Chapter Thirteen
Thirty Minutes Earlier
Damascus
Main Street
Leaving The Café
Someone had to hustle, and that ‘someone’ was Gene. The idea of leaving Ethan alone didn’t sit well with him now that the media dogs had been called out on them. In fact, the idea that his partner was alone made him all kinds of twitchy.
So, time was of the essence.
As he jogged down the street, paper in hand, Gene was focused on something he saw in route to the fax place up ahead. A woman was putting out a sign, and on it, he saw one thing that had his full attention.
Some people believed in signs, and he was absolutely one of them. This time, it was a literal one.
The chalkboard that she’d placed on the sidewalk called to him.
‘Wedding season is approaching. Get your loved one a ring and take the plunge.’
Well, shit.
That caught him off guard for a few reasons. If that wasn’t the universe trying to tell him something, what was it?
Instead of walking down the street a few more buildings, Gene headed inside as if his legs were on autopilot.
The idea of giving them both something to hold onto made Gene very happy.
Giddy, even.
They couldn’t get married officially since that would mean being removed as partners in the FBI, but a ring was a symbol they’d both take seriously.
It was that vow he and Ethan both needed.
So, that whim became a dream he might just be able to grab hold of and give them both.
Inside, the sales lady continued to put things out. She smiled at him, and Gene knew that he needed to do this quickly. Ethan thought he was going to the fax place, and he had to keep that facade up so that he could surprise him.
Granted, his mate said that something permanent was bouncing around in his head behind the obligation of working this case, and Gene hoped it was this right here.
COMMITMENT.
“Can I help you?” she asked, heading his way.
Oh, he hoped so.
“I saw your sign. I need to buy a ring, but I have to do it damn fast before my significant other figures out that I’m up to something.”
That made her laugh.
“Oh, well, I’d love to help you. What do you need, exactly?”
Gene wanted to propose.
Or make a promise.
He wanted to give Ethan what he needed, and what he also needed.
A vow.
Deep down, he knew they’d not be able to get married for a very long time, despite what Timothy had told him, so this wouldn’t be a wedding ring, but more a guarantee that he would be his forever. He had the paperclip ring that was made as a token, but this…
This needed to be perfect.
“I really just want two bands. My partner isn’t an engagement ring kind of a person.”
That amused him.
For a few reasons.
“Well, we have MANY bands. You just have to choose what you want and go from there.”
He could do that.
Staring down into the case, there were two shiny gold rings side-by-side, and they were simple.
They would make a statement but not scream to get too much attention.
That was perfect.
Why?
Because they were a matched set—like them.
“Can I see those?” he asked, hoping he could make this work. They looked different sizes, which was common. A husband’s finger tended to be bigger than a wife’s, and Gene’s fingers were definitely thicker than Ethan’s.
In his head, he was praying, but he was also going to take it as another sign if they worked out.
Gene was a simple guy, but the idea of a promise ring to lock them into marriage one day made him so incredibly happy. Ethan deserved that joy, too.
As he was thinking about giving Ethan a ring, the sales lady was yapping about something regarding sizing, but he didn’t go there. All he wanted was to hold those rings and hope they would be perfect without alterations.
“I’ll worry about that after,” he said. “Can I see them?” he asked again.
This time, she pulled them out, and he held them in his palm. They shined in their pristine gold and called to him.
When he went to try one on, it fit perfectly. The second one fit his pinkie, and he knew that was the size of Ethan’s ring finger.
“Do you need them sized?”
He shook his head.
“No, they are perfect. I’ll take them,” he said, his heart thumping in his chest. The universe was driving this bus, and he wanted nothing more than to stay on that ride.
Right to Marriage-ville.
“I don’t need them sized.”
She looked confused.
“They seem to be both male sizes. That’s a pretty big ring. Maybe you should bring her in and…”
He stopped her.
“It’s not a she. It’s a he, and I know what his fingers look like. It will fit him.”
She blinked.
“Oh, okay,” she said.
Gene didn’t care what she was thinking. This was a defining moment in his life.
So, he dropped his credit card onto the counter and waited for her to ring them up. Then, he signed, slipped the box into his pocket, and then headed out.
He’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a spring in his step as his heart overflowed with joy.
Now, all he had to do was give the ring to Ethan and see if he felt the same.
Words were one thing, but action…that would say it all.
Outside of the shop, Gene kept heading toward the fax place. All in all, it took twenty minutes, and he might just be able to get back to Ethan without him suspecting anything.
He might have to lie about a line at the place to send a fax, but a little white lie wouldn’t hurt when it was made to cover for a big, joyous moment.
Right?
As he headed to the copy shop, he glanced at his watch. It was open, thank God.
Inside, he asked about a fax machine, and gave the man the pages he needed faxed to Salt Lake City with the partial print on them. Then, he paid when they went through.
Now, he needed to get back to Ethan.
As Gene was walking out, he’d be lying if he said he was paying attention. Instead, he was holding that black box in his pocket as he whistled.
That’s when he was pulled from his daydream. It was when he heard a squeal of tires, and at first, he just thought someone took the corner too fast, or the media had spotted him and was turning around.
Yeah, it wasn’t.
It was that telltale POP POP POP POP POP that gave it away.
Diving for the sidewalk, he covered his head with his casted arm and held his breath as Hell broke out all around him.
There were screams of terror.
When he looked over, there was blood everywhere.
And Gene had one hell of a problem.
The killer wanted blood.
HIS.
* * * Blackhawk & Cantrell * * *
Present Time
Same Street
Oh, Ethan Blackhawk ran like he’d never run before in his life. From the time he heard the shots to the time he raced down the street, he didn’t find a shooter, but he found pandemonium in its wake.
All around the shops, chaos had broken out.
People were screaming and running toward him as he ran toward where the shots originated.
And where Gene had headed.
He nearly tripped over a chalkboard sign outside of one shop but managed to stay on his feet as he dodged people. The citizens trying to escape panicked as they saw him running with his gun out.
They were screaming one thing.
‘GUN!’
Well, yeah, because he had one, and the badge to go with it.
It was when he came to a crowd that he pulled his badge and fought to get through them.
The second he did, it hit him hard, making him panic even more.
There was the scent of blood in the air.
A LOT of blood.
Oh, God!
His heart was racing as he pushed through the crowd to get to what they were circling.
Ethan could hear himself screaming ‘FBI! MOVE!’ as he pushed through the throngs of people.
That’s when he saw the aftermath.
On the ground in front of him, blood had pooled, and there was a person down.
But it wasn’t Gene.
No.
Instead, he was beside the woman, holding his coat against her body, trying to staunch the blood flow.
First, there was relief, and then came the realization that he had to do something. So, he sprang into action.
“BACK UP!” he shouted, as he tried to control the scene. Seeing that Gene was okay got his heart and brain functioning again. “Someone call for an ambulance,” he stated.
Not far off, the media was filming this, and he knew this was about to explode.
Oh, and what little anonymity they had working this case was just shot to shit.
It pissed him off because there was no doubt this was tied to them. Had they not been tracking them, reporting like the vultures they were, the person who did this, likely their killer, wouldn’t have taken shots at them.
Because Ethan didn’t buy for a single second that this was a random act of violence with Gene involved.
It had gone down right outside the copy shop.
Yeah, no.
Dropping down, he needed to get information.
“What happened?” Ethan asked, his heart still racing in his chest. Not only did Gene not have a gun, but he wasn’t wearing a vest, either.
They hadn’t had them in Puerto Rico, and Gene didn’t bring one from home when he’d chased him down.
His partner clued him in, and Gene was damn grateful Ethan was there, safe and sound.
This had been close.
TOO.
CLOSE.
“I was coming out of the shop, and a car went by. I heard the tires, and then it opened fire. She was hit,” he said, his coat soaking up her blood.
The woman on the ground was pale.
In fact, she was gray.
Ethan touched her throat to assess the only gunshot victim, and there was no pulse.
Pulling off his coat, he tossed it behind him, and he tried to save the woman. She was losing a lot of blood, but if her heart stopped, she stopped.
The risk was worth saving her. Hopefully, compressions would keep pressure on the wounds.
“Beginning chest compressions,” he said.
And they did.
In the distance, they heard sirens, and all they could hope was help would get there fast. This poor woman didn’t deserve this, and she’d been caught up in this mess.
“I’ll keep compression,” Gene said, as his hands were below where Ethan would have to compress. It wasn’t easy with his cast, but he had to fight for this woman.
They began.