Chapter 29
Fortunately, our luck improves after that.
We can’t see details from up so high, but we get the general sense of how the fight plays out on the road. The groups in the front and rear advance toward the disabled trucks. The Holy Rollers shoot back, but they’re taken by surprise and outnumbered.
Logan overestimated this morning. The whole thing is over in about six minutes.
As soon as the shooting stops, we head back down the hill with me leaning heavily on Micah and Burgundy carrying the rifle.
We’re all concentrating on our footing to avert another disaster, but at one point I look up at Micah and ask, “Can you hear anything out of your right ear?”
“A little,” he admits. “It’s mostly a lot of ringing. But it’ll get better. I’m not worried.”
“Okay. But next time we’re bringing extra earplugs.”
Micah huffs with amusement, and Burgundy giggles. She’s got Micah’s blithe spirit. It’s not that they don’t take serious things seriously. It’s more that they never let the weight of the world drag them down.
When we reach the others on the road, they’ve got the survivors of the Holy Rollers corralled in a group near one of the pickups, which are completely shot up by bullets and crashed into the trees on the side of the road.
Jesse is still alive.
His is the first face I see.
I would have assumed I’d feel relieved or vindicated or satisfied or something. Jesse betrayed me in every possible way. And he did it not because he hated me or felt compelled to act against me but because he’s so incredibly weak.
Always led by the strongest voice around him.
But I don’t feel any of those things.
Mostly I just feel sick.
I’m exhausted and still in pain and weirdly nauseated as I limp closer.
Only six of the men are still on their feet. The others are dead or close to it.
“Kat, please,” Jesse says when he sees me.
I ignore him, looking toward Logan, who was talking with a couple of his soldiers. Now he straightens up. Takes a few steps toward me.
And that’s when I realize why there’s a weird hesitation in the air.
Logan was waiting for me.
“Good job with the shooting,” he tells me in the crisp, no-nonsense tone he always uses. “Are you seriously injured?”
“I’m fine.”
Micah snorts. When I glance over, his eyes are laughing.
I honestly didn’t believe myself capable of loving someone as much as I love this man. I’m pretty sure he can see it on my face before I turn back to Logan.
“We aren’t letting them go,” Logan tells me. “Not after they’ve entered my territory and come after my people. But you get first rights if you want.” He pulls his pistol out of his hip holster and offers it to me, butt first.
I look at Logan, his cool, unyielding blue eyes. Look at Jesse, the fear I see on his face.
Then I glance up at Micah and shake my head. “Thanks, but I don’t want it.”
All I want is to take Micah and Molly home.
Micah slides an arm around my waist to support me.
I hear the shots, one after another, as we walk away.
I look even worse than I realized. My face and arms are covered with scratches, and there’s a big gash on my forehead. My ankle is swollen and turning an angry reddish-purple.
I feel like crap, and I look that way too.
Micah suggests we stay at Logan’s at least overnight since there are folks here with medical knowledge and he wants to make sure all my injuries are superficial.
I’d much rather go home today, but I can see the sense in his suggestion. I agree and am rewarded by the wash of warm relief on his face.
I spend the rest of the day in Micah’s room. Not because I’m too weak to do normal, daily routines but because I’m too exhausted to want to try. I don’t want to put on a strong face for a bunch of strangers, and Micah obviously thinks that my resting all afternoon is the right thing to do.
Deck and Lilah stop by to check on me and express admiration for my shooting. Burgundy comes by too and ends up hanging out for almost an hour, lounging on the bed beside me and talking through everything that’s happened.
I don’t mind the heart-to-heart as much as I would have six months ago.
In fact, I kind of like it.
Before she leaves, she asks me teasingly if a wedding might be in the future, and if it is, she insists on being either the maid of honor or the best man.
Laughing—it’s as impossible to stay annoyed with her as it is with Micah—I give her a stern look. “Micah and I haven’t even known each other that long.”
“What does that have to do with anything? Micah has never been in love before. Not ever. I’m his sister, and I know.
He always kind of strolled through life, and I wasn’t sure he’d ever want to really grow up.
Step up. You know what I mean? Not that he was ever lazy or immature, but he didn’t want to risk living all the way.
But he’s a different man than he was when I left him.
Maybe some of the change is because he thought he lost me, but more of it is because of you.
He’s not going anywhere, Kat. You could push him away, and he still wouldn’t budge. The man is as stubborn as a mule.”
This makes me laugh again. “That I already know. And my guess is that it runs in the family. But you don’t have to worry.
I’m not going to leave him. I’m not going to break his heart.
I’m not going to push him away. I never knew—” To my surprise, my voice breaks just slightly.
With a wobbly smile, I try again, “I never knew life could be good like this, and I never knew I could trust someone to go through life with me. I’m not going to throw it away now that I’ve found it. ”
Burgundy’s expression twists with emotion the way I’ve seen Micah’s do more than once. She sniffs, and then she nods. “Good. Because he deserves the life he wants, and that’s obviously with you.”