Shane

Markayla hated to say goodbye to Shane. She was bored out of her mind and downright depressed. She mourned for Jack and hated being held prisoner by the very bastard who put him in the ground and her in the hospital. And if that wasn’t bad enough, now she had to give up her life as she’d known it. She couldn’t tell any friends or neighbors where she was, and therefore, they could not visit her. The longer Angeles remained at large, the more likely she was to be given a new identity since it wasn’t likely that she’d remain in a safe house for the rest of her life. Shane was the only reprieve from the whole nightmare. Yeah, he still had that “dangerously” mysterious air about him, but the more time she spent with him, the more comfortable she found herself to be. Markayla was in a tug-of-war with herself. She wanted her old life back, yet was intrigued with the idea of staying with Shane, if that ever really did happen. What would it be like? she wondered. But then maybe Angeles would be caught and she’d never find out. Better the killer is caught, thus sparing any more potential victims, than to find out what it would have been like to stay with the handsome FBI agent. He’d looked just as hot in his business suit and glasses as he did when he was dressed casually and without the specs, white teeth matching his starch white shirt. That night, he’d turned to leave, she’d smiled in an assuring manner at him, but inside her mind was screaming for him not to leave her. And he didn’t. At least not right away. He had just turned to leave when they heard the sound of a loud pop. A woman’s screams could be heard a few seconds later. Markayla’s heart hammered in her chest. Shane drew his weapon, which had been concealed in his waistband and slid up to the doorway. He peered out quickly, straight sandy hair jerking around his face with his movements. More gunfire, shouts and screams could be heard. Shane shouted something and then dashed to her bedside. “Come on,” he said, quickly lowering her guardrail with his free hand. “I’m scared,” she whimpered like a small child. “It’s ok. I’ve got you.” Shane helped Markayla out of bed while keeping an eye on the door. Once on her feet, she was too terrified to care about the pain in her arm or the fact that her hospital gown was partially open in the back. “Get in the bathroom and shut the door,” Shane quickly ordered. Markayla did as she was told as quickly as she could, though she wasn’t sure she felt any safer shut inside the tiny room. Instead, she felt as if she were walking through a nightmare blindfolded. She could hear things but had no idea what they meant other than that something very bad and very scary was unfolding beyond the door. She tried to make out who was shouting what, but everything she heard simply ran together, echoing and resonating as one big sound. She assumed it was Angeles doing the shooting, having somehow found out her whereabouts, but was he dead? Was Shane dead? The flurry of panicked voices continued and then footfalls could be heard approaching her door. Her pulse reached epic levels. She watched in horror as the smooth, round silver handle turned. The door flung open, and while crouched in the corner between the wall and the toilet, she screamed so loud it hurt her own ears. “It’s ok, it’s ok!” said Shane, both hands raised in a calming manner. “He’s gone. Angeles is dead.” Markayla’s screams turned to sobs as she scurried toward Shane. He pulled her to her feet as gently as he could and held onto Markayla, slowly guiding her out of the bathroom. Markayla’s arms slipped around his waist and she held onto him fiercely as she continued to sob. He felt strong and she knew she was safe with him. “It’s ok, babe,” said Shane, kissing the top of her head. A nurse came running in. “Is everything ok?” “Yeah, yeah,” said Shane. “It’s under control. She’s just really shaken up.” A few minutes later, she was back in bed. They’d quickly checked her wound, changed the dressing, and sedated her so she could relax enough to eventually get some sleep. The nurse darkened the room and told Shane he shouldn’t stay too long on her way out. “Shane?” Markayla said drowsily. “Yeah, hun?” “Did he kill anyone else?” “We don’t know yet, but he hasn’t killed anyone on this floor.” “What about the officer outside the door?” “She was using the bathroom.” Markayla thought a moment. “So you saved my life?” Shane gave a faint nod and tight-lipped smile. “Let’s just say you won’t need to worry about him or safe houses or trials or anything of that nature anymore.” A tear slipped down Markayla’s cheek. “Thank you, Shane.” He squeezed her hand and left her with a whole new hand of cards to figure out how to play. She was grateful that Shane had just saved her life, but now what? She no longer needed to hide anywhere. She fell asleep that night, assuming she’d never see Shane again and that she would soon return to New Mexico.