He didn’t answer, but she got the distinct sense that while he acknowledged what she was saying, he wasn’t ready to accept it. That he’d somehow convinced himself if he didn’t feel his way through the loss of his father, he could simply hold it at bay.
Seem familiar, Forte?
Since the internal shot of honesty hit a bit too close to home, Sera refocused on Gavin. She did owe him the same honesty about her past, but now wasn’t the time.
“Are you ready to tell me the rest?”
“It’s not especially surprising. A disgruntled criminal he prosecuted found a way to strike back. His record was already much too long by the time my father came into his life, but somehow my dad became the scapegoat for all his anger and discontent with life. He’d gotten it in his head that someone had to pay and was already orchestrating things from inside prison. Two weeks after he got out on parole for good behavior, he shot my father coming out of his office in Midtown.”
It was a risk lawyers lived with—the justice system was nothing if not public—but the actual number of lawyers who faced threats to their lives wasn’t nearly as high as TV and movies made it out to be.
But it did happen.
And it was a risk.
One Gavin’s father had paid a terrible price for.
“I’m sorry.”
He turned to look at her, his dark brown eyes still grief-filled, even if some of it had dimmed slightly with the telling. “Thank you, but it was a long time ago.”
“I’m still sorry. For your father. And I’m also sorry about earlier. About rushing out of the bar. I wish I could change that.” She pulled away from him, suddenly unable to touch him as she faced the reality of what her impulse and anger had wrought.
All that upset and anger and weird reaction she’d had to the other couples had sent her out into the street, desperate to go home and be alone. Wrapped in her cocoon of isolation where she felt safe and warm and in control.
“I brought this on. By leaving the bar. By putting us outside. By putting Darius in the crosshairs.”
“You didn’t do this.”
“How can you say that?” And suddenly, the whole night crashed in on her, the terrible truth of it all. “And how could I have blocked it out up to now? I was the reason we were outside.”
“You didn’t aim the gun, Sera. Nor did you pull the trigger.” He reached for her, but she’d already stood, moving away from him and whatever comfort he thought to offer.
“I let my emotions carry me outside like a child. How can you say I’m not responsible?”
“Because you didn’t pull the trigger!”
The outburst was a surprise, Gavin’s words sort of echoing through the sudden quiet of the room.
And in its wake, she simply crumpled. “That wonderful man is gone.”
Gavin was by her side immediately, pulling her into his arms and holding her upright. His voice was soft in her ear, and any lingering harshness in his tone vanished as he crooned softly to her. “I know he is. I know.”
“I—”
“Shhh. You didn’t. This wasn’t you, Sera. You didn’t do this.”
The fierce urgency in his tone and the deep conviction that she wasn’t at fault echoed through her mind, a discordant counterpart to what she already thought.
Nay, what she already knew.
They were targeted this evening. She didn’t know how or why, but she and Gavin were the target of the shooter. The way she’d seen that flash under the lights. And the fact that there was such a focus on the two of them as they stood there, having their argument.
Yet why had the shooter missed, hitting Darius instead? He wasn’t all that far from them, but he wasn’t so close that she believed the shooter had simply had bad aim.
Which circled her back around to the why of it all.
And how much could have been avoided if she’d just remained inside.
The text had come late confirming the early morning meeting at the 86th, but Gavin had expected it. He’d already spoken to Wyatt and Arlo the night before and had been anxious to get in and get going with whatever information Arlo managed to uncover on scene outside the bar.
What he didn’t expect was the full turnout at the 86th.
Officers spilled out of every doorway and filled the bullpen near to bursting as everyone gathered around to hear Captain Reed speak, updating the precinct on the events at Case Closed. After he spoke, Arlo was on deck to present his findings.
“Everyone really turned out for Jayden,” Kerrigan whispered where she stood beside Gavin. “He’d be so touched.”
“Somehow I think he’d prefer there wasn’t any reason for us all to be assembled in the first place.”
Kerrigan’s mouth dropped in shock as she turned to him. “Well, yes, of course.”
It was all so close, and his emotions were all jumbled up, simmering at the surface and just waiting to erupt. Or find a convenient victim.
“Kerr—” He broke off, running his hand through his short-cropped hair and tugging. “I’m sorry. I know what you meant. Honest, I do know. I just—Truly.” He hung his head. “I’m so, so sorry.”
It was a testament to her goodness and the friendship they’d forged over long shifts together that she was quick to forgive. “I get it. I bit Arlo’s head off this morning, and he basically hasn’t slept in thirty-six hours.” She reached for his hand, squeezing tight. “So yeah, I know.”
“It sucks, Kerr. It sucks so bad.” He could only nod as she laid her head on his shoulder just as Captain Reed got up to speak.
