CHAPTER 11

Joanne walked into the dark room and felt around for a light switch. When the room flooded with light, she gasped. It was full of tall shelves stocked with everything from flashlights to rubber hoses. She almost tripped over her backpack as she started walking the aisles. Why would Marshall have all this stuff? Who was he? How did Alex know him?

Taking the bag, she started walking the aisles, grabbing a flashlight, grabbing a handful of batteries, a box of matches, and other basic items. When she reached the back, her bag was heavy with stuff she thought she’d need. She’d spent four years in the Brownies growing up and knew what it took to go camping.

She spotted a small silver box on the top shelf and took it down. Inside was a silver .45. She reached in and felt its weight, knowing she had to make room in her bag. She grabbed a box of bullets and before placing the gun in the small side pocket of the bag, she made sure it was unloaded. Her father had forced her to take gun classes a few years back, so she knew how to handle a weapon, especially a .45. It was one of her favorites.

Her mind flashed to an image of her mom’s body. 

She closed her eyes on a wave of despair. How could she have been so stupid? She should have taken the chance she had to end the Connery family. 

Her father should have thought about what the consequences could be. 

He should have known ahead of time what he was going into with that fight against the Connery Family.

 he was thinking of going against the family that controlled the drug lords and the politicians, high-powered people who had run the United States for years. 

Not only did they have power, but an unlimited supply of money.

he didn’t think about his family's safety, he hadn’t even thought about his own safety. he’d only been focused on doing justice. Bringing down the Connery family. The recognition. The fame.

She wished she could kick him now for his pride and stupidity. 

It was his fault, all his fault, and there was nothing she could do to make it right. The despair was almost overwhelming. Looking around the room, she could just imagine herself sinking down and crumbling with hopelessness, like she always did for the past years.

How would she ever recover from something like this? The guilt of her family's lost live would always weigh on her conscience.

 She wanted to bang her head against the wall. She wished she’d never survived the attack. It would have been easier on everyone.

Then she shook her head and cleared it from the dark thoughts. This wasn’t her. She’d never once thought anything like that before. She blinked a few times and her mind whirled. Survivor’s guilt. She’d experienced it several times in the past. She had seen plenty of doctors that had been diagnosed her with PTSD.

 She knew that Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder could hit anyone, but never in her life did she think it could hit her this bad. Or that it would be so debilitating.

She’d been standing in the same spot for almost ten minutes, and in that time she’d gone from fear to depression, to thoughts of her own death, then back to acceptance. So many emotions in such a short time.

Then her mind focused on Alex and she wondered how he was dealing with it all. Of course, he didn’t have the extra guilt of causing everything. Was he having issues like she was? she'd heard about what put him in jail but she didn't know the full story.

One thing was for sure, she thought as she straightened her spine. When she walked out of this room, she was going to leave all of those dark thoughts behind her. Her father had always taught her that whatever didn’t kill her, only made her stronger.

She would never put a fight in front of other’s safety like her father did. 

She should have been smart enough to begin with, but now she knew she’d never make the same mistake again.

She looked around to see if there was anything else she’d need in the room to help them survive the next few days. As she started walking back out of the room, she spotted a small bottle and started laughing.

“What?” Alex ducked his head in the door. “What’s so funny?” He walked over to her.

“This.” She held up the bottle. “Fingernail polish remover. Just what I needed.”

She smiled at him and for the first time since meeting him, she saw him really smiling back.

Smiling changed him somehow. His whole face lit up and he became almost goofy looking. Gone was the self-absorbed, cocky attitude, the macho man who was full of himself. Instead there was this muscular man who reminded her more of a teddy bear. Looking at him smile made her want to smile even more.

“Listen, Alex—”

“Alexander,” he said and took her bag from her hands.

“What?” She continued to look at him, and his smile was doing something to her insides.

“My real name is Alexander Kane. Not Alex. I like when you call me by my full name.” 

He lifted the bag and nodded his head. “This shouldn’t be too heavy for you to carry.” He walked out of the room and set it next to his black one, which looked equally full.

She took the bottle of remover with her and followed him. “Your name is Alexander Kane? You are Alexander Kane?” When he nodded his head, she crossed her arms.

“Did my father really send you?”