Kiera’s words, “You’re scaring me, Potter!” kept going around and around in my mind. Her voice had been scared and confused, and I hated the sound of it. Not just that, it was her eyes. They usually looked like a cornfield someone had set a torch to, gold and bright, almost ablaze – but as she had looked at me and said, “You’re scaring me, Potter!” her eyes seemed darker somehow, as if they had lost their fire. There had been a tremor to her voice and that bothered me too. I didn’t want her to be scared of me because she had no reason to be. She bugged the hell out of me most of the time with her little-miss-know-it-all attitude, but she was smart and I couldn’t deny that. But, I guess in a perverse kind of way, I liked that about her. She didn’t just have the sweetest cheeks I’d ever seen, she had brains too. There was a spark in Kiera, and that spark had ignited something inside me.
I’d never been great at expressing my feelings and writing fancy poetry – to be honest I was always thought that kind of stuff was bullshit. I mean if you love someone, you just love them, does it need to get anymore complex than that? I don’t think so. I’d never been into all that romancing stuff. A girl either likes you or she doesn’t, jeez, I’d known guys who had spent a fortune on wining and dining and still never scored a home run! The biggest bunch of flowers, the brightest diamond, and all the fanciest poetry in the world ain’t gonna hide the fact that you’re butt-ugly with the personality of an amoeba.
I’d told Kiera how I’d felt about her and I hadn’t had to use any fancy words, I just told her how it was. I don’t know if it’s what she’d been expecting, I suppose other guys might have declared their undying love to her in another way – a more romantic way – but the Bruno Mars song was a stroke of genius on my behalf. I still think ‘I’m Your Man’ by Wham would have been better, or even ‘The Edge of Heaven’, but I guess it wasn’t meant to be. Perhaps another time. But was there ever going to be another time for us – for me and Kiera?
I feared the odds were stacked against me. Not only was I going to rescue Luke and bring him back to her, I still didn’t know exactly how Kiera felt for him. With the Brad Pitt of the team returning, would I stand a chance? Did Kiera feel for me the same way as I felt for her? I got a sick feeling in my gut when I wondered if I wasn’t some emotional prop for her while Lukey-boy had been off the scene. Then I could hear Kiera’s voice again, “You’re scaring me, Potter!” and I pushed it away.
I must be going on some emotional shootout; either that or I’d completely lost the fucking plot! Why was I putting my life at risk to save the person I feared Kiera was truly in love with? And had I gone too far by killing Eloisa in front of her?
“You’re scaring me, Potter!”
And I had scared her. I could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice. But I couldn’t go back and explain; I had to keep moving forward through the driving wind and freezing snow to rescue Luke. Why? Because he was my friend, just like Murphy had been. We had a history together. We’d shared a lot. Luke had been like a brother and Murphy like a father to me. Both of them had literally taken me beneath their wings. So, if by rescuing Luke and killing Eloisa in front of Kiera I ended up losing her, then that would be something I would have to live with, because I had reasons for doing both.
I couldn’t turn my back on Luke and I couldn’t let Murphy’s death go without revenge. We had been a team, and I could remember way back when…
…the red traffic signal ahead glowed an angry red. The line of traffic in front began to slow, but Murphy sped up.
“Lights!” Murphy snapped, although it sounded more like “mights!” as he sucked on the end of his pipe.
I took the blue emergency light from the dashboard, and winding down the window, I lent out and stuck it to the roof. Flicking a switch, the light came on, lighting up the night in strobes of fluorescent blue.
“Do you want the sirens? Go on, Sarge, we’ve got to have sirens!” I smiled and stuck a cigarette in the corner of my mouth.
“Of course I want the bloody sirens!” Murphy barked.
Grinning from ear to ear, I hit the switch and then lit my cigarette. The whoop-whoop! sound of the sirens made my heart race.
The traffic ahead began to peel away and head for the curb as they cleared a path for us. Murphy lurched our unmarked cruiser left then right and pressed his boot hard against the accelerator. We sped through a STOP sign in the road junction and nearly collided with another car that snaked across our path. Murphy slammed on the brakes and I shot forward, smashing my face into the windscreen.
“Christ almighty!” I yelled as I rocked back into my seat and snatched the now-crumpled cigarette from my mouth.
Rolling down the window, I roared at the driver of the other vehicle, “What’s the matter with you!”
The driver sat in his car and glared at me.
“Have you got shit in your eyes, or what?” I hollered at him again.
“I was driving here!” the driver shouted back.
“And can’t you see we’re the police here? Didn’t you see the big flashing thing on top of the car?” I roared. “Look where you’re going next time, Mr. Fucking Magoo!”