by Amy Lane
Tears dropped from Julia’s eyes, through the grime on her face, and mixed with the snot on her lip. Larx remembered the way his girls used to cry with their whole bodies, like their hearts would come apart because their little persons shook so hard, and the chill knife in his bowels twisted.
“Julia, maybe you want to put down the—”
Julia brought the side of the gun to her head and pressed like she was trying to grind out the memory with her fist and forgot the gun was there. “They were fighting, and then he got so scared. And I looked out my door and she was backing him out… in his underwear!”
She didn’t move her hand, but she looked at Larx in agony, the ugly black pistol hard against her forehead. “His underwear, Mr. Larkin! She won’t even let me out of the house in a miniskirt!”
Julia shook her head then and started gesticulating wildly, the gun pointing everywhere. Larx watched it with wide eyes, waiting for her to wind down.
“I don’t know what happened after that,” she gasped, the weight of the gun pulling on her exhausted, undernourished body. “I don’t know! You can’t make me tell!”
“Of course not,” he said, and he heard his voice shake. “I won’t make you tell. Not right now. Julia, do you think I could have the—”
“And I didn’t ask.” Her gun hand calmed down, and she brought it up against her stomach again, muzzle pointing up past her shoulder this time so she could hold the Oreos and continue to eat.
“I understand,” he said, throat dry. He did too. Her mother killed her father on the end of the dock. She knew it. She’d maybe even seen it. And then she’d come back to school, which, just like it had been for Kellan, was a place of safety. And the boy she’d wanted hadn’t wanted her back. And the other kids had laughed at her, maybe—or maybe she just wanted Mom to do something. That was her pattern, to call her mom.
“And I told my mom at the bonfire that night, the boy didn’t want me. I had the dress, I had this whole stupid date picked out, and he… he’d rather kiss a boy. And my mom….” Julia’s breath caught. “I don’t know what she did,” she said, voice finally breaking. “I don’t. I didn’t see… I can’t think about it. She was there. She ran by me and hugged me and told me it would all be okay, and I didn’t see the blood, I swear I didn’t see the blood until they pulled a gun on me and I almost wet my pants!”
She was beginning to crumble, the gun swinging loosely from her fingers. Larx put his hands out slowly.
“Julia,” he said quietly. “Hon. That thing, it must be so terribly heavy right now. You’ve been carrying it for such a long, long time. You want to give it to me? And we’ll get you some clothes, and a bath, and some food, and a place to sleep, and someone to talk to, and—”
He made his voice soothing, hypnotic, and even as he stretched out his arms, he watched warily as her hand drooped, the gun sagging out of her fingers, and he reached for it with one hand while he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders.
He saw it falling and made a grab for it so it wouldn’t hit the floor.
He heard her scream in his ear just as the sound of the shot rang out through the classroom.
AARON AND Eamon got to the school in time to see the milling kids being shepherded by Nancy Pavelle. Aaron sought out Larx’s room, back to the left of the administration building, and saw the open door just in time to spot Christi running away from the room, wiping her face on her sweater.
Eamon disdained the curb, the sidewalk, and the quad grass and used the SUV’s torque to get them up and into the middle of the quad. He parked right next to a familiar battered-looking Navigator squatting in the middle of the grass, and Aaron tried to keep his heart beating.
They’d been looking for that vehicle, and here it was, at the school to greet them.
Nancy ushered the kids closer to the admin building to give them some room, and Aaron wondered which kid had gone to get her—it had been a good move.
Kirby spotted his father first and grabbed Kellan’s arm and Christi’s hand, and in a moment Aaron was the center of their frightened, hysterical chatter, and hard-pressed to put some semblance of order to the kids while icy fingers of fear ripped all the strength from his body.
“Enough!” he snapped and opened his arms for Christi, reliable, practical Christiana, who melted against him with a whimper. “Now someone tell me what happened and where Larx is!”
“We were working,” Kirby said, looking at Kellan, who nodded. “And the room was quiet, and he saw her coming in. He met her in the middle of the aisle and just….”
“Wiggled his fingers,” Kellan said with a small shrug, “like he was shooing us away.”
“We looked up and saw the gun and just went,” Kirby said.
“I thought he’d come with us!” Christi wailed into Aaron’s shirt, and Aaron held her, and then he reached out his other arm for Kirby. Kirby dragged Kellan, and for a moment they huddled, paralyzed, while Aaron tried to put his fear in a little box so he could function.
Larx. Larx was in that room with a desperate girl. Who had a gun.
Eamon had sent Warren and Percy to go arrest Whitney, but what was going on in that classroom might be over way before then.
Aaron backed up a bit and caught everybody’s eyes. “You three, stay here. Right here. Let me take care of it. I’m getting the other kids out of the quad and to safety, okay?”
They looked at him and nodded, and he strode away, Eamon at his side.
“Nancy,” he said, “can we get these kids out of the quad?”
“Yeah, sure,” she muttered, looking like she was barely keeping it together. “I can get them to my room. But you’ve got twenty minutes, maybe less, before the bell rings. Normally I’d have Yoshi call over the intercom, because besides the kids he’s the only one who knows how to use it—”
“Kirby!” Aaron barked, pulling his son away from the SUV. “You know how to use the intercom?” He remembered Kirby talking about his stint as an office TA.
“Yeah?”
“You need to help Mrs. Pavelle talk to everybody besides Larx’s room. Can you do that?”
Kirby appeared to think about it. “Maybe,” he said, thinking. “Okay, yeah. I can do that.”
“Okay,” Aaron said, trying hard to think. “We don’t want them all in one place. We don’t want them milling about. Tell them to go to their homeroom immediately. Go!” They took off, but before they’d even turned around, he was on to the next thing. “Eamon?”
“Yes, Deputy?” Eamon asked mildly.
Aaron ignored the sarcasm. He’d learned a lot by watching Larx do big group logistics, and he was trying to think just like him. “Do we have backup?”
Eamon looked up in time to see a second unit pull up, siren blazing. He pulled his hand across his throat immediately, and the noise cut off.
“Roadblock the drop-off points,” Aaron said, head swimming. “Have them take down student names and send the kids home. Some of the kids are already here, and we can’t fix that. Some of them walk or ride bikes or drive, and we can’t fix that. But we can stop anybody else from turning into the driveway and dropping their kids off into chaos. Tell them to call the attendance office as soon as they can so we know the kid’s safe, but start that right the hell now.”
“Read you,” Eamon said, and then he saluted smartly and trotted down to meet the other two deputies to have them block the main entrance with the SUV.
Aaron looked up and saw that Nancy had put another teacher in charge of herding Larx’s class to her room, picking up any kids she could find on the way. The quad was much clearer now, and he still had fifteen minutes to go.
He reached into his SUV, behind the seat, and pulled out his Kevlar.
“Here,” he said to Kellan, “hold this.” He took off his jacket and put the vest on, making sure his own weapon was clear. He glanced at Kellan holding the jacket to his chest and shivering and said, “You can put it on, son. I’m not going to need it for a few.”
�
��That looks so scary in real life,” Kellan told him with a wobble in his voice.
Aaron smiled grimly and ruffled his hair. “It’ll be okay.” He touched Christiana’s cheek with his knuckle. “Both of you. We have to have faith.”
He had to. He’d thought his faith had been destroyed, decimated by his wife’s death, the things he’d seen on his job, raising his children single-handedly, and feeling like he failed more often than he succeeded. But he’d fallen in love—he and Larx had made love, and his body felt brand-new at over forty-eight, and his heart felt bright and shiny, and he just needed some fucking faith.
He smiled at them and told them to sit tight. “I mean it,” he said soberly. “Wait until I give the all clear, okay?”
Eamon came trotting up at that moment, and Aaron looked to the school’s entrance to see the roadblock in place just in time to hear Nancy over the intercom.
“All students, report to their homeroom immediately. Do not linger in the quad. Go now.”
And that took care of the rest of the lingerers. The kids were safe behind the SUV, and it was time to get closer to Larx.
“Boy, are you going to wait for me?” Eamon muttered, reaching into his side of the vehicle. He threw his jacket onto the driver’s side before securing the door, and he was fastening the Velcro as he caught up with Aaron, weapon drawn and pointed downward, as he approached the still-open door to Larx’s classroom.
“Let me take point,” Eamon commanded softly, and Aaron’s common sense kicked in just in time, before he could run in like a goddamned cowboy.
Eamon could think through this better. He didn’t have any high-school-aged kids. His lover wasn’t in there facing a gun. Eamon would have the clearer head, and Aaron needed to trust him as Eamon had just trusted Aaron to keep the kids safe.
“I don’t know what she did!” Julia wailed. “I don’t. I didn’t see… I can’t think about it!” Aaron and Eamon exchanged grim glances. Oh yeah. They’d figured out what she’d seen on the way over. They took position at the door, Eamon against the wall, Aaron against the open door. Eamon glanced in first, and then Aaron, and Aaron felt his heart stall.
Julia was standing, back toward the door, and Larx was… oh God. Two feet away. She gestured as she spoke, and they got glimpses of the inexpertly held gun flailing in time with her emotions.
Then Larx started talking, and Aaron blessed him. His voice was low and soothing, and they both watched as he reached… reached… reached….
The gun fell and went off, firing randomly up at an angle. Julia screamed and Larx finished his hug, falling into her a little at the same time. Eamon rushed through the door, wrapping his arms around her as she went limp and sobbing, while Aaron went for Larx.
Who was squinting at Aaron fuzzily, one hand coated in blood while he stared at a deep gouge in his arm. “Holy crap,” he muttered. “She shot me!”
“Larx?” Aaron said, wondering how he could talk if his heart hadn’t started beating yet. “Larx, you okay?”
Larx looked at him and tried a smile. “I could use some fuckin’ sleep,” he said distinctly.
Aaron nodded, holstering his weapon. “I know, baby. C’mere. We’ll get you home.” Larx didn’t even flinch as Aaron pulled him into a very careful embrace.
“I’m so glad to see you,” Larx whispered against his shoulder, his voice shaky. “I was so afraid—”
“Yeah,” Aaron told him, reassured by his warmth and his quick breaths against Aaron’s neck. “Me too. Let’s get you outside, okay? The kids need to see you.”
“Paramedics would be a great idea too,” Eamon said tartly, putting his own weapon away. He’d cuffed Julia from the front, but he also had a protective arm around her shoulders. “I’ll get her to the deputies to take to the station. You stay and take care of your family. I’ll deal with the press, because I can’t believe those assholes aren’t here yet. And you have an appalling number of teenagers to tend to.”
Aaron let out a laugh that wasn’t quite sane. “Yeah. That.”
He looked at the floor and saw the gun, still smoking, and holstered his own weapon. Then he picked the damned thing up in his gloved hand and clicked the safety on. He put it in his left hand while he wrapped his right arm over Larx’s shoulder, thinking of evidence bags and lockboxes so he didn’t have to think about how this wound, this moment, had been a near miss—and a big hint from the universe not to take anything for granted.
The paramedics were up on the curb by the time they got outside, and Aaron steered Larx to sit down on the tailgate to be doctored. Larx winced when they cut through his shirt and his sport coat. “I don’t have many of those,” he muttered. Then he saw Christi approaching and he smiled.
“Hey, Christi-lulu-belle. How’re we doing?”
She gave a wobbly smile and then threw herself into his arms and fell apart while the EMTs worked.
Aaron talked quietly to the boys, reassuring them both and making sure they could get close enough to Larx to see he’d be okay. When the medic had Larx sufficiently drugged and bandaged, Eamon approached.
“Boys, I hate to break this to you, but they have a really cozy shot of the two of you leaving the building. If Larx hadn’t been bleeding, it would look like a date photo. Larx, I think you’re going to need to talk to the press. Follow my lead.”
Larx nodded. “Yessir,” he said, smiling brightly. “Christi, let me up.”
He nodded a little shakily and shed what was left of his sport coat, looking woefully at the sleeve the EMT had butchered. The EMT—a calm, capable woman who treated Larx like she knew him—glared back.
“Larx, you should be going to the hospital,” she said patiently. “I know how you feel about following rules, but you’re going to want a painkiller and some antibiotics, and I can’t give you any of that.”
“You did too,” Larx muttered. “You just gave me a painkiller.”
“I gave you a shot, not a prescription. And I gave you a tetanus and an antibiotic shot. You’re going to want more.”
Larx grimaced. “Really, Mary-Beth? Can’t I go home and sleep and take some Advil?”
“Mr. Larkin, you can do anything you want to, but I’m telling you, you’re going to wake up in a world of hurt if you don’t go to the hospital!”
“Just give me something to sign,” Larx muttered. “Sorry, darlin’, I’m proud you took my class and ran with it, but I’ve got way too much to do here.”
She looked at him doubtfully even as she was reaching for a clipboard—one that probably had AMA papers on it.
“The kids’ll be home to take care of him,” Aaron said quietly. “And they’ll call me if he gets bad.”
She sighed and took the clipboard back. “Well, it’s good to know someone’s watching out for him. Geez, Mr. Larkin, you totally need a keeper!”
Larx grinned what was probably his best, most evil teacher grin, and she shook her head like he was a naughty child. With a sigh, Larx stood, and Aaron gestured to Kellan for his jacket.
Larx took it, looking a little dazed, and then he paused and smiled impishly. “Why, Deputy, if the whole town sees me in your jacket, won’t they know we’re going steady?”
“Course they will,” Aaron shot back. “That’s the point.” He helped Larx slide his arm in. “Hiding the bloody bandage has nothing to do with it.”
“Not a thing,” Larx agreed through gritted teeth.
Aaron could see the sweat beading on his forehead, and he kissed Larx’s temple, done with being careful. “C’mon, love,” he said quietly. “We can get this done.”
“Yeah, sure.” Larx turned a game smile at Aaron and then shored it up a little for the kids. “C’mon, guys, let’s all go watch your principal pass out on live TV. It’ll be a hoot!”
Together they soldiered to the front of the school, where Eamon was being interviewed by an earnest on-location reporter from a local affiliate.
Eamon had done meet-the-press before. He spoke briefly and succinctly about how
a girl whose mother was wanted for questioning in two violent crimes had come into the school looking for sanctuary.
“But the student was armed?” Marissa Schroeder, rookie reporter at large, asked, sounding confused.
“She had the gun her mother asked her to hide,” Eamon said cagily, “but from everything we know, she had no intention of using it.”
“Didn’t the gun go off?” Marissa asked. She was woefully underdressed for October in the mountains, and Aaron wished someone would go get the poor woman a coat to put over her black blazer and red skirt.
“It was accidental—she was giving the gun to her principal, Mr. Larkin, when she dropped it, and it fired. People forget—guns are dangerous things, particularly in the hands of people who haven’t been taught how to use them. This little girl was tired, distraught, and desperate. She went to a place she felt safe. She’d been told to protect the gun, so she took that too. This was scary, no doubt about it, but don’t make it anything it isn’t, because there’s enough awfulness in the world without that.”
“Well, thank you, Sheriff Mills.” She turned toward the camera in obvious dismissal. “And next we have Principal Lyman Larkin, who was the teacher in the room when the student walked in. Principal Larkin, what can you tell us about this near tragedy?”
“Handguns are dangerous and we shouldn’t give them to children?” Larx said, as though puzzled the woman needed to hear the obvious.
“Is there anything else?” Marissa rooted a little desperately.
Eamon glared at Larx, and Aaron saw the lightbulb go on.
“School is a sanctuary, Marissa,” Larx stated. (Lyman Larkin, Aaron thought giddily. Finally he knew. No wonder he was Larx.) “This student was in pain, and she came to someone she thought she could trust. I talked her into putting the gun down, and it went off accidentally—which hurt, I won’t pretend it didn’t. But I think the larger thing here is that students—even desperate ones on the run from the law—want to feel safe at school.”
