Chapter 11

ELI

"Caleb?" I tried not to show my panic as I pinched his cheek. It seemed to be the one place he wasn't bleeding, but it didn't mean anything when his breaths were so quiet.

Two agents stood behind me, an ambulance behind them. Back doors open, two EMTs hovering, and the only things around us were the yellow lights of the gas station and the whirring cicadas. No cars passing, no one around apart from the attendant sitting behind the bulletproof glass, who was staring intensely at the scene.

The car door opened, Caleb slumped in his seat, and me hunched down next to him, leaning against the open door and forcing myself to not to give in to the pain of my broken arm and ribs. I tried to keep him awake as we drove. It was ten minutes of listening to nothing but him wheezing, trying to focus on the road while praying he didn't stop.

"Caleb," I said softly, pinching him again. "Fuck, Caleb, please," I winced, my voice breaking. "I need you to wake up."

I sunk my nails in harder. Like his teeth in my neck, my fingers could leave him a permanent mark.

His weak groan was cut by a flinch, brows tight as his eyes fluttered open.

"What…Eli…? What's happening?"

Why did this have to be the first time we met as real people? I had nothing to hide behind now; I had given him as much about myself as I could in that short space we had together to reach the gas station. Maybe now he could see me as more than a ball of rage and hate. And yet, we were both so close to death I had to wonder if it made a difference.

"Caleb, do you trust me?" I asked, unable to hide my heartbreak. I had a minute before the agents would call me back and take over.

"What the fuck?" Caleb choked, barely able to get the words out. "Eli, what the fuck is this?"

"Hey, listen to me," I bit out. My fingers softened, pressing my palm to his flushed cheek. "Do you trust me?"

He was ruined because of me. Blood oozed from his chest, too heavy and thick to be a surface wound. We used to beat the shit out of each other every week, but that was a far cry from a bullet in the chest.

I held on to him, desperately trying to keep him awake as tears beaded at the corners of my eyes.

There wasn't space for this.

He had to survive. No matter what the agents did to him, they would try to save him. I had to believe that.

Wariness crossed his face, his mouth closing as his chest heaved. And he said nothing.

Rasping breaths, a deep glare, he reached out and grasped my elbow, squeezing me. Though it was my good arm, pain still shuddered through me.

"What's happening?" he asked again, his voice so groggy I thought he might pass out again.

I didn't know how to explain to him what was about to happen because I didn't know either.

I was exhausted. I didn't realise how tired I was until the man I loved lay bleeding before me. I had my plan of revenge and the clear steps I had to take to achieve it. Sam was dead, I could leave Caleb to die and fish the gun out of the footwell of my car. Sam would appreciate the poetry of shooting myself with the gun that killed him.

But, like with my daughter, I had someone I needed to protect. I couldn't stop until I made sure Caleb lived. Some part of my heart that still beat with humanity urged me to make sure he survived. And not just because he was the only thing that brought me relief anymore.

The agents couldn't see us, hidden by my body, so I took the chance to steal a kiss from him.

A tear slid down my cheek, landing on his own as I withdrew.

I brushed it away with the tip of my finger running over darkening bruises. "I love you," I said, so quietly he might not have heard me. "I love you," I repeated, loud enough that his eyes widened. "I love you so fucking much it hurts. So, please, Caleb, trust me. Whatever happens, believe that it's for you." It was a promise I didn't know that I could keep. I hadn't made a choice, but hope might drive him to try to live.

Fear beating off of him, Caleb's chest heaved again as he took a deep breath. "Fuck. You," he gasped, his words almost lost through his rattling chest. "And your love."

"Agent Knightly," a voice loomed from behind me, and my muscles stiffened at the other agent's voice. I gave Caleb a final look. I didn't want to let him go, but who knew how many breaths he had left?

Caleb shot out a hand again and I winced as his fingers dug into my broken arm. "Me too," he choked, the panic in his stare cut harder than his words. "I love you too."

Grief pummelled through me, freezing me in place. I didn't need him to say it. I always knew.

Even if I never saw Lacey again, I knew her love wouldn't change, even if she forgot who I was. And here, with Caleb, it could be the same. Even if we never met again, he knew what he meant to me.

I wish he hadn't replied. It made it more difficult to leave him.

I slipped on scowl as I pulled away, his hand dropping to his stomach. I straightened, twisting one-eighty to rise and face Agent Henderson as I swallowed down anything that could give me away. I nodded to the EMTs as I stepped back, forcing myself to walk ten paces before I turned to watch them surge forward, pushing the rattling bed up to the car.

I stood there, my overloaded body and mind trying to catch up. The black paint of my car picked up the shine of flashing red lights as they carefully removed Caleb. He was still awake, groaning, swearing with his last breaths, exactly how I imagined he would at the end. Caleb would never go down without a fight.

"Agent Knightly," Henderson said again. Standing beside me, he was at least a head taller than me and twice as thin. The same age as me, he liked his long coats, even in the thick humid air, and his brown beard and long hair probably didn't do anything to help either. I could tell he was about to speak. To congratulate me or ask me to report or something else I couldn't stand to hear right now. I stopped him before he had the chance.

"Sam Donelli is dead and his son is here for questioning," I stated, my voice cold. "Is the mission complete?" I asked, not turning my head. I wouldn't take my eyes off of Caleb until the ambulance faded into the desert.

"Yes." Henderson nodded. "We need you back at base for clearance."

"I'll write separate reports on the incident within the week," I replied. "Agent Jones and Agent Chalmer's families have to be informed of their loss."

"Very well. But that doesn't mean you can escape a debriefing."

"And then the operation will be closed?" I asked again, thrusting my hands in my pockets to hide my shakes.

The deal was that I completed the operation and I would be freed from service with a considerable benefit package. It didn't mean the Donellis would stop. I had only killed the immediate family. There were still allies who could regroup. I never had plans to deal with them. Returning to my daughter could be an option, but I'd have to take her and run.

The killings, the revenge, taking out the Donellis one by one. None of it mattered anymore, not when Sam was dead. That was the final goal, that was the measure of success in the Bureau's eyes.

They believed, with Sam dead, that the Donelli empire would crumble, but there was too much money at stake for them to end completely. Someone would step in to take over.

I watched as they wheeled Caleb's gurney towards the ambulance, another EMT emerging to help pull the gurney up into the ambulance.

I didn't know if I would ever see Caleb again. They might let him heal and lock him up, before torturing him for the information they wanted. Or they might lose his files, and one day he would disappear, slip through the cracks so everyone forgot and no one could find him. Caleb was never fated for a happy life, but I could try to do something to help him. Though ‘help' was a pathetic word in this situation.

But Lacey was waiting for me. Even if she thought I was dead, even if she didn't remember me, I had a family, I had a new life I could step towards if I wanted it. I could leave the Bureau, take Lacey with me, find somewhere to live away from violence where she would be truly safe.

Even if I was ruined. Even if I couldn't live without blood and death, with urges so dark I didn't know if I could live without killing. How could I expose her to such things?

But, like with Caleb, she brought me relief. Just a picture of her smiling eased my hatred.

My body screamed with the bleeding in my stomach and my broken arm, though I hid it well enough. All I had to do was tell them my ribs were broken and they'd throw me in the ambulance. I could stay with Caleb, protect him from whatever shit the Bureau might throw at him.

More and more arguments kept rising of why I should go in the ambulance, quickly drowned out by reasons I should get in the car, go to the Bureau, and finish my service to be with Lacey again.

My daughter, who was already safe, but the reason I started killing. Or Caleb, who's life hung in the balance, who I hated and loved so desperately that both leaving and staying with him would break my heart.

Peace or Chaos.

Truth or a Lie.

"Agent Knightly," Henderson said from behind me. "We need to go."

He opened the back door of his car and stepped aside for me to enter just as an EMT jumped out of the ambulance. "We're leaving!" she shouted before slamming the double doors shut, aiming for the driver's seat.

"Agent Knightly?" Henderson asked, watching me in confusion. "Aren't you coming?"

I notched my head back, my chin lifting to absorb the endless wash of the open night sky above me, blurred by the sharp yellow fluorescent lines of the gas station and stinging tears, my heart burning at the choice laid before me.

My eyes slowly closed, blocking out everything but the red whirling flash of the ambulance, and the sound of the engine of Henderson's car beside me.

Where was I going? How could I make a choice? Which path was I supposed to take when neither of them led me to darkness?

THE END.