Shooter (Burnout)

by West, Dahlia

Doc grimaced. “Some people are like that. Close their eyes tight and pretend their world isn’t upside down. Lot of people act like that.”

  “So they act like nothing’s wrong, even though it is,” Tex continued. “And he’s still after her and either they don’t believe it, or they do, but they can’t protect her. Either way, she runs. So there’s a chance she’s in the system and they’re trying to find her and bring her back home.”

  “Where she’s a walking target for this bastard while being forced to pretend everything’s fine in ‘Leave it to Beaver’ land,” Chris ground out. “I don’t care if they’re looking for her. She’s not going back to them.”

  “Calm down,” Doc advised. “She’s at least 18, we can assume that much, so no way can she be forced to go back there. And I’ll keep the search quiet, do it myself. If anything pops, we talk it over before we decide anything. She never even has to know we looked.”

  But that didn’t pan out.

  The next day, Chris was nearly ready to close up shop when Doc pulled into the turnaround in his cruiser. He parked it and stepped out. Chris met him halfway. Doc shook his head. “I got nothing,” he told Chris. “Whoever your little tenant is, she’s a ghost. No car, no I.D., always pays in cash. Anything you get is gonna have to come straight from her.”

  Chris scuffed his boot into the crushed gravel of the turnaround. “Well, I won’t hold my breath on that,” he muttered.

  Chapter 11

  It was just after midnight and the bar was packed. Hayley was already tired but kept plowing through. She set some drinks down on the table of some cowboys and headed back to the bar for the next order. On her way back, someone grabbed her by the upper arm.

  “Hey, we ordered some beers!” snapped the frat boy who’d shown up with his friends almost thirty minutes ago. They were not having much luck snagging any of the women in the place and their demeanor was growing steadily churlish.

  Hayley opened her mouth but nothing came out as the frat boy was lifted up suddenly by the scruff of his neck.

  “You do not put your hands on any woman here!” Chris informed the college boy. “Especially not that one!” Chris half carried, half dragged him to the door.

  The rest of the frat boys got up, shouting at Chris and following them outside. Hayley put her tray on the nearest table and ran out, with Tex, Hawk, and half the bar spilling out the door to watch.

  Chris tossed the frat boy onto the gravel of the parking lot.

  “Hey, you can’t do that!” one of his friends said.

  Chris smirked at him. “I think I just did, son. Now why don’t you get the fuck out of here? You’ve done your bit of slumming for the night. No one’s interested. Fuck. Off.”

  “Hey, come back here!” the guy on the ground yelled, getting to his feet. Chris turned to oblige.

  “Oh, god,” Hayley breathed and took a reflexive step toward them. Hands clamped down on her shoulders and she realized Tex was holding her.

  “He’s alright,” Tex murmured in her ear.

  “Kid,” Chris said dismissively. “Just go the fuck home.”

  “Fuck you!” the kid shot back. “I’ll kick your ass.”

  Everyone laughed, including Chris. “Uh huh,” he told the frat boy and turned to go back inside.

  The kid took a step forward and his hand shot out toward Chris’s turned back. Hayley drew in a sharp breath to scream but Chris half-turned, grabbed the kid by the wrist, twisted, and tossed him down on the ground again.

  “What are you standing there for?” the kid shouted at his friends. “Get his ass!”

  After a moment’s hesitation, several of the frat boys launched themselves forward, directly at Chris. He sidestepped the first one, landing a punch to his stomach that sent him reeling. Two more split up, attempting to get at him from both sides. Chris kicked one in the knee and when he went down, smashed the other one in the face with his fist. The ringleader staggered to his feet and pulled out a knife from his pocket. This time Hayley did scream.

  Chris grabbed the kid by the wrist again and with his other hand took hold of the back of his neck. He swung him into a parked truck, bouncing his head off the hood. He slammed hand holding the knife into the fender. The kid dropped the blade and fell backward. Chris bent down and casually picked up the knife, folding the blade back down.

  At this point Caleb swaggered into the lot, pulling out his badge. “Don’t think I need to tell you boys we’d better not see you around here again.” The boys bolted to their SUV, carrying their most severely injured friend.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Chris asked sarcastically, eyeing Doc. “You just show up at the end? I almost got my clothes dirty!”

  “I was in the head!” Doc said defensively. “I didn’t know you were gonna start a bar fight with a bunch of posers! What was that about? You couldn’t just ask them to leave? This might have ended in paperwork, Shooter! Paperwork! I did not become a cop to fill out fucking paperwork!”

  “One of them grabbed Slick.”

  “Oh.” Caleb turned to Hayley. “You okay, honey?” Hayley, still recovering from having witnessed the fight, nodded a little. Caleb turned back to Chris. “Well, alright then.”

  Chris handed Caleb the knife. “Here. If they come back, arrest them.”

  “Fuck that, I’ll just shoot ‘em. If I’m gonna do paperwork, might as well make it count.”

  As Chris made his way to the front door, Hayley sprang forward out of Tex’s hold and threw her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her, instinctively. He’d heard her scream and realized she’d been terrified for him. He also realized she might never have actually seen a fight like that before. His fingers found her hair and began stroking. “Hey now,” he told her quietly. “It’s alright. I’m fine.”

  She shuddered against him. “I was so scared.”

  “Oh, come on, now. You may or may not know this, but the army’s not just waking up in the morning and carrying heavy things. They taught us to fight, too,” he teased.

  She actually laughed and pushed at him. “Oh!”

  He chuckled and put his arm around her shoulders, steering her to the door. “Honest. I can dig a latrine and throw a punch. Though I can tell you right now which one I’d rather do.”

  He got Hayley settled down and set her off to waiting tables again. He leaned back in his chair, watching her go. When she was out of earshot, he said, “Doc.”

  “On it,” Doc said without hesitation, pulling out his phone. He dialed dispatch and requested an extra patrol for the bar at closing time, stating there had been a ‘disturbance’.

  Chris grabbed his beer off the table but before he took a swig he glanced at Tex. “Thanks for hanging onto her for me.”

  Tex nodded. “Looked for a minute there like she was going to throw herself in between you two. Brave little thing.”

  Hawk chuckled and started humming Stand by Your Man. Chris rolled his eyes. “It’s-”

  “Just lunch!” the other three men finished for him. He glared at each of them in turn.

  Chris summarily ignored his teammates for the rest of the night until Slick’s shift was over. He was pleased that this time he didn’t have to go fetch her. She clocked out, put on her jacket and came to him this time as he was leaning up against the bar talking to Thomas. He nodded his goodbye to the older man and followed Slick out the door into the parking lot. He spotted a cruiser in the lot and was grateful Doc had requested one. Slick got on the bike without hesitation and Chris offered a nod to the uniform who was sitting in his front seat, looking bored. The uniform nodded back and Chris turned onto the street.

  He’d noticed that Slick had gotten used to the bike. More than used it, in fact. She’d stopped clutching at him like he was a life preserver, which was nice on the one hand, but he did kind of miss the cute way she’d clung to him. She bade him goodnight and headed to her front door. As usual, he waited until she was safely inside before heading inside his own place. He changed for bed and
as he tossed his clothes into the hamper, he noticed they were clean and he was pleased with himself. Not that taking down a bunch of college boys was any tough work, but still, he didn’t get anyone’s blood on him or anything. No additional laundry time. He slid into his sheets and clicked off the nightstand light.

  Unfortunately, he was awoken just a few hours later by the sound of Slick screaming next door. He quickly threw on a pair of sweats over his boxer briefs and grabbed his gun, just in case, but he didn’t assault her house with quite the urgency as last time. Seeing the front door was closed, he opened it with his keys. He was about to call out that he’d entered his house when he actually heard her scream his name. His heart skipped a beat and he surged down the hallway. He turned the knob of the bedroom door and once again found the dresser blocking it. Slick was still calling out for him.

  “Hayley!” he said loudly. “Hayley!” Hayley must have been startled by his voice because the screaming abruptly stopped. More calmly, he inquired, “Hayley?”

  He could hear her gasping on the other side of the door. “Chris?”

  “Yeah, it’s me sweetie. Can you open the door?”

  She took a moment to collect herself he guessed then called out. “Okay.” It sounded like she was crying. He heard the telltale thumping of the furniture being moved and the door creaked open. Chris swept a glance inside the room just to be sure.

  Hayley had her face in her hands, sobbing. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. “Hey, now. It’s okay. I’m here.”

  Hayley choked on her sobs. “You- you were hurt,” she told him. “And I c-couldn’t save you.”

  His stomach twisted and he squeezed her tighter. “Oh, honey. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. If two bullets and a bomb can’t stop me, rowdy college kids sure as hell won’t.”

  Her breath hitched. “B-bullets?”

  “I was wearing armor both times. I’m a lucky guy, Slick. Plus, I’m good at what I do. Nothing’s gonna happen to me. I promise you.” Her hand accidentally brushed gun tucked inside his waistband and she drew in a sharp breath. “I told you, I’m good at what I do, Slick. You’ve got to trust me. I play it safe. Always.” She stepped back and he looked her over. It was obvious she’d been crying in her sleep. “Give me a pillow, Slick.”

  Her eyebrows knitted together. “W-what?”

  “A pillow. I’m on your couch tonight.”

  She stared at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up. “Are you ever gonna stop busting my balls?” Slowly, she slid a pillow off the mattress and handed it to him. “Good night, Hayley.”

  Chris tossed the pillow on the couch, set the .44 down on the coffee table, and laid down. He listened for it, but did not hear Slick moving the dresser back in front of her bedroom door. He smiled to himself and closed his eyes.

  In the morning, she emerged wearing yoga pants and a t shirt. “Thanks for staying,” she told him as he sat up and rubbed a hand over his face.

  “Not a problem, Slick. Think you could make me some of those pancakes, though?”

  She smiled and nodded and started the coffee maker. As it brewed she set about gathering ingredients in the kitchen. He ambled over and leaned against the counter watching her. “So what’s on the menu today?” he asked her. “For lunch.”

  “Tofu chili.”

  He grimaced. “Tell me you’re not serious.”

  “It’s healthy and you said I have a fat ass!”

  “Damn. You really do hold a grudge.” The coffee maker beeped and he retrieved two cups from the cupboard where he knew she kept them. On his way to the coffee maker, he swatted her ass with the back of his hand. She yelped and dropped a whole egg into the pancake batter. “I said I like your ass, Slick. Learn to take a compliment.” He poured a mug, tossed in three sugar cubes Slick kept in a bowl by the coffee maker, and handed it to her. Her face had turned red and she took the mug from him, ducking her head to avoid his gaze.

  “We’re having pulled pork sandwiches,” she muttered.

  “Thank God,” Chris said, pouring himself some coffee.

  “And I’m making chocolate cake.”

  His eyebrows knitted together and he took a sip from his steaming mug of black joe. “Thought that was for Poker Night.”

  “It is,” Hayley said, setting a pan on the burner and heating it. “It’s a new recipe from a magazine and I want to try it out first before I make it for real.”

  “Oh, so I’m your guinea pig?”

  “That a problem?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Good.”

  Slick sliced bananas into the batter while the butter melted into the pan. “Do you like bacon?” she asked suddenly.

  “Obviously. I am male, Slick.”

  She nodded, spooning a bit of the batter onto the pan. “I don’t have any. But I could get some. Like for BLT’s and stuff. I wouldn’t normally buy bacon because you only get it in that huge pack and it would take a really long time to eat that much bacon.”

  “Perhaps you don’t love bacon as much as I do,” he mused.

  She laughed. “So,” she cleared her throat a little nervously and flipped the pancake with a spatula. “Maybe we could go to the store today. After lunch.”

  He thought it was cute the way she was asking him for a ride. “Slick, I already said that.”

  She looked up at him. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “No,” she said, adamantly shaking her head.

  “I said last week we’d go to the store.”

  “That was last week, though.”

  He sighed dramatically. “I meant every week. I thought it was obvious.”

  “Oh. Thanks.”

  He nodded. “We need better coffee though,” he declared. “What is this?”

  “It’s Hazelnut Vanilla.”

  He frowned. “Slick, that’s girly coffee.”

  “Well, I don’t really like coffee.”

  “Okay, now you’re just scaring me.”

  She rolled her eyes at him and handed him a plate of three cakes. He set it on the island, dug a fork out of the drawer, and searched for the syrup in the fridge. Slick sliced off a pat of butter and put it on top for him. He ate standing up at the counter. She made him two more and three for herself and they took their plates to her small table.

  “These are really good,” he told her.

  “I’m thinking of branching out. Pecans, chocolate chips, cinnamon, pumpkin.”

  “Pumpkin pancakes? Sounds awesome,” he decided.

  “Well,” she said, taking a bite and chewing it thoughtfully. “You could come over sometime and I could make them. ‘Cause I really want to try them.”

  “So far this guinea pig thing is working out,” he declared around a mouthful of pancakes. “Looking forward to the chocolate cake.”

  “Me too,” she replied.

  Chris finished mowing, showered, and headed back over to Hayley’s place for lunch. Thank God she was lying about the tofu chili and telling the truth about the pulled pork sandwiches. They were delicious. He ate two and would have gone for a third but he wanted to save room for the cake that finally, finally!, finished cooling on the rack. He hung out against the counter watching her whip up a quick batch of chocolate buttercream frosting and finish it off. He tried to swipe some icing with his finger but she whacked him with a wooden spoon and ordered him to gather some plates and forks.

  Setting everything on the deck, Chris cut himself a giant slice of the gorgeous confection, picked up his fork, and took a huge bite. But either he’d had a mini stroke while mowing or something had gone terribly wrong in the oven because it was terrible. Just God awful. He struggled to swallow and chased it down with water. “Slick, what the hell? It’s disgusting. It’s horrifying. It’s…fake cake.”

  She smiled at him, while cutting a small bite of her own slice. “It’s healthier. No sugar, no gluten.”

 
; He wrinkled his nose. “No fun!” he declared. “It is a No Fun Cake. I didn’t even know you could bake a cake with zero fun in it. Cake is cake. Cake is total fun. It’s birthday parties, and graduations, and weddings. Fun stuff! You can’t have a cake with no fun in it! It’s un-American!” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you defiled a sacred thing like cake just to jerk me around. You’re evil, Hayley Turner. Just plain evil.”

  Chapter 12

  Thursday night was Poker Night, and, as promised, Hayley appeared at the back door, arms full. She unpacked everything on Chris’ counter. The boys wandered into the small kitchen and watched her slice a glistening chocolate confection with a large knife.