Color of Forgiveness (49 page)

Myra.

His blood freezes in his veins as if it’s
been turned to ice. He has to get to her, fast. His breath bursts
in and out of his chest as he rips off his coat and drops to his
knees, pressing it against Sabrina’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Hold
this.” He lifts her hand and presses it against his coat to staunch
the blood. A grimace crosses her face as she moans softly.

“You’re gonna be fine, Sabrina. It’s gonna
be okay.” He’s trying to be soothing, but he can hardly force the
words out of his throat because all he can see is Myra’s face. A
flash of her limp, lifeless body lying on the floor with a bullet
hole in her chest hits him hard, almost knocking the breath from
his body. His breathing becomes more and more shallow. He sees her
beautiful face… her eyes closed, her skin pale and drained of life.
What if…? What if he’s too late?

The baby.

His heart jerks painfully in his chest.
Standing, he almost rips the screen door off its hinges. Grabbing
the door handle and yanking as hard as he can, he uses his other
hand to beat on the door. “
Myra!
” he shouts. Yanking his
baseball hat off and throwing it on the porch, he shades his eyes
with his hand to try and peer in through the small window in the
door. He can barely make out anything in the dark room, but he
startles when he catches sight of her. She stands, unmoving, a gun
dangling from her hand.

Dylan almost sinks to his knees in relief,
but he knows something is very wrong. This whole situation, the
entire
scene
is wrong.

“Uh, Dylan, I know you need to make sure
she’s okay, but I’m kind of bleeding,” Sabrina says from behind
him. “If it’s not too much trouble, could you maybe call the
police?”

“Shit, Sabrina, I’m sorry,” Dylan says. He
hurriedly dials 911, keeping his eyes on Myra the entire time. He
hastily tells the operator that there’s been a shooting and rattles
off the address. The operator wants to keep him on the line but he
mumbles he can’t and hangs up.

“They’re on the way,” he quickly says to
Sabrina.

He beats his fist against the window, trying
with all his might to bust through it. Standing back, he kicks and
kicks at the bottom of the door, but it’s a goddamn solid wood
door, and it won’t budge. “
Myra!
” he yells again. He pushes
and tugs on the door handle, his forearm muscles straining with the
effort. His eyes search the porch for any other way to get into the
house.

Pressing his forehead against the glass of
the tiny window, his nails dig painfully into his palms as he
clenches his fists and stares at Myra, calling her name. He pounds
on the door again one last time, trying desperately to get some
kind of reaction out of her. If she doesn’t respond, he’s going to
get something out of his truck and bust out one of her windows.
Finally, she looks up. She stares for a moment before she drops the
gun and runs to the door.

Sagging in relief, his heart throbs
turbulently in his chest, his breathing jagged as he listens to her
on the other of the door, trying to unlock it. He continues to push
and tug on the door handle, praying like hell that it will turn and
open any second.

The door finally opens and his eyes meet
hers, wild with fear. Her hand flies to her mouth, her eyes closing
as her face crumples and she begins sobbing. He lunges at her,
grabbing her, desperate to touch her, desperate to feel her. To
make sure she’s real and that he’s not imaging this. To make sure
she’s alive and breathing and uninjured.

“Myra, oh god, Myra,” he says, panting
heavily, his legs growing weak as his trembling hands touch her
cheeks, her hair, her neck. “Myra, Myra, oh god, Myra…” He chants
as his hands brush against her. Unable to stop himself, his rough
fingers caress her soft skin, touching her over and over again,
everywhere… anywhere he can get his fingers.

Her hands fist his shirt tightly. Holding
her face between his hands, he presses his lips against hers for
just a moment before he begins running his lips over her cheeks and
eyes, kissing her tears away, loving the satiny feel of her skin
underneath his lips.

“Get away from him, you bitch!” a voice
screeches. Startled, Dylan jumps slightly his head turning towards
the voice.

He frowns as he stares at the woman writhing
on the floor with blood seeping from wounds in her shoulder and
knee. “
Rhonda?
”

Myra gasps lightly and he looks down at her.
“You know her?” she asks.

“No. I changed a garage disposal out for her
once.”

“You know me, Dylan,” Rhonda screeches.
“We’re supposed to be together.”

Dylan’s eyes widen. “She’s wearing my
goddamn shirt,” he mumbles under his breath. He pulls Myra closer
to him, wrapping his arms around her as his eyes shoot to Porter.
His heart plummets to his gut.

Rhonda continues to scream, but he ignores
her and looks back down at Myra. “Is Porter…?” he asks, his eyes
moving back to his slumped figure.

“She said she gave him something… to make
him sleep.”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he whispers.
Reaching a hand up, he rubs her cheek softly. His eyes quickly
flash up and down the length of her body just to make double
sure.

She shakes her head as tears continue to
cascade down her cheeks.

His lips touch hers again, just the lightest
touch.

“You shot her?” he asks.

She nods.

“She has a gun?”

She nods again.

“Where is it?”

“I kicked it… under the couch.”

Cupping her face in his hands, he kisses her
lips and her forehead. He gently wipes her tears with his thumbs.
“I’ll be right back. I’m just going to go check on Porter,
okay?”

As she nods, he kisses her forehead one more
time, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. He spots Myra’s gun on the
floor where she dropped it and kicks it towards the hallway, the
opposite direction of Rhonda. Leaning over Porter, he starts to
check his pulse but doesn’t need to when he sees his chest heaving
up and down with his heavy breathing.

As he turns back to Myra, he hears the blare
of approaching sirens. But his breathing stops completely, his
stomach dropping to his feet, when his eyes light upon several cans
of gasoline on the floor. What the fuck was this woman going to do?
Burn down the fucking house with Myra...? He can’t finish that
thought or he might lose the contents of his stomach. His fists
clench painfully, his jaw tightening as he glares at the crazy
bitch. He has to take in a deep breath to control the rage that
builds in him because he wants to grab Myra’s gun and finish the
job she started.

He gently tugs Myra back into his arms as he
hears a lot of commotion that sounds like many vehicles pulling up
outside. Myra leans into him, resting her head against his chest.
Closing his eyes, he kisses the top of her head, breathing her
familiar scent deep into his lungs. Leaning his cheek against her
hair, he rubs her back softly.

When he opens his eyes, he feels a jolt as
if someone just punched him in the stomach as Sabrina’s blue eyes
bore into his through the mesh of the screen door. In his haste to
get to Myra, he’d completely forgotten about her. How could he
forget about her when the woman was fucking shot, for Christ’s
sake? What kind of person does that shit? But then he frowns as he
stares at her face. Through her tears, the corner of her mouth
lifts slightly, her eyes soft, as she gives him the slightest of
nods. She knows. Sabrina fucking knows.

CHAPTER 14

Myra glances around seeing flashing lights
everywhere, blindingly bright. Every single police car in the small
town of Nyssa has to be either in her driveway or parked somewhere
in her yard. There were three ambulances as well. The first to
leave was the one holding Rhonda. She had to be handcuffed to the
gurney and screamed up until the moment they shut the door.

The second with Porter in it just took off a
few moment’s ago. The paramedics informed her that once they get
him to the hospital and draw some blood work, they’ll know what
type of sedatives he was given. But they reassured her and Dylan
that he should recover just fine and that more than likely, he’d
just sleep it off and eventually wake up with a headache.

Dylan’s arm tightens around her waist,
pulling her closer to him as they walk alongside the last gurney;
the one carrying Sabrina. Myra still can’t believe that Sabrina was
shot. Her stomach twists when she thinks about how close Dylan was
to being on the other end of Rhonda’s bullet.

Dylan clears his throat. “We’ll see you at
the hospital, okay?” he says to Sabrina.

Sabrina slowly turns her head and gives him
a small nod, her beautiful face scary pale. They both silently
watch as the paramedics put her in the ambulance and close the
door.

Myra turns towards Dylan and feels his arms
wrapping around her. She stares up into his soft eyes as they stare
down at her, just enjoying the moment. Relishing the fact that he’s
safe and holding her. He reaches his hand up and rubs his thumb
against her cheek. Sagging with relief, she closes her eyes and
leans into his touch.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she hears a male voice
say, “but, Myra? Do you plan on going to the hospital?”

She opens her eyes to see Officer Garcia
staring at her. She looks up at Dylan and he nods, and she has to
agree with him. Physically, she feels fine, but emotionally she’s a
wreck. She’d feel a lot better knowing that the baby was okay as
well.

Looking back at the officer, she nods.

“Okay. If you’d like, I can escort you two
there,” he says as he glances between the two of them. “Then
afterward, we’d like to take your statements, if that’s all right.
The police are going to be here for a while collecting
evidence.”

She looks back up at Dylan and he nods,
raising his eyebrows questioningly. She nods back.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Dylan tells
him.

“Great,” Officer Garcia says. “My car is
over here.” Dylan’s arm stays around her as they follow him to his
squad car. Dylan opens the door for her and helps her inside. She
sits in the middle of the seat, wanting to be as close to him as
possible. Dylan gets in, curling his arm around her shoulders and
resting his other hand in her lap. Wanting the comfort of his skin
against hers, she immediately reaches for his hand and holds it in
both of hers.

The only light in the back of the police car
comes from the occasional street light they pass. After staring
down at their clasped hands for a moment, she looks up at him. “Why
did you show up at the house? I thought you were on your way to
Boise?”

His face grows serious. “I was,” he
whispers. “But I couldn’t leave you… not until I told you some
things.”

“What things?”

He lifts his hand from her lap and touches
her cheek. “I needed to apologize… for pretty much everything I’ve
done and said since I found out about the baby. I’m
so
sorry. I was wrong. I got scared and shit and I acted like a total
ass. Can you forgive me?”

Smiling, she reaches her hand up to touch
his scruffy jaw. “Of course I forgive you,” she whispers. He grabs
her hand and holds it in his as he kisses her knuckles, his lips
lingering on her skin as he stares deep into her eyes.

“Thank you,” he says. “But there’s
more.”

The expression on his face makes Myra’s
heart pound. She raises her eyebrows, waiting for him to
continue.

He lowers her hand, pressing it against his
chest as he leans closer to her. She can feel his heart pounding
through his thin shirt. “I’m in love with you,” he whispers. “I’m
so in love with you that it almost fucking killed me to drive away
from you. I had to come back to tell you.”

A small gasp escapes her as her heart begins
to race and a warm tingling sensation begins growing inside of her.
Her eyes fill with tears. “You, y-you love me?” she whispers.

He smiles. “So much... so fucking much…”

She closes her eyes for a second as a tear
slips out. Opening her eyes, she squeezes his hand still cradled in
his, tucked close to his heart. “I love you too, Dylan. I love you
so much.”

Groaning, his warm lips find hers, so soft,
so gentle… almost reverent. He pulls back slightly, his tear-filled
eyes roving over her face, her lips. “I love you,” he whispers. She
breathes in his words and his warm breath, completely lost… so lost
in him... lost in his words. Lost in this all-consuming love she
feels for him.

“I love you too,” she breathes back before
her lips touch his again.

Someone clears their throat loudly. “Um,
we’re here,” Officer Garcia announces.

Reluctantly, she pulls away from Dylan’s
mouth. Her eyelids feel heavy as she tries to look out the window
and realizes they’re at the hospital.

Looking back up at Dylan, she watches as a
huge smile breaks out on his face. He looks so happy it makes her
grin back just as big. He sneaks in a quick kiss on her lips before
he opens the door and helps her out, entwining their fingers
together.

“Thanks for the ride,” Dylan says to Officer
Garcia.

“Sure. Not a problem.”

“I need a few minutes alone with Myra so…”
Dylan hedges.

“Oh. Okay. I’ll just go on in. I’ll be in
the waiting area,” he says with a nod before he walks towards the
entrance of the hospital.

Dylan tugs her back into his arms. “I know
we still have a lot of things to talk about and shit, but I need to
warn you about something.”

Myra frowns. “Okay…”

“I might blow the fuck up when I find out
everything that happened at your house tonight so I’m just giving
you a heads up.”

Myra nods and grins, unable to force herself
to be serious. Dylan grins back.