Screw that.
try not to hyperventilate. Ethan’s got everything lined up: the gun, the bullets, safety glasses, and even a pair of earmuffs to deaden the sound.
We’re on the back part of the farm where they do target practice. There’s a wooden structure that’s used as a gun rest at different heights so you can either stand or sit while shooting. In front of us are targets at varying distances.
“First thing I want you to understand is this is a completely safe situation. We’re far enough away that there is no chance you will hit anyone or anything other than the target or the hay bale behind the targets. It’s just me and you, Anna. No one else.”
I nod and stare at the gun. As much as I try to keep the memories away, my mind instantly fills with the images of dead bodies and pools of blood.
Taking a step back, Ethan sees I’m having trouble and wraps his arms around me. “Anna, we don’t have to do this today. Or ever. It’s okay.”
I shake my head and answer, “No, I don’t want to be scared anymore.” He thinks I’m talking just about the gun, but it’s so much more than that.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Ethan knows all about my family’s time in the Witness Protection Program, but he’s only heard the cold, hard facts that Agent Williams laid out. I witnessed two murders—not only was my dad’s boss killed in front of me, but so was his son, Brandon, the boy I’d had a crush on for years.
It was so traumatizing I blocked that night out completely, and had no memory of it for months. But that memory returned right here on this very farm when I rode along on a hog hunt with Ethan. His dog, Bandit, was hurt and he was forced to shoot the feral hog attacking him. The sight of the gun, the crack of the blast, and the smell of the smoke flooded me with memories of that night.
Until that night on the farm, I thought the reason we were in the program was because my dad had done something horrible.
But it was me all along. I was the one the suits were protecting. I was the reason we were forced to leave our home in Scottsdale, our friends, everything we’d ever known.
I was the reason my mom turned to drinking. She couldn’t handle staying in the program indefinitely while everyone waited for my missing memories to return, the suits showing up in the middle of the night because our location had been compromised. I was the reason she nearly drank herself to death and is now recovering in a treatment facility in Baton Rouge.
I drop down on the small stool next to the gun rest and bury my head in my hands. Ethan crouches down beside me, running his hand over my head in slow, calming strokes.
“Talk to me,” he whispers.
“I can still see Brandon on the floor in that room. When I shut my eyes, he’s there. One leg was at an odd angle and his shoe was untied. And the blood. It was everywhere. The room smelled like gun smoke and blood…. His body was just so…still.”
Ethan pulls me in closer.
“And then the man who shot them, Sanchez, found me behind the couch where I was hiding and I knew I was next. He put that gun in my face and it was like everything was moving in slow motion. I thought I was dead.”
A broken sob escapes my mouth and Ethan brings my face to his.
“But you survived because you are strong and smart. Don’t forget that part. You are strong and smart.”
“The only reason he didn’t kill me was because of those ledgers. What if I hadn’t seen Brandon’s dad put them in that wall safe? What if Sanchez hadn’t wanted them back badly enough and he shot me on the spot? If the cops hadn’t shown up when they did, I would have told him the location and then he would have killed me.”
Those ledgers are what kept my family and me alive for months. The suits wanted me to get my memory back so I could testify against Sanchez. But the drug cartel that Sanchez worked for had heard from him that I knew the ledgers’ location. Ledgers that showed all of the ways Brandon’s dad, who was the head of the accounting firm where my dad worked, had laundered their drug money. It would have completely shut down their operation.
And that’s how “Agent Thomas” came into my life. He wanted the ledgers and knew I could get them for him. He drew me in, making me trust him. I thought he was the only suit who really wanted to help me.
“You’re safe now. Sanchez is dead, remember? He can’t hurt you.”
He’s dead because Thomas slit his throat from one ear to the other. Once the cartel got the ledgers back, they cut Sanchez loose. Apparently there are no second chances in the drug cartel business.
Except for Ethan and me. Thomas could have killed us in Scottsdale, but he didn’t and no one knows why.
“Anna, please tell me why you want to do this.”
“I want to be able to protect myself.” And this is the truth, even if it’s not the whole truth.
I stand up and give myself a good shake. “Please help me, Ethan.”
His expression is guarded but I know him well enough to see that he is struggling with this. He wants to help me, but he doesn’t think this is a good idea. At all.
