“Looks can be deceiving,” I reply.Good one, Ethan.
But it’s true though. I mean, here I was thinking that he was some rich Los Angeles preppy privileged white boy, when really he’s not. He’s from Boston, and actually up close he doesn’t look as stuck-up as I first thought.
And part of me wants to say,good for you, man. Good for you for doing better for yourself.
But I don’t, of course I don’t, because this isn’t that type of situation. We’re not drinking buddies, or gym buddies, and you can’t go talking to someone like that and letting them know that you judged them before really getting to know them. That’s another thing my mom always used to say.
Adam laughs dryly. “That’s very true.”
And see, we do have stuff in common. How strange is this?
“But the thing is,” he continues, “is that this gun isn’t deceiving. Not even a little bit. That’s my property you have there in your arms, and you’re alsoinmy property, and I’m honestly trying to think of a reason why I shouldn’t just kill you right now.”
And,Wow, Adam, you need to work on your mommy issues. Carrie isn’t your property—she’s a person, and you can’t own a person.
“She’s not your property,” I growl out.
The side of his mouth pulls up in a smile. “Sure she is. I paid for her and I own her. Every dirty little hole she has is mine.”
Carrie hasn’t moved or flinched since Adam walked in, but she chooses now to speak up.
“Just let me go, Ethan, and Adam won’t hurt you. Isn’t that right, Adam?”
Adam grins. “That’s not entirely true, sweetheart. I’m still gonna hurt the guy for laying his hands on you.”At least he’s honorable.“I can’t make money when your face is like that, so someone’s gotta be punished.”Or not.“Christ, evenI’dfind it hard to fuck you looking like that.”
So now we’re at a stalemate. I can’t let go of Carrie because Adam will shoot me, but if I don’t let go of her he’ll probably shoot us both anyway. Up close he doesn’t seem the sort of guy that has her best interests at heart. I honestly don’t think he’d care about hurting Carrie if it came to that.
So now what?
Think, Ethan. Think.
“You’ve got about thirty seconds,” Adam says, and he’s looking right at me, not even paying Carrie any attention. And I hate him even more for that. For not showing her the attention she deserves. For not giving a shit that she’s hurt. For caring more about his so-called “property” than he does about the person. And I think it’s that anger that makes me react so carelessly.
Because I can’t stop myself from reacting when Carrie (she must sense this is all going to shit too) tries to get out of my grip. It takes us all by surprise, especially because she hasn’t tried to move since this all started. She turns to lead in my arms and drops to the floor. And this time I don’t have time to grab her, because I know that Adam is going to shoot me. And it’s all a blur as Carrie turns to lead, and I dive at Adam, and Adam fires the gun. And then we are a tangle of limbs, of arms and legs, and there’s kicking and hitting. AndI hate fighting, Adam, I really do. But I’m not a pussy anymore. I learned to fight. I had to if I wanted to stay alive.
And then Carrie has the gun and she aims it at me, but I know she means to aim it at Adam, so when I see the fire in her eyes and I know she’s going to shoot because she raises the gun, I throw him in front of me. AndSee, Carrie? See how I’m still trying to help you?
The gun is louder than I expect it to be.
And the recoil is more than Carrie expects it to be.
And the pain is worse than Adam expects it to be.
And then we all freeze, and I think,Well done, Carrie. We sure showed him. What a great team we make.
Carrie drops the gun and screams, and I’m not stupid so I quickly grab it, and by the time I have it in my hands, she is kneeling by Adam’s side and crying.
“It’s okay,” I say as Adam struggles to breathe and Carrie presses her hand over the bullet wound in his shoulder like she is trying to stem the blood flow. But she can’t because there’s so much blood. “Thank you for saving me, Carrie,” I say, and I mean it, too. She just saved my life. And look what a great team we still make!
I’m smiling as she looks up at me. And honestly, it’s not that I don’t feel bad for Adam, or that Carrie had to save me, it’s just that once again I’m just so grateful to be alive. I lean over and put my hands on my knees while I try to catch my breath.
“Damn, that was a rush, right?” I smile, still grateful that I’m alive. That Carrie saved me for a change. Andwhat beautiful symmetry there is in that.
I was always the one saving her, and now she’s repaying the favor.That’s just fucking beautiful.
“You’re insane!” Carrie screams at me. Her face is blotchy with tears, and swollen and bruised, and she’s still trying to stop Mr. Fancy Asshole Adam from bleeding to death, and her other hand is still on her side where her rib is possibly, probably, more than likely broken. She leans over him and presses her mouth to his. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she says over and over.
And then Adam coughs, and blood sprays from his mouth, and I hate the sight of blood, and I hate to see Carrie so upset. Even if she’s made me just as upset.
But ain’t that always the way?
You hurt the ones you love, whether you mean to or not.
