I’ll be here for you. Always.
—Drew Callahan
Drew
I called 911 right before I opened the door. I don’t know what compelled me to peek through the front window but I’m so fucking glad I did. Adele is standing there pointing a gun at Fable—hell!I almost bolted outside right then.
But I knew I needed to keep a calm head. Fable’s life was at stake here. I needed to handle this right. So I told the emergency operator there was a crazy woman waving a gun around my parking lot and hung up.
Now the crazy woman is looking straight at me. I recognize that look. For a moment, I feel like I’m fifteen again. Trapped, with nowhere to go. Hating myself for what’s about to happen. Wishing I were strong enough to tell her no. That awful helplessness is winding its way through me, paralyzing me for one long, agonizing moment.
And then my girl says the magic word, the one that automatically springs me into action.
“Adele. Put the gun down.” My voice is firm. I don’t want her to argue with me.
“No.” Her voice is shaky, as is the smile she flashes at me. “She’s ruined my life, Andrew. It’s all her fault.”
“It’s not her fault. It’s mine.” I start down the sidewalk toward where they’re standing. “I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
She frowns. Tears dampen her cheeks; her eyes are filled with so much sadness. This woman is completely broken. Lost.
Yet I can’t work up an ounce of sympathy for her. Everything that’s happened to her, she’s brought on herself.
“You’re not sorry.” Adele shakes her head. “None of you are. You don’t care what happens to me. How I’ve lost everything. Where am I supposed to go now? What am I supposed to do?”
I focus all of my attention on Adele. I’m worried about Fable. I hate that Adele is pointing a gun at her. But I can’t let the fear grip me. I need to save my girl. “A divorce isn’t the end of the world.”
“Yes, it is!” Adele wails, waving the gun around. “I’m ruined. I have nothing. Nothing to live for.”
“Put the gun down,” I say softly. She’s scaring me. I chance a look at Fable and her posture is rigid, her shoulders back. She looks almost defiant.
But I note the fear in her gaze, the way her lips tremble subtly. She’s scared as hell.
So am I.
“I should just shoot her now and put her out of her misery,” Adele mutters.
“No!” I clamp my lips shut, pissed that I yelled at her. I just showed my hand and hope like hell it didn’t register with Adele. “You’ll go to jail. Do you want that? To spend the rest of your life in prison?”
Adele shrugs. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore.”
“Shootme, then,” I say, stepping in front of Fable. “If you’re going to do it, shoot me. You can’t blame Fable. She has nothing to do with any of this.”
“She has everything to do with it. She stole you from me, Andrew. You were mine. You belonged to me. And then you left me. You found someone else. You bring her back home and flaunt her all over the place. She’s pretty and young and gets to be with you whenever she wants.” Adele aims the gun right at my chest. “I hate her!”
“You hateme,” I remind her. “I’m the one who rejected you, who pushed you away. It’s my fault.”
Fable presses her fingers against the middle of my back. That one little touch fuels me, makes me stronger. Clears my head and allows me to focus on what I need to do.
Slowly, I reach out toward Adele. “Give me the gun.”
She shakes her head furiously. “No.”
“Give it to me.”
“Fuck you!” She stretches out her arms straight in front, both hands gripping the gun tight, her index finger sneaking around the trigger. “Step out of the way, Andrew.”
“No. Give. Me. The. Gun.”
