Chapter 40

The world stood still. No voices, no movements, just the shock that was heavily slammed onto our brains.  My eyes were dazed and dead like the body I stared at yards away.  It broke my heart in a whole new way.

The innocent and now deceased man was splayed on his back.  Even yards away, the sun demanded we see the damage.  Blood flowed from his still chest and slowly expanded over his uniform to the cement.  His limbs carelessly laid around his lifeless body. The body of a man who had feelings, family, memories, and a lot of life left. Life that was taken away from him for absolutely no reason.

Absolutely no fucking reason.

"What the fuck was that?!" Luke shouted through his uneven and panicked voice.  The heartbroken tone he forced through his mouth grew thick.  "WHAT THE FUCK?!" he screamed.

It finally snapped my eyes back to life.  His face was a broken mess of sadness, panic, and rage.  Teeth bared and clenched, Luke stormed up to Carter a few feet in front of me. Gripping his shirt, he whipped Carter's body towards him and slapped the gun out of his hand.  Distress lined Carter's dipped eyebrows and blue eyes. It disappeared the second Luke punched him across the face.

The blow wanted to send him stumbling back towards the car, but Luke's shaking grip on his shirt didn't allow it.  "What was that? Why? Why?!" he yelled and begged.  Luke used his weight and winding fist to nail him in the face harder.  "You son of a bitch! Why?!" he shakily shouted.

"I-I needed to! I fucking had to!" Carter shoulder back with as much panic and anger.

"You had to?!" my scratchy voice released.  I was shaking, hating what this piece of shit did.  "You did not! You did not need to do that!"  The gun that skidded a few feet away from me started to look nice in Carter's near future.  I mean Jesus Christ, why did this need to happen? I didn't!

Luke spit in Carter's face before roughly pushing him away.  Stepping backwards towards the middle of the road, Luke shut his eyes tightly, shaking his head.  "God, no," he whispered. His head and opening eyes tilted towards the officer.  I could hear Luke's hard breathing.

My heart taunted the back of my throat. I wanted to sink down into the cement and take the dead man's place.  I'm sure I did worse things in my life than that officer did.  Why couldn't it have been me?

"Did you not hear who he was looking for?" Carter shouted around at us after composing himself.  Rubbing the side of what would soon be a bruised cheek, his eyes were sharp and full of fire.  "This needed to happen!  What other option was there?"

The sadness and guilt in my mind already worked out the other options that wouldn't have resulted in this.  Marching up to him, I hissed into his swelling face.  "We could have held up the gun to him.  We could have floored it away. We could have even taken him.  Anything but kill him!"

"Imagine what the consequences would be if we left him alive!" he shouted.

"What consequences?! What would be the worst thing if he lived?" I demanded.

"We need to go," Jackson said, drawing my eyes to the man I forgot existed. Jaw clenching with tension caressing his body, he met our eyes.  "We need to go, right now before any other cars pass by," he said, swiftly moving to the driver's door. 

I could only stare as Jackson seated himself in the driver's seat and slammed the door closed.  Carter followed and moved to the front passenger seat, shaking his head with panic all over his face. As for Luke and I... how could we? How could we just get in the car and go?

Glancing over to Luke, his strained eyes moved between the dead officer, me, and the car.  "We can't just leave," he said, eyes pausing on Jackson through the open driver's window.

"We have to. We have to," he stressed.  "Get in the car."

How? How heartless do we have to force ourselves to be? I'd rather get arrested at this point.

"Get in the fucking car!" Jackson screamed harshly, pounding his fist against the closed door.  His eyes between us and the long road behind us.

The pain was all over Luke's face and in his shaky breath.  "I-I....  We can't!"

Jackson's words drilled the reality through my broken consciousness.  I managed to get my shaky legs to work and picked up the gun. Moving to Luke, I rested my other hand behind his shoulder. 

Guiding him to the car was a hard task, mentally and therefore physically.  My stomach wanted to cripple me when I opened the backdoor for Luke and I.  Then... we were moving. We drove away from someone's son, maybe someone's brother or father. 

For the two of us in the back, it shredded our insides.  I grabbed Luke's shaking hand and held it tight.  Even with all the bloodshed we caused or witnessed in the past, nothing like this happened before.  Nothing like watching an innocent man get killed.  Even when Carter explained his actions and reason, it didn't make us feel much better.

"He saw our faces," he said in front of where I was sitting close to Luke.  "If we kept him alive, all our work would have been for nothing.  Even if we successfully got away from him, we would still be done for."

"You would have been done," I said immediately.

"No, we all would have been screwed."  As he continued explaining, his voice was shaking with tension and panic.  "We don't know why I'm wanted.  The point is he was looking for me.  This is probably national news. I-If he lived, people would know where I was last seen. It would put every copper in range on our tracks.  Plus, if he lived, he would have reported that there are others with me.  Probably would have been able to identify every one of you too. So I am sorry I saved us. I'm sorry I kept every fucking one of us from being plastered across the news. Sorry I kept us under the radar so Reid won't be expecting us in Washington."

Though this new scar was incredibly deep and lasting, he had a point.  Maybe he did prevent those terrible outcomes from happening.  However, preventing those outcomes was not why he shot that officer. 

He shot that cop because he was panicked. Carter was scared – with every right to be.  We had no idea why there was a mass search for him.  We needed to find out.

***

Even though Luke and I were the ones most paralyzed with grief and guilt, all four of us were overwhelmed in panic and anticipation.  Thanks to a lack in signal throughout the whole remainder of the day, we couldn't look up anything on our phones regarding why Carter is a wanted man.  We would have to rely on TV news stations whenever we get the chance.

Until that happens, our asses weren't going to Washington yet.  We also couldn't stay in Idaho.  According to that officer, the states surrounding Montana had their police watching for cars that matched the one we were driving.

That's why for the remainder of the day, we drove south.  Our determination to leave the state without being pulled over was high. Our paranoia grew strong after two hours of driving too.  So after discreetly abandoning the car, Jackson stole another.  There was no time for me or Luke to feel bad over it either.  Not only were there worst things to feel guilty about, our paranoid was so high, we knew it was necessary. 

Sure enough, we didn't feel like we were sitting ducks once we got back on the road.  It was even more relieving once we passed into the desert-like Nevada landscape.  By the time we stopped for the night, it was 10:30 and dark.  The motel was the first we spotted along the lonely highway.  It was no surprise that our only rundown option had no internet and still no signal.  Why would it though? Why would we catch a break?  They at least had a few TV channels and it was better than nothing.

After we checked into a room, the four of us anxiously flipped through the channels to find the news.  We found a low-grade station that replayed the national news.  It was all we had.

"Well... what can you do?" I sighed, tossing the remote behind me from where I was sitting with crossed legs on the edge of the bed.  The lead anchorwoman was introducing an irrelevant story to us. 

"Just wait and hope," Luke said from where he was standing beside the bed to my right.

Carter was sitting beside me, leaning forward in fascination at the TV sitting on the dresser in front of us.  From how far his ass was off the bed, you might assume the anchorwoman put a spell on him.  He nervously rubbed his hands together.  It wasn't settling in the least; maybe it wouldn't be half bad if we didn't learn why Carter was wanted.  Who knows how he may react.

Jackson sealed my growing anticipation.  "I don't think we missed anything yet."  Tilting my head to the side, I caught his guarded eyes.  Fingers hooked through his jean belt loops, his back rested against the wall adjacent to the TV.  "It's only 11:03. It must have just started," he said, glancing back to the news.

We should have continued driving until we hit Mexico. Because after a few more minutes, the news suddenly became relevant.

The aging anchorwoman's blank blue eyes in the camera were steady as she spoke, unaware that the story she was introducing nearly killed us. "After terror and confusion plagued the small village of Dosslegrove, Mississippi, investigators continue gaining ground in their effort to uncovering the haunting facts behind these gruesome murders.  Yesterday, it was revealed that suspect Carter Forbes was last present in Singe, Montana, 1500 miles from the site of the murders.  Chuck Rilous is on the scene in Singe. What can you tell us, Chuck?"

While my wide eyes were pinned and my heart pounding, I heard the unlocking sound of jaws dropped from one of the men. From another came a gasp. From me, not a sound. We watched in absolute horror.

Cutting away from the woman, the screen now showed a man standing in a parking lot.  The same parking lot the officer had displayed on the paper he showed us. "Claudia, I'm standing in the parking lot of Swilly's convenience store where just days ago, surveillance footage captured the suspect seen with an unidentified man.  People here in Singe don't know what to think, but from the locals I've spoken to, they are all on edge."

The man continued explaining the chaos unfolding within the town as well as police efforts.  My mind instead trailed and attempted to wrap my head around what the woman revealed.  

This could not be happening; it was too cruel for all we've been through already. Yet, the sheer fear in my bones was the most real thing I could feel.  I knew it was nothing compared to Carter.  Glancing over to him, his shocked eyes were as wide as mine, face turning a sickly green.

How did people find those bodies? How? They were buried in a town that was basically nonexistent!  Within the vivid memory of getting ambushed, I can tell you not one damn car passed by!  So how in the world was it possible that someone found those bodies buried in the woods?! And why was Carter the sole suspect?  Why him and how did they identify him?  Jesus Christ, what did this mean?!

Thanks to how huge this story was, we managed to receive a few answers.  When the focus went back to the woman in the newsroom, she gave a vague backstory to ignorant viewers like ourselves before delving into newly discovered information.  It started with a big picture of Carter's face appearing on the screen next to hers. "It's been only two days since DNA specialists uncovered evidence of suspect Carter Forbes on the bodies.  Since then, police have continued making substantial progress in uncovering what really happened on the Dosslegrove country backroad that day." 

Holy shit, what? How?! Before any of us could crazily consume the information she offhandedly gave us, the anchorwoman introduced another reporter with new information.  Unlike the last reporter in the parking lot, this one was standing on the Mississippi road we were ambushed on.

Seeing the edge of the woods behind the man speaking to the camera nearly made my heart stop.  Crime scene tape was plastered all over.  Police and other individuals were scattered around as well. "As many of you at home can see, this lasting crime scene is as active as it was a week ago when the bodies were discovered.  Dosslegrove native woman Susan Perkins stumbled across the bodies lying in the woods just yards away—

Whoa, whoa! What? Bodies lying in the woods?  How?! They were buried! Carter buried them!  I wouldn't be surprised if I shit my pants at any second.

"Thanks to the DNA evidence found on the bodies, forensic specialists have aimed more attention at the actual discovery Susan made.  The most intriguing part of this case has been the condition the remains were found.  It's still unknown why the 17 bodies were discovered laid out and exhumed from where it appears they were first buried.  However, as of this morning, unknown DNA has been found around the loose ground where the bodies originally rested buried.  The DNA doesn't match the suspect or any of the men uncovered at the site.  Police therefore conclude that it's DNA from the person or persons who came across the bodies and dug them up to be found by someone else.  It's an interesting twist on an already gruesome mystery."

Ironically, what these confused reporters just gave us, resolved any mystery in our heads.  It removed the mystery and in its place, it planted horror.  It was bad enough that all those bodies were discovered, but the details of it all... fuck!  They found Carter's DNA on the bodies!  That's why he's wanted! And the worst part, the worst thing about this entire thing, was the fact that the bodies were 'mysteriously' dug up and left to be found by that Susan chick. Gee, I fucking wonder who did that!

Jesus, what did this mean? Was Reid maybe on our tail too then?  Staring at the screen, I just wanted to beg the reporters to give us something – some form of hope! Some peace or reassurance, but it didn't.  Their coverage on the Mississippi murders was done and the spotlight hovered into another story. 

The reporting words echoed through my brain to my core, causing more chills to run over me.  I almost wish we were as in the dark as the people investigating.  If we were still clueless, my heart wouldn't be sprinting in terror. If we were clueless, I wouldn't have to see the shock and panic slowly sink into the three men around me. 

While Jackson and Luke continued mindlessly staring at the screen, Carter lowered his head towards his lap and into his palms.

Swallowing the thick taste of fear back, I stared down at the bed.  "How did Reid's men find those bodies?" I whispered, mostly to myself, after a long stretch of silence. 

Reid's people somehow found their missing men.  They found their fellow members, dug them up, and left them there.  Could you rape our asses any worse than that? I mean fuck, if the FBI had our back and we contacted them, they could have easily cleaned up that mess.  Nope. Instead, Carter is a wanted mass murderer.  All because he was the one who buried those bodies that night. 

Shooting my strained eyes to him, his blue bruised face remained hidden in his hands.  His whole body was shaking, including his fingers that slowly slid up.  As they twined with his stringy hair, his pale tight face was now visible, eyes shut.

Despite his panic, there was determination in his voice.  "I'm not going to prison."  Opening his eyes with scrunched brows, his blue gaze was far away – and not in a good place.

Beyond Carter, Jackson noticeably tensed more. His eyes were alive, like active sniper scopes.  They burned into Carter and didn't leave. 

As for Luke, he finally spoke up. He clearly noted the growing chaos behind Carter's eyes.  "Why would you think you're going to prison? You're ahead of the game; you have a new identity."

Dropping his arms, Carter's disturbed gaze shot up above me to Luke.  "You think so copper?  You the one wanted across the country? Look at what they have!" he shouted, forcing a protruding vein to bulge out along his temple.  The blue skin under his eye from where Luke punched him seemed to grow darker.  "My face is strung across the fucking country! I'll be recognized anywhere!"

Turning and tilting my head up to Luke, he sternly shook his head.  "No, you won't.  Unless people are specifically looking for you when you are spotted, they won't recognize you."  Whether Luke believed his own words or not, I didn't know.

Carter refused to accept any reassurance. Standing up, his face reddened from its pale state. His arms were locked above his head again, hands gripping his hair much harder.  "I will not go to prison! I'll risk anything, face anything, I'll fucking die, but I will not be locked away! I will kill myself before I go to prison! I'll do it. I'm going to kill myself."

Though I jumped in along with Luke and tried to calm him down, it didn't work. He just kept ranting and allowing his panic to consume him.  His fear, his anger, his threats towards himself continued to mount. Then strangely, after several more minutes of repeating those same disturbing words and pacing the room, he calmed down – a little too quickly.  It was distressing, the way Carter just... stopped freaking out.  He just quietly sat back down on the bed, his shoulders slumped.  

What was even more disturbing... was how I watched Jackson almost equally as much.  Throughout Carter's freak-out, he stood off to the side where he could go unnoticed.  When the man's arms crossed, they stayed glued. It was as if his body and being were molded together.  As his attentive eyes followed Carter's every move, he didn't dare to even turn his head.

The pressure in the air was high, especially when silence plagued the room.  Luke and I attempted to get things on track and maybe distract Carter from the suicide talk now that he calmed down. He and I agreed there was nothing we could do about what happened, but that things should be okay. We could only move ahead to Washington; living under our fake IDs was our best bet.  And I really believed that too; I think he and I had to after today. We needed to have some hope.  Otherwise, we would crumble. 

But though we positively supported our plan and agreed we should be fine, it was clear Carter was set.  It's been at least an hour or more since the news shocked us.  All that time did was allow the vastness of his problem to sink into his stubborn mind.  His dazed eyes and tight lips showed that he felt absolutely doomed.  That no matter what, there was no way he could escape the police or prison.

With the suicidal words Carter spawned along with his doomed expression, my heart was already beating erratically.  Then with what Carter said next... it caused the hairs on the back of my neck to rise.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk. Get some air," he said blankly, standing up.

Sharing a knowing look with Luke... our worries were clearly on the same page.  My jaw tightened and I sat up straighter from where I was on the end of the bed.  "I think you better stay up here," I blurted out.

The crazy glint in Carter's eyes grew when he glanced down to me. "Why?"

"Because it's safer for us to stay together," Luke answered before I could, making Carter turn to him with his puffy bruised face. 

Both men standing before me, staring at each other, there was a long moment of silence.  Though blankness shrouded their faces, Carter knew why Luke didn't want him to go alone. 

"Right."  The knowing look in Carter's eyes showed an amusement. "Maybe I have to take a shit. Should we all go into the bathroom as a group?"

This was too much.  Carter's intentions probably weren't to get air or take a shit.  Then again though, would Carter really attempt to kill himself with us so close?  And right this moment? I doubted it and so did Luke.

"You aren't going for a walk," Luke said sharply after a moment of thinking.  "If you actually have to go to the bathroom, go."

Carter snorted disgustingly and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door.  Him gone, I swiftly looked between a tense Jackson and Luke.  "If he's not out in two minutes, I would break down the door," I said.

"Let him do it," Jackson mumbled. 

That did it with this asshole.  Standing up, I put all my focus on Jackson, walking up to him by the wall.  Narrowing my eyes on his blank ones, I hissed, "You can remove the massive pole that's obviously lodged up your ass and come back to Earth now.  What's the deal? And let him do it?  What's wrong with you?"  Some things sent Jackson into major paranoia or anger, but nothing like this.  The dude still looked like a statue.

When he answered, he forced his stiff shoulders to lower then his arms.  "From the beginning, I told you he would be trouble.  If he wants to kill himself, let him. He's just going to drag us down now.  Hell, why don't we just kill him?"

The guilt, panic, and fear pulsed through my body angrily.  Even with the annoying and high amount of tension in his body, he said it so nonchalantly.  Talked of death and killing... oh so fucking nonchalantly! I was finished with it! I forced my hand to his shoulder and roughly pushed it back against the wall.  "I'm fucking done with all the death! I'm fucking done! We are not going to let him do it, we aren't going to fucking kill him!" I growled under my breath, my lips easily twisting into a scowl. 

I couldn't stand everything I've witnessed. There were parts of myself that have numbed, that I've felt distanced from because of everything that's happened.  It hurt the most to know my brain grew accustom to the violence and life changing events. It screwed up.  With all that's been bottled up in me, it took its toll on me.  I did not need any more. No more. 

Even though I could feel the hate I held for Carter in my bones for what he did to that officer, it didn't matter.  I didn't want any more blood.  Luke and I would eventually lose our sanity if this shit continues.  And for this bitch to say it like it's no big deal... it infuriated me.

"We don't even know if he actually would go through with killing himself," Luke said disgustingly.  "I'll do whatever it takes to make sure he doesn't.  We can't handle any more blood.  And since you are so heartless, here is a logical reason we need Carter too: he still has information about the main headquarters that could help us."

"It's still a risk," Jackson said, glancing between us.  "We can't afford to watch him and treat him like a puppy.  I bet he's trying right this second because we let him out of our sight."

Thankfully, Carter didn't attempt anything in the bathroom. A few moments later, he came out with a distant look in his eyes.  Though I was entirely with Luke, Jackson had a point, even if I hated it.  Unless we accompany him everywhere, watch his every move, make notes on his shit taking techniques... I had a feeling Carter would pull through and end his life. 

***

The noon sun stood alone in the flat blue sky, staring down at the desert sea surrounding us.  The sandy flat fields expanding in all directions from this lonely road only made everything brighter.  It was also scorching hot, allowing the rolled down windows to give us relief.  All except for Jackson; he was the opposite of relieved. 

Observing him from the back seat was unnerving.  Throughout the hours spent driving north, Jackson's body never took a break from the tensed state it was in.  He was silent the whole three hours we've been driving.  I couldn't see his face, but I could picture it stubbornly holding a blankness, guarding whatever he was internally stressing and freaking out about. 

Interestingly enough, Carter in contrast was... neutral.  Sitting next to him in the back seat, it was hard not to watch him.  While his relaxed eyes stared out the window, his wrists were handcuffed together in his lap.  Obviously, this made Carter anything but his peachy pervy self.  Unlike Jackson though, from his quiet and blank nature, he didn't balance an ounce of stress on his shoulders.  Knowing him, I suppose there was no reason for him to be stressed.  After all, the man clearly proved to us he made up his mind. 

All morning, I wondered what was circulating in his head. I've never been swallowed in absolute certainty about suicide.  I had to assume he was brainstorming ideas of how to succeed in his plan next time.  Then again, Carter's mind was clearly a complex space.  Every once in a while, his calm and distant expression showed amusement with a crazed or disturbed glint in his eyes.  Maybe that disgust or humor was aimed at himself and his failed attempt.

Last night, we all stayed in one room.  While I had one bed, Carter had the other.  It worked out considering the other two men didn't anticipate getting much sleep anyway.  Even though both made blanketed beds on the floor, I'm guessing Jackson could hardly shut his eyes; the guy was wound up unlike I've ever seen him before.  Hell, it was hard enough for me to fade into oblivion with all the things racing in my head.  After I eventually did though, I would wake to learn that a lot happened in the middle of the night. 

According to Luke's account, he explained he was too paranoid and worried to sleep.  Though he laid in his make-shift bed, Luke was too fearful that Carter would make some kind of move.  And sure enough, he did. 

Around 3:30, Luke heard the sound of someone get up and leave the room.  When he realized it was Carter, he followed after him, keeping a distance.  By the time he spied Carter at the car, reaching under the seat where we had a gun stashed, that's all it took.  Luke said he tackled him, found his handcuffs in the car to lock his wrists, and dragged him back up to the room before anyone saw.   

This morning as Luke was telling me this, his eyes were far away in sadness.  "He just kept repeating that he needed to end it. He said he couldn't risk the chance of staying alive if it means prison.  Albany, he wanted it so bad... I almost uncuffed him and let him. We need him and can't let him do it, but he truly wanted it."

Those words Luke said hours ago added to the sympathy I had towards Carter.  However, looking at Carter, I didn't feel compelled to uncuff him.  Because though he was restrained from acting on his suicidal wishes, Carter didn't feel trapped.  He had confidence that he eventually would get the chance to do it. What we didn't realize... was that he already was formulating a new plan.

Carter spoke up in a mumble over the loud air slapping with the windows.  "When will we be crossing into Idaho?"

"I think we still have a while," Jackson said. 

My heart skipped a beat.  Him asking that question showed his paranoia was still active.  I think all ours was.  Even though we had a new car, we were heading back through a state that was on the lookout for the infamous Carter Forbes. 

"Actually, we have about five more miles," Luke answered from the driver's seat in front of me, cancelling out Jackson's incorrect and quick answer.

Silence followed the tense air between us once again.  That's when I slyly snuck another nervous glance to Carter. And it instantly made my chest race rapidly and stomach twist.

Carter's head was tilted towards me already when I glanced to him, putting all his attention on me.  Facing me full on, I could see the bruised skin under his right eye was puffier than yesterday. That wasn't what held my full focus.

His eyes caught mine and he just... stared at me – for a very long moment.  It sent chills over my body, pulled me into a deep and surreal state.  The man wasn't amused; he wasn't calm or blank, wasn't showing anything I've witnessed yet today.  It was a rare moment.  He was staring at me in deep thought, in deep significance packed behind a conflicting brain.  Those blue eyes embedded into mine with a seriousness I never saw from him before.

There was not a quip or remark I could make, not even a chance for me to wonder what was happening in his head.  I was too shocked by that stare to think, to do anything, and I just stared back without knowing what the hell that powerful look meant.

When he finally looked away, something changed. Something big. I could see it in Carter's transforming face.  A small smirk crossed his tight face.

"Pull over," Carter demanded.

"Why?" Luke firmly asked.

"I don't feel good, just pull over."

After a minute of thought, a sigh came from the driver's seat.  Noticing Luke slow down and pull towards the shoulder, Jackson sat straight up.  Despite his wide eyes shooting daggers to Luke for clearly not wanting to pull over, he didn't say anything.

The loud contact made from the tires and the sandy dirt shoulder gradually quieted as the car came to a stop.  Carter's handcuffed wrists already hovered next to the door handle.  Gripping it with his hand and opening the door, he caught my eyes before he got out and shut the door. And that look... there was a spark in his eyes.  One that was excited and one I didn't trust.

"We shouldn't have stopped," my words rushed out.

They realized this as Carter rounded the car and crossed to the other side of the street. 

He walked out into the flat and cracked dirt land.  Even though his back was to us, his slow pace and proud high head validated he wasn't sick.  He was up to something.

Our necks were strained to the left, watching him through the open windows.  "What is he doing?" Luke whispered.

We didn't know, but it put us on edge and made us need to know.  What could he do? The dude was handcuffed, unarmed, and for how proud his careless stroll was, we knew he wasn't going to run away. 

It made Luke and I instantly get out of the car.  I rounded it to stand beside Luke on the road, facing the strange walking man.  Carter's feet crunched against the sandy dirt, stones, and splotches of yellow foliage until he stopped maybe a dozen yards away.  He was still close enough for us to see when he turned on his heels, faced us, and stood still.

There was a smug smile on his face.  "I'm finished!  I don't need to kill myself to escape prison; I don't need to kill myself to die!" he yelled, the smugness loud in his voice, allowing his smirk to grow.  "Time to keep your promise, Higgins! Get your ass out here!"

What the hell was he talking about?  Maybe he's gone nuts.  That crazed glint in his eyes glowed and his hanging handcuffed hands were clenched with anticipation.  There was rushing and scattering noises from behind us in the car, but we couldn't peal our eyes from Carter.  What was he talking about? What did he want from me? Why did I need to go to him?

"For what? Why?" I asked him with a raised voice. "What do—"

He bowed and flailed in excitement, eyes grinning with chaos to me.   "Ha!  Oh, sweetheart. I'm not talking to you....  I'm talking to Jackson!  Come on, Jackson Higgins, keep your fucking promise!" he lowly growled with a grin. 

Frantic stomps reached my ears while the source entered my side vision and drew our attention.  Jackson rushed around the car, gripping a gun, body flooding with furry.  Intent burned in his hatred-filled eyes that were pinned on Carter.  Then his gun was pinned on the same man as his eyes. 

Jackson fired the weapon just as Luke turned and rammed into his side.

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There is it! After all the theories and ideas about Jackson... there is a big part of it!

It's been a moment I've been waiting literally YEARS to write and share with you guys. I've always wondered about how to do these scenes and specifically the last one. So please tell me what you think, what your thoughts are now, and what they were before. I would very very much love to hear what you think of where this story is going so please comment. It would mean a lot to me! Thank you my loyal readers for keeping up with the story nd sticking with it. I hope you liked this chapter!