished cry in her throat. She turned her head to the side and squeezed her eyes shut. Jim.

Everything seemed to move like a dream. It was like a blink, or snapshot, and then she found herself outside, the moon and stars providing light for her eyes to adjust. At some point, Lyle's hand had moved up to right above her elbow, his grip firm, forcefully guiding.

He shepherded her through the backyard and towards the ring of trees--opposite of the direction of the other safehouse. Slow him down. Gravel and twigs cut into the soles of her feet, stinging, but she kept dragging her feet. It took focus for her to make each step as prolonged as possible.

She'd do whatever was necessary to give Ethan as much time as possible.

Reality had struck hard and fast. This might be it. This might be the last time I see Ethan. She had no doubt that once Lyle got her off the property, he'd do his best to put them both off the radar. With his apparent technology skills, she imagined he could make disappearing an art form.

By the time they hit the trees, Chloe's feet were raw. "Lyle, where are we going?" Maybe if she talked, she'd be able to ignore the burning pain in the soles of her feet.