“If I’d made the shot before he did—”
“She’d probably still be dead!” Her voice had gotten loud, so she brought it down a few decibels. “His finger was on the trigger. I remember. I was staring at it, praying that he didn’t pull it. If you’d put a bullet in his head that half-second earlier, what would’ve happened? I don’t know what a body’s reaction to being shot would be, but if his hand had tightened, even a little bit, he would’ve killed her anyway.”
“We don’t know that!” Now he was yelling. “We don’t know what would’ve happened!”
“No.” For some reason, his frenzy was making it easier for her to be calm. “We don’t. If I hadn’t screamed, if you’d shot a tiny bit sooner, if another deputy had needed a bag of potato chips and happened to be in the store, if my mom would’ve misplaced her car keys and been five minutes later getting there… I’ve thought all of these things. Every time I rewrite it in my mind, though, it doesn’t help. My mom’s still dead, and I’m too messed up in the head to leave the house.”
Breathing hard, he stared at her. His face was pulled tight, his eyes almost wild, and he looked like a stranger. Deciding she needed to fix that, Daisy closed the gap between them and took his face in her hands, just like he’d done for her earlier.
“I’m alive because you shot him. You’re alive because you shot him. The other deputies who arrived to back you up are alive because you shot him. I know you wish you could’ve saved my mom, too, but it didn’t work out that way. You need to make your peace with that, or you’ll end up as crazy as I am.”
“You’re not crazy.”
Her laugh was more of a sob. “Oh, Chris. I do love you.” The words were out, raw and honest. His reaction when she’d tried to kiss him was bad enough, but now, if he rejected her… It was too horrible to think about. But no matter what he said or did, it wouldn’t change the truth about her feelings. She did love him. She’d loved him since that awful day, and she’d keep loving him for the rest of her life. A sense of resigned peace filled her, and she slid her arms around his middle. It was a long time before he relaxed enough to hug her back.
“I love you, too, Dais.” His hold on her tightened. “You’re my best friend.”
Joy flooded her for just a moment before the truth soured her happiness. Chris was right—they were friends. No matter how much she might wish for more, friends were all they ever could be. Shoving away the melancholy cloud that settled over her at the thought, she hugged him tighter. If friendship was all he could offer, she’d hold onto that with both hands. He was her best friend, too, and that was precious and wonderful. Daisy wasn’t about to ruin that by sulking because Chris didn’t have a romantic interest in her. She could do the just-friends thing, she decided, even as her heart twisted painfully in protest.
With a sigh, she disentangled herself from Chris’s hold. “My brain is tired. Can we watch something stupid and mindless?”
“Sure.” He sounded relieved, which made Daisy duck her head to hide a smile.
“Or we could talk about our feelings for another couple of hours.” She tried to make her tone as earnest as possible as she sent him a sideways glance. “Then we could braid each other’s hair and talk about cute boys.”
His expression of horror faded as his eyes narrowed, and he lunged for her. With a squeal of laughter, Daisy ducked under his arm and dashed for the living room. She’d almost made it to the couch when he caught her and lifted her off her feet. Chris spun her around before tossing her into the air. Weightless for a moment, she landed on the couch with a grunt.
When she saw Chris start to hurdle the couch, she hurried to pull her legs clear of his landing zone, but he skipped the cushions completely and landed on his feet in front of the sofa. He examined her DVD collection for a while, and Daisy studied him. After their gut-ripping conversation, she felt surprisingly lighter. There was a possibility that she hadn’t caused her mom’s death, and that was a huge relief.
“How about this one?” He held up a goofy comedy with no redeeming intellectual qualities at all.
Daisy grinned. “Perfect.”
*
Her eyes still closed against the invasive early morning light, Daisy shifted and held back a groan. Waking wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been after the night on the training room floor, but her muscles protested the awkward sleeping position. Her neck, especially, was twisted in an uncomfortable way, with her temple resting on something too hard to be even the worst of pillows.