Shy Kinda Love

by Deanna Eshler

“How far out is Doc Johnson?” I ask Angie.

  “She should be here in about five minutes.” Angie pauses, wiping away more tears, then continues, “Shy, he doesn’t look good. If he was poisoned, I doubt there’s anything the vet can do.”

  Just as Angie is finishing her thought, Walker goes down on his front knees, then his rear. His head is lifted only slightly from the ground. His eyes are barely open and the foam coming from his mouth tells me that Angie is right. I am about to lose my horse.

  I circle around Walker until I am positioned on the floor behind his head. I fold my legs, then gently ease his head down onto my lap. Walker doesn’t resist. The tears are spilling down my cheeks and dripping onto him. I hold one hand near his nose and gently caress his large jaw with the other. For the past three years this horse has been my safe place, my therapy, my heart.

  As I caress his face I stare into his big brown eye, and it’s barely able to look back at me. “Shh, baby boy,” I whisper, as another tear falls from my cheek. “I know you’re in pain and I’m so sorry.”

  I hear Doc Johnson’s voice and look up to see her entering the stall. “Hey, Shyanne,” she says softly as she kneels in front of us. “I’m just going to listen to his heart and respirations. You don’t need to move.” I nod my head and wait for her to tell me what I already know. I continue to try and soothe Walker as she takes his vitals. When she lifts her eyes to mine, I know it’s bad.

  “His lungs are failing, and his heart is shutting down. He’s suffering greatly, Shy. Whoever injected him gave him only enough to kill him slowly. If we let him go on his own it could take another twenty or thirty minutes.” The vet wraps her stethoscope over her shoulders, then leans in and rubs Walker’s neck. “I think the best thing you can do for him is put him out of his misery.”

  I nod my head again, not knowing what else to say. Doc Johnson exits the stall to get what she needs.

  I lean over and kiss him again, and I can no longer control the sobs. “I’m so sorry, boy. I’m so sorry I brought you into my disaster of a life. I’m so sorry that you’re paying the price for my mistakes. You have been an amazing horse. You saved my life, and I will never forget you.” I can feel his body quivering next me so I lay a hand on his shoulder, unsuccessfully trying to take away his pain. I look down and see that he has his eye open and is looking directly at me. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I say as I rub his neck and look back into his eye.

  Doc Johnson comes back into the stall, syringe in hand. She asks, “Are you ready?”

  No, no fucking way am I ready to let my horse go. Instead of saying what I really feel, I look down to Walker one more time and tell him, “I love you, boy. Thank you. Thank you for saving my life, and I am so, so sorry that I couldn’t save yours.” I breathe in a very shaky breath then nod to Doc Johnson. “Goodbye, baby,” I say as I kiss him again, then stare into his eye as the doc gives him the injection that will relieve his suffering, but make mine worse.

  ***

  I sit in the stall with Walker’s head still in my lap for hours. Maybe it’s just twenty minutes, I don’t know. It’s not important. Angie is sitting next to me and I can hear the agents and Ryder talking outside the stall. I don’t register what they are saying. My mind is empty, numb.

  I feel Angie’s hand on my arm so I shift my eyes and look to her. “I’m so sorry for what happened to Walker, and I can’t help but feel responsible.” She waves her free hand around the space. “This is my barn and it’s my job to keep the horses safe. I didn’t do that.”

  I pull her my gaze from her to look down at my dead horse again. I shake my head. “This is my fault.” I think back to the night when this all began, wishing I had died on my bedroom floor.

  After several more minutes Angie breaks the fog of misery surrounding us. “I’m gonna go get Mike. He can get the tractor and start digging out behind the pasture.” She squeezes my arm, then leaves the barn to go find her husband.

  I know I need to get up, walk away from this grotesque scene, but I honestly don’t know where to go. I have no home. With that thought, I shove back all of the emotions that have consumed the past few months of my life, and decide it’s time to leave. Leave this stall, this barn, and this town. I’m ready to leave this place that has filled me with so many emotions, both good and bad. I’m ready to stop feeling again; to once again become the girl I was before I met Keegan, Gemma, and Kade.

  With shaking hands and short shallow breaths, I lift my horse’s head from my lap and kiss him one last time. I exit the stall and approach Ryder, where he’s talking in hushed whispers with the agents. I step up beside him, interrupting their conversation. “Let’s go. Wherever you’re taking me, let’s go.” Ryder reaches out his arm and wraps it around my shoulders, trying to pull me in for a hug, but I stiffen. “Don’t. Don’t try to comfort me. You’re the one that told me to get a life. Go make friends, have fun, and live my life. Well, I did that, and now I’ve lost everything—again. So don’t try to tell me it’s all going to be fine, because it’s not.” I take a step to the side, placing distance between myself and Ryder. “I just want to leave.”

  Ryder looks to the agents, then back to me. “We’re working on it. Give us a little more time and we’ll have a plan.” I roll my eyes as I turn to walk away, feeling irritated at everyone for everything.

  I walk to the other end of the barn, as far from Walker as possible. I lean back against a stall then slide down until I my butt hits the ground. I pull my knees up to my chest, cross my arms over my knees, and lay my head on my arms. A short time later I hear the tractor start up and the sounds becomes more distant as it goes to dig a final resting place for Walker. I feel a tear prick the corner of my eye as I realize I will never be able to visit his grave. After I leave here today, I will never see this farm again. I wipe the tear from my eye and push my emotions down deeper this time. I’m done feeling… anything.

  Sometime later, I feel someone approach me, then I hear a body slowly lowering against the stall to sit next to me. I glance up to see Angie, seated just a foot away. “Do you want to go back, to watch him be buried?”

  I shake my head. I can’t watch my baby be dumped in the ground, then dirt thrown on him. I don’t have enough space in me to push down the emotions for that.

  “Okay, how about you come in and lie down, just until they decide on their plan.” She nods her head to the agents.

  I nod. I’d like to lie down. Being in this barn too painful.

  “Ryder told me they’re FBI.” It’s more a question than a statement, so I nod again. “I don’t understand why you showed up here tonight, under the escort of the FBI, and I’m guessing I’m not going to know, but I’ll let them know we’re going inside.”

  Angie gets permission from my bodyguards, one of whom insists on escorting us to the house.

  Allowing the numbness to fill my mind and body, I hear someone’s footsteps approaching from behind. I glance over my shoulder to see Ryder just a few feet away. I notice him visibly flinch when he sees my expression. I know what he sees: the girl he rescued from a room three years ago. The girl he spent three years trying to bring back to life. He shakes off his concern as he reaches out a hand for mine. “Baby, I need to go take care of something. Agent Clarkson and Agent Hill will stay with you. We’ll leave when I get back.” He squeezes my hand. “I know this is bad, Shy, and I’m sorry for everything you’re having to deal with right now, but please don’t shut down on me again.”

  I just stare back into his eyes, allowing him to see the emptiness that has already taken over. Then I pull my hand from his and turn, continuing the walk to the house.

  I hear Ryder’s muttered “Fuck,” as we exit the barn.

  Chapter 36

  I’m lying on the couch, trying and failing to clear my head of the images from the past few days. My dad, as he cried telling me he did always love me, he just hated himself for not being able to protect me. Kade when he practically told me he hates me. Walker, looking at me a
s he took his final breath. As I try to scrub all these visions from my mind, I once again wish that I had died on my bedroom floor three years ago.

  Agent Hill, who is sitting in the chair next to me, jumps to his feet when Agent Clarkson comes to the front door. “Mike saw something out by the barn when he was putting the tractor away,” Clarkson snaps.

  Hill nods his head. “I’ll cover the back door, you take the front.”

  Clarkson agrees, then he turns to me. “You stay here.”

  I just stare back at him, not caring about anything, so Angie speaks up. “I’ll stay with her.” She is sitting at the dining room table, in a chair near the living room. Hill nods to her, then he disappears out the back door.

  Angie gets to her feet and comes to stand next the couch. She is staring down at me, with sadness in her eyes, when we hear a pop and a thud come from out back. Angie grabs my hand. “We need to get out of here,” she says, just before we hear the back door.

  I look up to find Marco Munro standing just five feet from me. I haven’t seen him since the night he took my virginity. This is the first man to ever come to my room. Now that I think about it, it seems fitting that I killed his brother in that same room. I smile a little, probably looking insane to Angie.

  I stand and turn to face him, placing Angie behind me. As soon as my eyes meet his, I see the cruel smile reach his eyes. “Sweet Christ, Nicole, you are even more beautiful today,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, as if he has smoked too many cigarettes. The stench emanating from him indicates he has indeed had too many smokes, and he has not showered in weeks. He’s wearing a light denim button-down shirt, but it’s filthy and threadbare. His brown hair is greasy and looks like it hasn’t been cut in years.

  I feel Angie shift behind me, then I hear her voice at my shoulder. “Shyanne, do you know him? Who’s Nicole?”

  I ignore Angie’s questions. Instead I speak to the man who has been searching for me for three years. “What do you want, Marco?” Not surprisingly, I feel no fear. I have nothing left to fear.

  “To deal you the same fate I dealt your horse,” he says. Out of the corner of my eye I see him raise his hand, so I look to see what he’s holding. It’s a gun with—if my obsession with cop shows is anything to go by—a silencer on the end.

  However, I don’t see a gun, I see my serenity; my peace. So, I take a step toward him. “Do it.” I look him in the eye, letting him know I’m not bluffing. That gun in his hand is the answer to ending my pain.

  Angie gasps. “Shy,” her voice cracks, “What’re you doing?”

  I ignore her again. “Do it, Marco,” I shout this time. I can see the confusion on his face. He must have assumed that I would fight, try to run, anything to try and prevent my own death. Well, he doesn’t know that death would be a blessing to me.

  “Shyanne, stop,” Angie is yelling now between her sobs. “Get away from him. You don’t want to do this; you’re just hurting right now.”

  I take another step closer to Marco, and plead, “Please do it. This is what you came here for, isn’t it?”

  It’s then I hear footsteps on the front porch and Smoke’s voice. “Shyanne, what’s wrong?” Clarkson enters the front door, gun lowered in front of him, and quickly takes in the scene. “Drop it, Munro.” He raises his gun at Marco and I hear more people on the porch, coming to rescue me. What they don’t understand is that Marco is the only one who can rescue me right now.

  I know they won’t understand, so I look back to Marco. “Hurry… please.” My breaths are becoming shallower as I beg this man for mercy. Not the kind of mercy he expected, so he continues to just hold the gun, pointed at me, as he watches me in fascination.

  “Shyanne, back away. I’ve got this,” Smoke commands.

  I shake my head and make my final plea. “Please, Marco,” I say on a desperate exhale as I fall to my knees in front of him. “Hurry, before they shoot you.”

  Smoke’s voice interrupts my pitiful plea. “Shyanne, get the fuck off the floor and back away.” I hear the shaking in his voice now, too. He has no idea how to handle a crazy woman begging a crazy man to take her life.

  I can hear Angie sobbing behind me, and one of the agents has his gun raised and is yelling for Marco to drop his. The chaos is drowned out when I see the cruel smile return, and his lips begin to move.

  “You’re suffering.” It’s a statement, not a question. “I don’t need to kill you. You’re already living in hell.”

  I close my eyes, knowing he has made his decision. He is choosing to make me live in pain, not die in peace.

  “My job here is done,” he says, in almost a whisper so only I hear him. Then he lifts the gun, smiles, and leans towards me, never intending to shoot me. I’m looking into his eyes as the bullet shatters his temple and his brain explodes just inches from my face.

  I hear Angie’s shrill scream as my eyes watch Marco fall to the floor, almost onto my knees. Still, I feel nothing. Actually, I feel less. My entire body goes numb and my eyes glaze, so I only see a blurry version of the mess in front of me. I hear lots of noise but I no longer register who is saying what.

  Just a minute ago I thought I had an answer, an end to this disaster of a life. Instead, it just upgraded to new a level of disaster.

  Chapter 37

  The morning after the shooting I wake from my self-induced coma. The last thing I remember is Marco’s head exploding just inches from my face. Now I’m in the guest room at Ryder’s house and Kade is sleeping on the floor. I don’t know if he knows what happened or even why he is here, and I don’t care. Even though I’ll no longer be held in witness protection, I can’t go back. I can’t go back to feeling again.

  I go to the bathroom then wander out to the couch, where I wrap myself in a blanket and stare at the wall. A few minutes later, Kade kneels in front of me. I shift my eyes to look at him, but I don’t smile. I can’t smile.

  He reaches a hand to touch my face. “Are you okay, Filly?”

  I just blink.

  He leans in and kisses my forehead. “You scared the shit out of me last night,” he says, when he pulls back to look at me again.

  I stare back into eyes, and feel nothing. “You need to leave,” I tell him.

  The shock of my words is clear. After a minute of searching my face for answers, he narrows his eyes. “You know I didn’t mean what I said. I was hurt, and terrified, and I panicked. I would have said anything to get a reaction out of you. Anything to get you to fight for us.” He strokes my face again as his expression softens. “I could never hate you Filly. As a matter of fact, I’m pretty sure you are the only girl I will ever love.”

  With no expression of emotion, I tell him again. “You need to leave.”

  He releases a harsh breath and turns, so that his is now leaning against the couch, his back to me. He hangs his head. “Please don’t shut me out again. You don’t need to run, or even hide anymore.” He scrubs his face with his hands. “Ryder and Hudson told me everything. I know you killed a man in self-defense. I know you were in witness protection, which is why you had to leave. I know that Walker’s dead and you were begging a madman to kill you.”

  When Kade realizes I’m not going to respond, he turns to face me again. “I get it, Shyanne. Your life has been a big bag of horse shit, and I wish I could change that for you. But everything that has happened to you made you the girl that I love. You can go forward from here; you’ve done it before. I’m just begging you, please don’t run from me this time, because you have no reason to run, but you have a million reasons to stay.”

  I feel a little tug in my chest as I look into his eyes and remember how good it was with us. Almost as quickly as I feel it, I shove it back down. I do know how good it can be, but I also know the better it gets the more it hurts when it’s gone. Even though Marco is no longer a threat to me, there is always another tragedy waiting around the corner. If I walk into the sunset, holding hands with Kade, there could be a bus waiting to run him over
when we get there. I’m done pretending that happy endings exist.

  I emphasize each word this time. “You. Need. To. Leave.”

  He closes his eyes and sighs loudly as he stands. He picks up his keys from the stand and crashes through the front door.

  I go back to staring at the wall.

  ***

  It’s day five of my new non-life. I only know it’s day five because the shrink, sent by Agent Clarkson, was here at Ryder’s yesterday and told me it had been four days since the shooting, since I lost Walker.

  I shower and get dressed, in the same mindless routine I have been following for five days. I go to the kitchen for my coffee, the next step in my routine. There I find Smoke, sitting at the island, working on his laptop. I guess he is my chaperone for the day. Although irritated that I still have a chaperone, I’m glad to see that Kade and Ryder are not here. Smoke doesn’t try to make me talk. I don’t want to talk, or think, or feel. My only goal for the day is to breathe. Just breathe.

  As I pour my coffee into the mug, I wonder if Kade has finally realized that I’m toxic and he needs to stay away. Although Kade did leave the other morning, he came back later that night. He has been coming here every day after classes and sleeping on the couch at night. I don’t want him here, and I’ve told him that every day for the last four days.

  When I see him, he makes me feel things. The night of the shooting, I allowed my mind and body to drag me into my safe place, the place where I’m wrapped in numbness. I need the numbness. I don’t need Kade around, or Keegan or Gemma or Ryder, because they bring back memories. And memories make me feel.

  Dr. Reynolds, the psychologist sent by Clarkson, attempted to get me to talk about my feelings, but after ten minutes of silence, she left me alone. I heard her talking to Kade and Ryder in the living room, telling them something about me dissociating. I considered reminding her of her confidentiality agreement, but then remembered I didn’t care.