Bullet

Chapter 22

It took a few moments for Deacon to realize that someone was calling her name, her eyes never left the ambulance which began to drive away, the sirens blaring. She was thrown out of her stupor when hands touched her shoulders. Agent Robertson pulled her aside so that she her eyes connected with hers, 'are you okay?' you've just seen someone get shot and you have their blood on your hands, you're not fucking okay! She nodded slowly, 'yeah... I think I am', that was all he wanted to hear. They stood like that for a few moments, trying to catch their breath, 'do you believe me now?' Her voice was quiet. I do, I believe you.

To Deacon, Margot Finaly was a small lady, though her features were quite soft, she could fool anyone. The lady examined Deacon for a few moments before sighing, 'one of my Agents has been shot because of you', Deacon opened her mouth to protest, but the lady put her hand up to stop her, 'of course, you couldn't do anything about it. So tell me, Agent Robertson said that you had a bit of a past with this mystery attacker'. Deacon nodded, 'I'm pretty sure he's stalking me, he was the shooter'.

'You're certain?'

She actually wasn't, but who else would shoot at her? Margot could tell she had caught the young woman, 'we're still investigating the shootout and we know there is someone out there, but they got away'. Her heart began to race when the lady continued talking, 'but they left a couple of things behind which we now have in possession. Also we're checking out CCTV for the footage and hopefully we'll catch what time he positioned himself, then we'll most likely be able to figure out if he was targeting you, or someone from my team'. 
Deacon looked down at her hands, still red with blood, she had tried her best to clean it all off, 'do I at least have protection?' The lady frowned, she was thinking about it, please, I just need someone who knows what they're doing, 'I'll see what I can do', she said before dismissing the both of them.

'I'll see if I can get one of my officers to drive you back'.

She heard Agent Robertson say, why don't you take me home? She was more comfortable with him, he seemed to understand her. But she knew she was pushing herself, suddenly he pulled out a small notepad, 'here, this is my number, apart from calling the station, you can also call me if you're in trouble, okay?' She took the paper from him, her heart fluttered, it hadn't done that before, it almost felt nice, 'thank you' she whispered.

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Finally back at the cabin, he collapsed on the sofa, his knees hurt from kneeling on the horrible shrubbery. Frustration still ate at him, I had the shot and I blew it, he rubbed his eyes, today had been long, he hadn't been concentrating, getting overexcited when he had her in his sight. She had now reported to the police and he blew his cover, they knew he was out there and she was quite possibly the potential target.

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The first thing Deacon had done was call her brother, he answered after a couple of rings, his groggy voice was on the other end of the line, 'Greg its me, Deacon?' He seemed to shake himself awake, 'Dee? Hey, what's wrong? You sound off'.

'Can you come over?'

A beat... 'Yeah, sure I'll be over in a bit... Are you okay?' She burst out crying, 'no, I'm not, I need you here, please!' He tried to soothe her down, 'alright, alright, hang in there Dee, I'm on my way'.

When Greg arrived, he quickly bundled her up in a hug, 'what happened?' He pulled back a little so he could look at her, concern etched his face. She told him everything. His eyes widened in shock, 'you were at a bloody shooting? What the hell were you even doing at the police department?'

'I was receiving photos of myself from some unknown sender, they know where I go, where I have lunch or coffee, I'm being stalked! I went to the police department to report it!'

He shook his head, 'was anyone killed?' She shook her head, 'no, but an Agent of theirs was shot pretty badly, I don't know if he made it'. He hugged her again, 'oh Dee, I'm sorry you had to deal with that'. He let go of her, his eyes flickered down to her hands, 'Jesus!' She realized she still had blood caked all over them, 'are you hurt!?' he grabbed her wrist, 'no! God no! It was from one of the Agents, the one that got shot! I tried to stop the bleeding!'

'Hold on, we need to clean that off right now'.

He pulled her to the sing, grabbing the soap and started to help her. Deacon noticed that his hands were injured, his fingernails were dark, 'you okay there?' She asked, 'what happened to your hands? Were you digging for something or?' he looked down at his own, his eyes widening for a moment before lather more soap, 'I tripped over, I guess the injury's a lot worse than I thought'. She rolled her eyes, 'you worry about me too much, you need to look after yourself you know', she laughed, 'no way, I can get by, but I want to look after you, 'you're all I have, I know dad's still around, but you were there for me more than he ever was'. She smiled, taking the soap from his hands, 'I can order takeaway if you want', she laughed, 'you don't have to stay for that long you know'.

'Nonsense, if I were you, I'd have everyone over to keep me company'.

He was right, she had gone through something traumatic and she did want someone here, thought she much rather preferred Robertson. 

She smiled at him, 'order away'.