Broken Pasts Part 10

"I ... " I think he was trying to prepare me, so I wouldn't panic. Instead, his behavior was having the opposite effect, convincing me that the worst was about to happen. My mind started spinning completely unbelievable and utterly ridiculous stories. He got custody of Rhea somehow or He killed my mother and photographed it or He's summoned demons from h.e.l.l to come and take me away. That's how bad it was. "Let me see," I whispered as Nathaniel released me with a ma.s.sive sigh and pushed the papers across the desk. No, wait, not papers, photographs. Nice, big, glossy 8 x 10's. Dozens of them. Of me and Rhea. Sleeping.

I stood up suddenly and sent my chair flying against the gla.s.s, wheels spinning as it toppled over in my frenzy.

"No," I said because I didn't know what else to say. "No, those are staged. They're not real."

Nathaniel watched me tensely, and I could tell he was trying to decide between bodyguard and ... that 'b' word, if he even was one. We still hadn't figured that out. At that point in time, I couldn't have cared less. Bodyguard won out.

"Theresa, they very well could be. I need you to calm down and take a look at them with me. Maybe they're from before, when you were married?"

"No," I whispered as tears of rage sprung to my eyes and I felt adrenaline coursing through my blood like fire. If Gary had been within range in that moment, I would've strangled him to death. "They're not. The blankets ... when I moved out, I didn't take them with me. I bought new comforter sets." I pointed at the photos. "Those are them." I swallowed hard and forced myself to take one of the photos between my fingers. I couldn't bear to look at the ones of Rhea, so I stared at my sleeping face. There I was at my most vulnerable and he was lording over me, taking photos like he didn't have a care in the world. He could've hurt me, raped me, killed me. And Rhea ... I closed my eyes and held back a howl of rage. It wouldn't do me any good, not yet.

Nathaniel checked the envelope and then thumbed through the pictures again. That's all there was, no note, just the disgusting photographs in all of their horrendous glory.

"This was postmarked on Thursday," he said as he examined the stamps. "So he sent them the day after I showed up, but he must've taken them sooner."

"Why?" I asked as I picked up the pictures and shook them. Honestly, I wanted to tear them apart, turn them into confetti, but I couldn't, I had to keep them if only to nail the f.u.c.ker. "Why take them and just keep them? Why send them now? I don't understand." Nathaniel examined the pictures with a practiced eye. The most f.u.c.ked up part about all of this was that he didn't seem entirely surprised by it, like he'd seen this kind of thing before. I didn't ask, didn't want to know. It was hard enough trying to deal with my own problems.

"Stalkers crave power. That's what this is about. He's showing you that he can come and go as he pleases, that he could hurt you if he wanted. My guess is that he feels threatened by me. A lot of stalkers have a hard time watching their exes move on to someone else. It's often a trigger for escalated behavior."

"Nathaniel," I said, eyes wide, hands shaking. I didn't know what else to say, what else to do. "Help me." In an instant, the flip was switched and he was there, sweeping me into his arms, holding me against his chest and pressing his lips to the forehead.

"Theresa McMaster, you have nothing to worry about. I won't leave you, not until this is over, not unless you want me to."

"But how," I said, trying to keep my voice from sounding frantic. "You said the law's a joke. Don't we just add this c.r.a.p to the pile and move on, let him get away with it?"

"Not this time," Nathaniel told me with a slight smile in his voice. "These pictures are proof of breaking and entering, a crime that's a bit more black and white than stalking. If we take these down to the police station with our report, they'll be able to get you an order of protection and hopefully a search warrant for Gary's house."

"Thank G.o.d," I whispered, thinking that the horrors of Gary Harper had just hit their peak, that this was the tip of the iceberg and it was all downhill from here.

It was a nice thought anyway.

CHAPTER 20.

Nathaniel and I stopped by my house, but I didn't go in. I couldn't. I needed a little more time to adjust to the idea that a psychopath had been standing over me while I slept for G.o.d only knows how many days, watching me while I was helpless to stop him, waiting there like a predator stalking prey. I had this horrible feeling in my gut that I had been days away from death. If I hadn't called PPSD, would I be lying in a puddle of blood on my bathroom floor like the late Mrs. Sutherland? It was a very real possibility.

When Nathaniel returned with the file, I took it in my hands, glad that I was in the front seat next to his warmth, his strength, his certainty because I just felt cold and numb and empty. Until this report was filed and the police were on Gary's tail, I wouldn't be able to relax.

"You ... " I didn't know how to put my thoughts into words. "You saved my life," I said finally as I looked over at Nathaniel, at his chocolate hair and warm eyes, his perfect lips, the hard swell of muscle beneath his suit. "It was obviously a lot worse than I thought. He just, he didn't show it." I put my hand over my belly and tried not to think about all of the alternative possibilities. I was living in a world where we had definitive proof against Gary, where Nathaniel had connections at the station. It was going to be okay, all of it. I was going to live and I was going to go to dinner with Nathaniel as planned. Rhea was safe with Glen, and Gary would soon be trapped behind bars.

Nathaniel didn't speak for awhile, but when he did, his voice gave me goose b.u.mps.

"If you had died, I think my last chance at happiness might've died along with you."

"Don't say that," I told him, feeling overly emotional and desperate for something solid, warm, something with emerald green eyes and a wicked-dirty smile. It wasn't a man-woman thing. I didn't want Nathaniel to grab me by the hair and drag me back to his cave. It's just ... I wanted a partner, someone that I could count on, someone to take half of life's worries on their shoulders so I could strand straight and tall. Nathaniel fit the bill perfectly. I wasn't about to pick out wedding dresses or anything, I was way past that fairy tale c.r.a.p, but I did want to give this a shot, a real shot. I wanted to date Nathaniel Sutherland.

I looked over at him as we pulled into the police station, met his eyes and took a deep breathe.

"Date me?" I said even though the sound of it made me cringe. I wasn't sixteen, I was thirty-two. Still, the princ.i.p.al was the same. Try it out, see if it worked. That was the way the world worked. At least this time, I had a feeling in my chest that Nathaniel Sutherland was a sure thing. I may have picked Glen with logic and Gary with loneliness, but I was picking Nathaniel with my heart. Maybe I didn't love him yet, but I could and that was all that mattered.

"That's the plan," he told me as he leaned over and kissed away my fears with the heat of his lips. "That's been the plan from the first moment I laid eyes on you."

We filed the police report and I was happy to see my case change hands rather quickly. Instead of disappearing into a desk, it made its way all the way up the ranks and I left that old brick building with a promise that before the sun set, Gary Harper's apartment would be searched and he'd be apprehended.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," I told Nathaniel as we got out at my house and paused on the driveway. "Now I know why you got into this business. You save peoples' lives. You're an underground saint, Mr. Sutherland."

"You're going to give me a swollen head," he said with a wink. "Don't get my ego all riled up like that."

"Maybe I'd like to get your ego riled up?" I told him as I glanced over at my house and tried to pretend that I wasn't terrified to go in there. Nathaniel stopped our flirting with a gentle smile, reached out and took my hand.

"I'll keep you safe," he whispered as he pulled me up the front walk and inside.

Nathaniel swept the house with me in tow, checking each door, window, cabinet, closet. Gary was nowhere to be seen, thankfully. Hopefully before the night was out, he'd be finding out what it was like to have someone watching you while you slept while he rotted away in a jail cell with another inmate, preferably a dangerous one.

"The house is clear," Nathaniel told me seconds before I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him against me, pressed my mouth to his and let my emotions sweep over us both. I was hot with anger, mad with l.u.s.t, shivering with fear. It was a medley of feelings that I was not used to, and I knew a surefire way to get rid of them. In Nathaniel's hands, I would melt and reform into something else, someone else, someone stronger, smarter, better.

Nathaniel's hands grasped my hips as he pushed me into the wall, kissing my lips, my neck, my shoulders. The terror I had felt when I found the pictures was finally subsiding, fading into this heat and this energy that I had never experienced before with anyone. I reached down, unzipped his pants and cupped him with my hand while he moaned into my mouth and his fingers finally found their way under my shirt, burning a trail of fire up my side.

I grasped him behind the head with my other hand, tangling my fingers in his dark hair and pulling, moving his face just far enough back from mine that I could meet his eyes as I freed his c.o.c.k and wrapped my right leg around his waist. I stared straight at him, trying to breathe through the electricity that was ripping through my body, pumping the blood to my head and squeezing the muscles in my thighs. He stared back at me, face flushed, mouth slightly parted and dropped his right hand to my a.s.s. The other he used to position himself to push inside of me.

"Theresa," he said, but I touched my lips to his and silenced him with my tongue. Nathaniel thrust hard and fast, entering me with every inch until we were pressed together against the wall, moving with one another in this blissful tangle of flesh. I wrapped my arms around his neck, let my head drop back and fell into him. I forgot about everything else in that moment: there was only Nathaniel and me. His lips against my skin were hot and torturous, burning a hole into my soul while his body found pleasure in mine, taking me places I'd never been.

When my o.r.g.a.s.m started to build, I greeted it like an old friend, rode the waves of euphoria with Nathaniel and let him take me over the edge, plunge me into molten depths and break me into pieces. When I came up for air, he paused for a moment, slid out of me and stepped back. I stumbled slightly and he caught me, lifting me up until I found my feet.

"You have to put me back together," I told him as he reached for the door to my bedroom, opened it and carried us both to the bed. We fell together in a sweaty heap across my comforter and soon his arms were around me, holding me like we'd known each other forever. My past had been like a noose around my throat, choking the life out of me, denying my future. Now it was scattered across my soul like a broken mirror.

"Only you can put you back together," he told me as we lay there in silence for several moments. Our breathing was in tune with one another, whispering across the dark bedroom as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.

The obvious, of course, was that I had just slept with my bodyguard. But there was also something beyond that, something deeper that had taken place that I was having trouble making sense of. Who knew s.e.x could be such a powerful tool? I thought but immediately corrected myself. It wasn't just s.e.x. I had let my emotions play against his and now I was hearing a chorus of voices that I'd never heard before. I was waking up. It had taken me thirty-two years to get there, but here I was.

"You're right," I said as Nathaniel adjusted himself. At first, I thought he was getting up to leave but instead he just sat up, kneeling between my legs as he stared down at me, eyes dark from the shadows of the moon that leaked through the window and cast their pale fingers across his jaw, his neck, his suit jacket.

"I'm broken, too," he told me. "That's why I know that you can't escape your past by running from it, and you sure as h.e.l.l can't expect anyone else to fix it for you." I propped myself up on my elbows and stared at him as he loosened his tie and tossed it to the floor along with his coat. "But it doesn't hurt to ask for support."

"When did you learn that?" I asked him, hoping things weren't going to take a horrible turn for the awkward. I needed Nathaniel here. What if the police didn't find Gary tonight? His obsession was escalating to the point where I was certain it was going to be me or him. And it had to be him. I wasn't going anywhere.

"Today," Nathaniel said with a dirty smile. He leaned down and kissed me gently and even though we'd just finished, my body responded with an exhilarating burst of adrenaline. "I hope I'm not too out of practice," he said as he removed the holster with the gun and laid it out beside us. "I haven't had the opportunity to refine my skills." Nathaniel tried to smile, but it was tinged with sadness. "Since Gillian died, I haven't ... I didn't want to make love to a memory," he said as he put his hands on either side of my body. "Does that make any sense?" I swallowed hard and nodded. Words were not an option right now. I think if I'd tried to speak, moans would've come out instead. I bit my tongue and stayed silent. "And I thought that when I met you, that something like this might never happen. That all I'd be doing was comparing." He paused and my heart thumped painfully. There was anguish in his face now, haunting those green eyes, tensing the muscles in his arms and chest. "But I'm not. You looked like her and your situation reminded me so much of her, but you're not her. And I accept that. It's you that I want to make love with."

Nathaniel and I lay together in a sweaty tangle of sore flesh with my head on his chest and his arm around my waist. He had one hand on my belly and was looking at my scar, not judging, just looking.

"Tell me about it," he said as his fingers traced the rough flesh. "Tell me about everything." I sighed and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let me. He held me there so tightly that it brought tears to my eyes. Not once had I ever had anyone hold me like that, like I was so precious that they were afraid they might lose me. It was a feeling that I could get used to.

"I was pregnant once," I said, starting from the beginning. It was as good a place as any considering I'd had a normal childhood, an average family, a simple life. At least before I'd met him. "With Glen. We, um ... " I trailed off because it was hard to think of Glen with Nathaniel's s.e.xy body wrapped around mine. I'd have much rather gone for seconds, thank you very much. But he needed to know this stuff, had to know it if he was going to get involved with me in any fashion. My past had scared off more than one man in my past. "We got married young and his life goal was to have kids, so ... " I trailed off because it sounded so stupid from this point in my life, like that girl was someone else. Someone who was so afraid of their own heart that they'd used logic when they should've trusted in the deepest part of themselves. I shivered, despite Nathaniel's heat. "We had trouble getting pregnant at fist, and Glen was always blaming me, yelling ... I should've cut off his b.a.l.l.s when I had the chance." Nathaniel laughed and snuggled tightly against me, breathing against my hair and giving me the chills, the good kind.

"Want me to do it for you?" he asked, and I smiled.

"I'll get around to it," I said. "At least metaphorically speaking." I placed my hand over Nathaniel's and knew that if it had been his child in there, and I'd been his wife, bleeding all over the hospital floor, that things would've been different. He'd have fought for me. "Anyway, we filled out some adoption paperwork. I was a little young, but Glen's father was someone important." I waved my hand dismissively. I couldn't be bothered with those details. They didn't matter, not anymore. "And we got approved three days before I found out that I was finally pregnant. I had to beg Glen not to back out of the application." I shook my head and tried to forget the fights and the screaming and the crying. "Anyway, one day I woke up with blood just ... just f.u.c.king everywhere." I held out my hands to either side, but I didn't cry, not anymore. I'd cried a whole ocean of tears over this. The world had seen enough of my sorrow. "I had to have emergency surgery and when they were in there, they found something." I clenched my teeth and tried not to scream. "Without my permission, they performed a double ooph.o.r.ectomy. So I lost my baby and my ovaries all in one shot." I sighed heavily and tried to spare Nathaniel the gory details. "So I can't have biological children." I swallowed hard and waited for him to change, to act differently towards me. It had happened to me before. More than once.

"You have Rhea," he whispered softly. "So I think you made out like a bandit." I tried to keep the grin off my face, but I couldn't. I turned to Nathaniel, tried to kiss him, but he pulled away and my heart ceased beating for a moment. Is this where he tells me that we made a mistake? I opened my mouth to say something when Nathaniel wrapped his hands around mine and looked at me with all of those secrets burning in his eyes.

I stared back at him and realized that I was mistaken. Not secrets, secret. A big one, a life changer, something that could ruin what we hadn't even had the chance to build.

"Theresa," he told me, voice low, serious, and dark. He was going to a different place, Nathaniel Sutherland was, and I was almost afraid to follow him there. Almost. "I have to tell you this. What you do with the information is up to you, but you have to know." I took a deep breath and nodded, prepared for the worst.

"Give me your best shot," I said as he locked eyes with me and took me up on that offer.

"I'm a murderer."

CHAPTER 21.

I am definitely messed up, I thought as I stared at Nathaniel. My man of mystery was exactly what I had thought he'd be trouble. Still, I knew the circ.u.mstances, so I was willing to hear him out.

"Gillian's ex?" I asked, hoping that this wasn't going to be some horrible climax where Nathaniel admitted that he was actually the one that had killed his wife and went all psycho on me. I stared into his eyes and wondered how stupid I could possibly be to even think that. He nodded and closed his eyes like he was remembering something he'd rather forget.

"As long as we're telling secrets here," he said. "I have to do this." He opened his eyes and looked me straight in the face. "Besides Cedric, you're the only person in the world I'm going to tell this to." Nathaniel grabbed my hand and put it to his lips, pressing his hot mouth to my skin. "If you feel the need to kick me out or turn me in, follow your conscious, Theresa."

"Nope," I said, kissing him fierce and hard. "The only thing I'm following now is my heart. Say what you need to say and then let's bury our pasts together." Nathaniel brushed my hair away from my face and tried to smile, but it wouldn't take, not yet, not while he was still holding this all back from me.

"I didn't come home to find Gillian dead," Nathaniel admitted as if he was ashamed at himself for lying. "I came home to find her dying. I saw Tom plunge the screwdriver into her chest for the last time. I saw her seeing me and saying goodbye as she collapsed to the floor. And then I was standing over him and the screwdriver was in my hands... " Nathaniel stopped speaking and sat up. I could feel his stress like we were connected, feel it flowing from his skin and into mine. "I'm not a violent man, Theresa, but I will defend the ones I love," he said. "Or at the very least, I'd die trying. Instead I ended up in a pool of blood with Gillian's body on one side and Tom's on the other. I killed him and I don't even remember it, not a single moment. One second he was standing and the next he was falling." I leaned my head on Nathaniel's chest for moral support and tried to relax as he put his arms around me. He needed me just as much as I needed him. Our broken pasts were rising to the surface, but they weren't going to stay there for long. "I called Cedric and he helped me stage the crime scene. Fortunately," he said, and I could see that he was choking on that word, like he was disgusted with himself for even saying it. "For me, it was an open and shut case, but you have to know because one day, they could reopen it and come for me. There's always that possibility."

"And one day you could realize how much trouble I am. There's always that possibility." Nathaniel laughed, not his chocolate laugh, it wasn't the right moment for that, but his real one, the one that was so human. It was nice to see that I could break the tension. I tried to be surprised or disgusted or angry with him, but I couldn't drum up any of those emotions. All I felt was sad. I wanted to scoop Nathaniel up and take him away from that pain, and if I was reading his face right, he wanted to do that very same thing with me.

Unfortunately for us, Gary had other plans.

When Nathaniel's phone rang, he didn't ignore it much as I wanted him to. After all, he was a bodyguard first and foremost. His instincts paid off as he dug around in his discarded pants. When he found the phone, he looked up at me with a frown.

"It's my friend from the police station," he said and answered it with a somber h.e.l.lo. As he listened on the other line, I stood up and grabbed my robe, wrapping it tightly around myself to ward off the chill that was creeping up through the wood floor and winding its way through my body. Nathaniel was putting his pants back on. Not a good sign. "Okay," he said. "And thank you." When he hung up, his face was grim.

"What?" I asked, feeling like I might burst if he didn't tell me right then and there. "Did they find Gary?"

"They searched his house, but he wasn't there," Nathaniel said and then paused as if he wasn't sure he should share his next bit of information with me.

"Nathaniel," I began and yes, I was using my 'mom' tone, so sue me. This was serious. "We just spilled our deepest, darkest secrets. Don't back out on me now." He nodded and picked up his jacket, removing the pistol from the holster, a move that scared the c.r.a.p out of me.

"Gary had ... pictures of you. Hundreds of them stapled to the wall, in drawers, spread out across his bed. He had a ... shrine, I guess you'd call it, in his closet. There was a lock of your hair, a pair of your shoes, even ... " Nathaniel stopped talking like he was ashamed with himself, as if this was somehow his fault. "Your empty gun case." I didn't waste time arguing or questioning him, I just threw myself to the floor and reached up inside my box spring. He was right; the case was gone. "I'm sorry," Nathaniel told me as I rose to my feet and looked at him with an expression of desperation plastered across my features. "I should've been more careful. I " I put my hands on his upper arms and squeezed gently.

"You were too busy wooing me? I know, but it doesn't matter. Let's just get the f.u.c.k out of here before he shows up." He nodded and reached down for his coat, tossing it over my shoulders as I dug out some clothes, stuffed them in a duffel bag and slipped a pair of flats on my feet.

I followed Nathaniel into the hallway, watching as he flicked the lights on as we went, moving with our backs to the wall and our hearts pounding in our throats. At least, mine was. Nathaniel looked like a freaking G.o.d with his muscular chest bare, his pistol clenched between his sure fingers, so maybe his heart was still, waiting, listening for any sound that might alert him to Gary's presence.

"Stay behind me," Nathaniel instructed as we moved around the corner and into the dining room. The house was peaceful and each light illuminated another bit of darkness, another shadowy corner proving that wherever Gary was, he wasn't here.

Still, I didn't breathe until we were outside, until Nathaniel had checked the car and told me it was safe to climb in.

"Where are we going now?" I asked him as I adjusted the heating vents so that they pointed straight at me. January nights could be unbearably cold, even more so when your heart was iced over with fear. Nathaniel smiled over at me, but the expression was tight. He was tense, that much was obvious, and I didn't blame him, but it did scare the s.h.i.t out of me.

"To my place," he said, and despite the potential severity of the situation, I got goose b.u.mps. It had been awhile since a guy had taken me to his place. There was just something so attractive about that, so personal. I kept my smile to myself and tried to use the quiet drive to break my thoughts up, make them a bit more manageable. Nathaniel had killed a man. Okay. I could get used to that. Or maybe I didn't need to. Maybe it didn't bother me as much as it should, but knowing what had happened to his wife, knowing how painful it was to go through something like this, I couldn't blame him. If I'd been in his position, I'd have probably done the same thing.

I unhooked my seat belt and scooted over to the center seat, so I could put my hand on Nathaniel's thigh. As I looked up at his strong face, lit by the lights from the odometer, I wondered if the guilt ever ate away at him, if it made things harder, or if he even felt any at all.

Too bad I was about to find out the hard way.

Nathaniel drove us down a series of side streets that I'd never been on, winding us through suburban neighborhoods and down small side streets, all the while keeping his gaze locked on the rearview mirror.

"Are we being followed?" I asked him, and at first he didn't answer. After awhile though, he shook his head and gave me a guilty smile.

"No, but I wanted to be sure, just in case," he told me as he steered us back towards the highway and took the first exit off towards a neighborhood I had never been in before called Shrouded Hills. There was a long, narrow road that led straight up a hill. All along it were beautiful houses, built into unusual shapes to accommodate the slope. There was some impressive architecture up there, and I could only imagine how beautiful it would be in the daylight, when all of the little details were visible. "Maybe we could take a walk in the morning?" he asked me with a wicked smile. "That is, if we can bother to drag ourselves out of bed."

"You're back to flirting already?" I asked my bare chested bodyguard. "That didn't take long. I guess we're safe up here then?" Nathaniel shook his head.

"You're not safe until Gary is behind bars," he said, letting his sentence stretch out with this imaginary or ... or until he's dead. I didn't respond, waiting tensely as we pulled into Nathaniel's driveway.

The house at the end of it made me sorry for ever wanting the one across the street from my rental. It was ma.s.sive, too big for one person, and towered over us with brown siding, cheerful, frosted porch lamps, and a surprise package on the doorstep. Nathaniel didn't see it until it was too late, not because he wasn't looking but because he didn't have time to look. No sooner had he opened his door and come around for mine, than I heard the shot.

With my pistol in hand, Gary shot Nathaniel Sutherland in the chest.

Blood bloomed out from Nathaniel's wound as he stumbled back and hit the hood of the car at the same moment a scream burst from my mouth, filled the night air and shattered the perfect gentle silence of suburbia. Gary didn't stop, didn't even slow down. He just kept walking towards me with his brown hair slicked back and his eyes glossy. He didn't speak, not one single word, but I heard a whole chorus of demons howling in my head when I met his gaze, when I caught my first glimpse at what a broken man really looks like. Is this what Nathaniel saw when he found Tom with Gillian? Is this how he felt inside? There was a helpless rage deep within me, bubbling up from the darkest depths, born from the best of intentions.

I crouched down, scooted forward, hoping with every beat of my heart that I'd have enough time to reach Nathaniel, to take the gun from his fingers and defend myself. I didn't know if he was dead, but he wasn't moving and there was blood everywhere, so much blood. I had to crawl through it to get to him, kneel in it while I pulled the pistol from Nathaniel's fingers, sit in it while I looked up at the man who used to be known as Gary Harper.

"Stop," I told him, as I swallowed my fears and my uncertainties and went to this calm, quiet place that only those on their last breath can find within themselves. Trust me, it isn't a place you want to visit. "Don't move, Gary," I told him as I watched his face, his arms, his hands. If he tensed, I would pull the trigger, I would shoot him and I wouldn't care if he lived or died.

"Why?" he asked as he lowered the barrel from my head to my heart. "So you can f.u.c.k with me again? I don't think so, Theresa. You broke my heart, so I'm going to break yours. It's only fair."

Gary moved; I moved.

Time ceased to exist and everything stilled.

I closed my eyes, pulled the trigger and felt an impact. At first I thought I'd been shot, but when a thump sounded before me, I opened my eyes and found that it was just the recoil from the pistol.

Gary Harper was dead. I had hit him right between the eyes, killed him instantly, which was a more merciful, painless death than Nathaniel was going to get. I didn't waste time crying over my ex-husband, contemplating the intricacies that separated self-defense from murder, wondering about the fine line between life and death. All I heard was Nathaniel's wet breathing, so I dropped the gun, and moved over so that I could put my hands on either side of his face.