Page 84 of Protecting Dallas

I looked down, and I was holding a jagged piece of porcelain. The top two-thirds of the toilet tank cover was gone now — shattered into a million pieces.

I dropped my makeshift weapon. The man was motionless. Lifeless. I sank back against the wall for support, wondering if maybe I’d killed yet another person who’d been trying to kill me.

God I hoped so.

I closed my eyes for a moment, reveling in a strange new feeling of superiority. The vainglorious triumph of having bested an enemy, in a contest at the highest of all possible levels: life or death.

Adrenaline surged through me, causing my limbs to shake. I wondered if it was like this for my Navy SEALs, too. If Maddox and Austin and Kane had experienced the same sort of feelings on the battlefield. The same euphoria and relief and exultation over an adversary, even sharing those feelings with my brother.

Dammit, Connor. Now you’ve got me killing people, too?

I swept my hair back with one hand, my fingers spread. No matter what I did, it kept flopping back over my face.

You should’ve stayed with us.

As time went on, I realized I missed my brother more and more. Perhaps that had something to do with the guys. They were keeping his memory alive for me, constantly talking about him, bringing him up. Not allowing me forget about him. Not letting the memories — or the pain that came with them — fade.

And just maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing either.

I reached for my brother’s pendant, to derive some measure of comfort and reassurance. It felt warm in my palm.

Connor, I wish—

A hand closed over mine! My eyes flew open, and what I saw was terrifying. The man was on me! He’d somehow crawled over, his eyes wild, his hair plastered to his head by a helmet of congealing blood.

“OHHH!”

I tried pushing him off, but he was too strong. Tried slipping out from under him, but he was too big. I pounded my fists against his back. Then his hands went for my neck, fingers splayed, trembling… reaching…

I kicked, and managed to pull away just enough that he missed. But his eyes, unfocused as they were, were gaining in strength and coherence.

Then he stood up.

“DALLAS!”

I whirled, and there was a blur of motion. Someone flew over me, crashing into the man head-first. They went sprawling across the room, in the direction of the balcony.

What the—

I saw Austin, off to my side. He had his pistol out, but he wasn’t aiming it. Instead he was turning it over in his hand, butt-first. He stepped forward, intending to use it as a club…

Whoosh!

The intruder slipped from Maddox’s grasp. Without looking back he vaulted over the railing and fell two stories into the street, landing with a hollow-sounding THUD!

A car alarm blared. We ran to the edge of the balcony, just in time to see the man getting up. Somehow, incredibly, a car had broken his fall. Or he’d broken the car, or they’d broken each other, or—

“No!”

Maddox’s hand shot out, just as Austin was about to fire. He closed it over his arm and shoved downward, diverting the sidearm’s barrel at the balcony floor.

; “Can’t do it man,” he gasped. “Too many people.”

Austin roared in frustration, screaming at the sky. Still, he knew Maddox was right. Together we watched the white-haired man flee through the alley, trailing droplets of bright red blood behind him. He headed immediately for the nearest group of party-goers. He reached the edge of the street and limped into the crowd, just another strange face melting into the chaos.

“FUCK!”