The Twelfth Of Never: A suspense mystery romantic thriller
Page 26
Gideon's gray eyes slowly melted as if not seeing her, the expression on his face was void of emotion. He stared at her for a moment without moving. Then he whispered, "I love you."
Jenny grabbed Gideon quickly. She tried to hold him up in her arms, but the weight of him was too much and he slid to the ground while Jenny clung to him.
Jenny looked beyond Gideon to Ian. The small puff of blue smoke escaped the gun. Ian stood motionless, and then that smile crossed his face again.
"Why?" It was all Jenny could say. Gideon lay on the pavement, covering her with his blood. She knelt in front of him as she stared up at Ian.
"He was living on borrowed time."
Gideon was a crumpled mass of flesh in front of her. Jenny touched his cheek gently with the back of her hand. She longed to be back in his arms, to feel his strength, to have him protect her, but knew it could never be with Ian alive.
"When will the killing end?" Jenny's voice quivered as she waited for Ian to pull the trigger and finish her too.
Ian ignored her question, took a drag off his cigarette then tossed it into the fountain. The gun never left its target.
"There's still the matter of Mr. March," Ian said coolly.
Jenny looked at Gideon, whose back was to Ian. Finally Gideon opened his eyes, without moving his head he whispered to Jenny. "Unstrap my gun and put it in my left hand."
Jenny could not move for a moment as she thought about what he was asking her to do. Slowly, without thinking, she reached into his jacket, undid the snap while watching Ian. Jenny slid her hand lower, until she felt the cool metal instrument of death. It was covered in warm blood, and once she grasped it, she pulled it free and then snapped the safety back. Jenny could feel Gideon's eyes on her, but she could not look down for fear of him stopping her. As much as she wanted to give Gideon the gun she could not let him commit suicide, because that's what he would be doing, if she put the gun in his hand. Jenny slowly stood up as Gideon reached for her but was too weak to stop her from what she was doing.
"Jenny, don't." Gideon whispered.
When Ian saw the gun, a smirk crossed his face. He was not at all concerned about what Jenny planned to do. "I should have finished the job five years ago," Ian said nodding to Gideon on the ground.
"You're sick, and you have to be stopped," Jenny said as she stared at Ian.
Ian laughed, as if he found humor in what she said. His grip tightened on the gun.
"You don't have the nerve."
"Don't push me."
"I did the world a favor when I killed your husband."
Jenny quickly took aim, but could not pull the trigger.
Ian lunged for her. A shot rang out. He stepped back and looked down at his blood-soaked shoulder. His smile disappeared, and then he raised the gun.
Jenny shut her eyes and prayed. The explosion in her eardrums was deafening, but there was no pain and she wondered if that was what it felt like to die. Still she felt the cool morning breeze and heard the sound in the distance of a city coming alive, and then she heard the splashing of water.
Jenny opened her eyes in time to see the crimson water from the fountain pour over the sides as Ian's body bobbed; his eyes were still open looking up at the sky. She was mesmerized by the gaping red hole between his brows.
Jenny waited for a moment before turning around, and once she did, was relieved to see Jake braced up against a tree behind her. She turned back to the fountain. Jenny did not move until she was convinced Ian was indeed dead.
Gideon attempted to get up, but collapsed back onto the concrete. Jenny slowly bent down and wrapped her arms around him.
"Are you okay?" Gideon whispered.
"It's finally over," Jenny said softly.
In the distance the approaching sirens could be heard, but the two did not move. Jenny did not ever want to let go of Gideon for fear of losing him too.
EPILOGUE
Four months after the shooting in the park, Gideon was a student at NYU. After nearly thirteen years with the agency he turned in his resignation. It had always been his desire to teach Sociology. The long road to recovery and career transition was hard for him at first, but with the help of his daughters and Jenny, the transition went smoothly.
The Camp David Accord did not take place for another year. Neither Gideon nor Jenny cared to even think about the reason behind the long delay, and did not ever want to get mixed up in world affairs again.
Gideon proposed to Jenny the spring he received his teaching credentials and accepted the fellowship to teach in the Sociology Department at NYU. It was a joyous time for him, finally finding a happy medium between his personal life and his daughters. Some time later Jenny became pregnant.
It was on their fifth anniversary that Gideon surprised Jenny with a trip during Thanksgiving break. They had spent Thursday on the farm with Jenny's parents. When Friday morning came Gideon packed Jenny up, leaving little Patrick to stay with his grandparents until their return. It was hard for Jenny to be separated from the little boy she had grown to cherish more than life itself, but eagerly looked forward to being alone with her husband.
It had been a long drive to Washington, DC; Jenny had no inkling why they were going to the capital and she did not care. Gideon always liked surprising her and as long as they were together, nothing else mattered. Once there, they checked into a hotel in the heart of the city and watched the lights over the Capitol during the night.
Gideon had promised her a surprise, but made her wait until morning. It was nearly ten when they checked out of the hotel. The ground was still covered from the light snow that had fallen the night before, and the temperature was well into the thirties. They drove down the busy streets until they approached the sign Gideon had been watching for.
In the distance Jenny could see the dark gray granite monument sprawled across the park. Gideon pulled up to the curb, parked the car, and then walked over to Jenny's side and helped her out.
The snow that had collected on the top edge of the monument melted from the warm morning sun. It sent little droplets of tears streaming down across the names, symbolizing a nation still in mourning.
Slowly the two walked the long length until Gideon pointed out a name familiar to Jenny, Patrick Morgan. Tears formed as she thought about the brother she lost so many years ago. It seemed like a lifetime now. Jenny turned around and started walking back to the car, thinking that was why Gideon brought her to this place. But he reached for her and pulled her further down the path.
It was at the end of the next section where Gideon stopped and turned to Jenny as he pointed down. It was then she saw the name etched on the bottom row next to the ground, John M. Hamilton. Jenny's heart ached as tears streamed down her cheek and felt the strong arms of her husband support her.
John had been a distant memory for her, but seeing the monument and his name etched in the gray granite made the pain of that war and the pain she suffered come flooding to the surface.
Gideon whispered, "We may have left him behind, but I wanted you to know the whole nation will always remember him and mourn his death."
They stood in front of the granite monument. Gideon held Jenny tightly while she wept for a man she once loved. That morning each suffered their own sorrow, he for a lost comrade, she for a lost love. But, together, the scars of that war would heal.
The End
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