The Unseen Enemy Series

Chapter 112

Dallas was on his stomach, his rifle set up and his finger on the trigger, his friends behind him. They were all watching the monitor, the guys in horror, Dallas coolly, reassessing the angle of the curve. Olivia and Greg were standing now, and that actually helped things immeasurably. He ignored the fact that Greg was cutting Olivia’s left cheek; ignored her clear distress. Then he realized that he couldn’t just pretend that she wasn’t there.

He knew that this may well be the last time he saw Olivia alive, and he wanted to take one final look, to see how she was in what were possibly her final few seconds. No turning away from her terror, no denying the pain she was in, no hiding from just how badly he’d failed her. If he was going to hate himself for the rest of his f*****g life, Dallas had to know for what exactly he was to blame.

I am so sorry, sweetheart. I f****d this up so bad.

On the monitor, Dallas looked at her, devoured her. Greg had her turned to face the window now and he was standing behind her, hissing into her ear, the knife held to her throat. Dallas lingered on her large brown eyes, saw how they were wide with mute fear and full of helpless tears. He zeroed in on the s***h on her perfect cheekbone, saw the blood running down her face, thick and bright red. Her beautiful mouth was open as she fought to catch her breath, her lips parted and tight.

Then Dallas remembered her eyes when they had looked up at him from his bed just hours before, warm and loving. He thought about touching her cheek, her skin soft under his fingertips. And he remembered her sweet mouth on his own, warm and open, panting his name as Olivia came with him buried deep inside her body.

I love you, Olivia. I love you, baby.

Now Dallas looked through the rifle scope and changed his focus. His whole world became a spot in the middle of Greg’s forehead, right now visible only in Dallas’ mind’s eye. That tiny space was all he saw, nothing and nobody else existed, not anywhere. He stared at that small patch of skin – no more than one-half of a square inch – and imagined his bullet going in right there. He took a deep breath, listened to the rhythm of his own slow, steady heartbeat. Breathed out between beats. And took the shot.

****

For the rest of her life, Olivia would never clearly remember what happened in the few seconds after she heard the shot. It was a mixture of sounds and sensations, all jumbled together, all terrifying.

Glass breaking. Something brushing past her temple, soft and quick as a breath. Then a sound like a watermelon bursting, and something hot and wet spraying across her hair and the back of her neck. Greg letting go of her and falling without a sound, just free-falling backwards and down to the ground, his eyes wide open, already dead. And Olivia took several shaky steps forward and stood there, staring out the shattered window at Dallas on a roof, lowering a rifle. Their eyes met, and he was all she saw.

Suddenly, the door behind her was kicked open, and she turned with a scream. She fell to her knees, all strength gone, and curled herself into a ball on the floor. Her hands were in her hair, her elbows tight against her head, her face tucked down in her chest. Someone touched her shoulder, and she flinched and moved away.

“No!” Olivia cried. “No, no, no…”

“Olivia.” She didn’t recognize the voice. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, not ready to come out and face what had just happened.

“Olivia, we need to take a look at you, OK?” Hands tried to pry her elbows away from her head and she screamed again. “Olivia, please…”

“Hey, don’t touch her. Back the f**k off.”

The hands let go, and Olivia let out a shaky breath of relief. Someone sat down on the floor next to her.

“Olivia? Sweetheart, it’s Sully. I’m not going to touch you, OK? Nobody is.”

She nodded.

“Dallas is coming, Liv,” he said softly. “He’ll be here any second. Just hang in there, OK?”

Olivia closed her eyes, tried to remember to keep breathing. All she had to do was hold on until Dallas got to her, then she could fall apart completely. He’d gather up the pieces, put her back together.

Then suddenly he was there, down on the floor with her, pulling her into those strong arms, wrapping her in a blanket. Even with her eyes still shut tight, she knew it was him; she curled up on his lap, buried her face in his chest. He was warm and huge and so achingly familiar against her own body, and all she wanted to do was stay right where she was forever. His scent hit her then – male and musky, fresh lime and soap – and that’s when she really knew that it was all over.

“Olivia,” he murmured. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.”

“Don’t let go,” she whispered. “Don’t let me go.”

“No way, baby.” His arms tightened. “Never.”

The tears started now, hot and fast. He both felt and heard her crying, and his hand was on the back of her head, pressing her into his warmth and strength, offering comfort and privacy. Olivia cried for a long time, gasping and shaking, and then suddenly, she was quiet and unmoving.

Dallas held her away from him, saw that she was out cold. That was when he nodded at the medical team to take her. They lifted her out of his arms and he looked down at his clothes; his shirt was covered in her blood.

This is all your fault. You failed her. Completely. And when she figures that out? You’re never going to see her again.