“Do you know I came to his funeral? I watched you wrap your arms around my girl. I watched you give a eulogy about my father. You called him Dad, cried like he was yours.”
“This is not the way, Logan. We can work this out.”
“No, this ends today, and Hayley, London, and I will be long gone when my neighbor returns to his clean home. You and your friend there will have had an accident, your bodies burned beyond recognition.”
“Where’s London?”
“With Celia, in my apartment. She’s safe, watching cartoons. I told her Mommy would be with us soon, and we were going on a vacation.”
I feel the relief in my soul. He won’t hurt London. He won’t.
“And Hayley?”
“She’s okay too. If she plays nice, it’ll stay that way. She’s in the bedroom back there.” Hayley was in this same apartment all this time.
“Let them go, Logan. This is between you and me.”
“It was never about anyone but you, Wyatt. Isn’t that the only person you care about?”
“This doesn’t have to end badly.”
“Look, the way I see it is I’m the one with the gun, so I’m the one the odds are in favor of.”
He grins at me like a Cheshire cat.
In his second of ululation, I charge at him, and his gun falls with a thud to the floor but not before he shoots me in the foot. It hurts like hell, but I’m on him. I drag him off the chair, and my fist makes contact with his face. I feel something shatter, his jawbone perhaps. But he’s strong; he knocks the air out of me by punching me in my gut once, twice. I grunt and groan in agony. My foot feels like it’s on fire. He stands to his feet, and he kicks me in the face. I lift my other foot and slam it into his balls.
He topples forward. I climb on top of him, trying to pry the gun from his hands. We roll on the floor, wrestling to dominate the other. He heads me, and all goes black for a second, and a second is all it takes for him to shoot me in the chest.
The sensation is warm at first, comforting, and then a searing heat as it explodes inside me. I fall to the ground, my head against the plush carpet.
And just as the darkness threatens me, I hear it. A second and third shot.
“Wyatt. Hang in there, man. Hang in there.”
“Blake, London, in his apartment . . . Here. Hayley’s here . . .”
And then I close my eyes and welcome the darkness.
* * *
I wakeup to the sound of machines beeping all around me. The smell of antiseptic is heavy in the air.
“Hayley.” My eyes shoot open, and I sit upright in the bed, startling the nursing staff. I start to rip the drip off my arm, blood spurting everywhere. “Where are they?”
“Mr. Barnes, please, just calm down. I will get your family,” one of the nurses says while the other nurses talk in hurried voices about getting the doctor.
“Can I tend to this, Mr. Barnes? Your antibiotic is still running.”
“I want to see my daughter and her mother!” I growl, and the door swings open, and sunshine enters the room. She brings with her light and love and beauty. I blink, wishing for this not to be a dream.
“Wyatt . . .,” she whispers, tears streaming down her face. “I thought I’d lost you.”
“That is not an option, Hayley Bella.”
She looks at me, and I reach up to rub a tear from her eye.
She walks into my arms, and I hold her there, knowing that she is so much more than a dream.
“Daddy!” London runs up to my bed hopping on while a nurse struggles to get me cleaned up, pulling off the bedding.
“She knows?” I search Hayley’s eyes, and she nods. Tears glistening her baby blues.
“Hey, sweetheart.” I kiss London’s forehead. “It’s terrific to meet you.” My voice cracks and I cry, there in the presence of my beautiful girls.
This was where my life began and would end.
This was everything.
This was my honor.
