his veins, he turned towards the commotion on the patio and pulled the trigger at the same time. The sound of the gun going off was deafening as it bounced off the mountainside and returned to them as a thunderous echo.
In a split second, Nate reacted. He wasn’t close enough to Zane to grab the gun from him so he did the next best thing. He put himself between the bullet and Hanna, who was now frantically trying to open the patio door.
Inside the ballroom, chaos broke out. Jennie had pushed her way to the doors and watched helplessly as Nate absorbed the bullet and landed in a crumpled heap on the ground.
Someone behind her yelled out over the deafening music, “Call 911! Someone’s been shot.”
Jennie didn’t care if Nate told her to wait in the ballroom. She thrust open the doors, exposing herself to Zane’s firepower. For a just a second her eyes locked onto Zane’s. Regret had already begun to set in. He was trembling, shaking so badly that he lost control of the gun and it fell to the ground with a dull clank. Already, sirens raged in the background, warning Zane that his capturers were on their way. Zane looked at the gun and then he forced his gaze to meet Jennie’s one more time, as if for the first time realizing what he had done.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed to her and then he turned and stumbled away out into the dark night.
Before he was even out of sight, Jennie ran to Nate and dropped to her knees, thinking he was already dead. She stretched out her bare hands and began stroking his soft wheat-colored hair. When he groaned and rolled over, she shrieked, first from the surprise and then out of pure joy. Before he could respond, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. Tears were coming now fast and furious, dripping from her cheeks and onto Nate’s skin, leaving a warm, wet sensation that rivaled the cool night air. The minute their skin connected, the sensation of warmth and comfort that had come in the past flowed effortlessly between them.
“Jen,” he said, his words sounding muffled from their awkward position. Jennie either didn’t hear him or couldn’t bring herself to let go.
“Jen,” he said, more firmly this time, “I’m okay. I didn’t get hit. I just fell down.”
Finally, with this assurance she pulled back. Still a little disoriented by the fall, Nate first sat up and got his bearings before finally slowly rising to his feet.
“You really didn’t get hit?” she asked. Nate pulled back his dark coat to show her that there were no bullet wounds. As if she needed proof, she ran her hands thoroughly across his chest and stomach. Nate smiled at her reaction and tried not to enjoy her touch while at the same time storing away the memories to savor another time.
By now, students had begun to venture out onto the small porch and police were everywhere. The dance was prematurely shut down and the hotel became a crime scene with Jennie and Nate stuck in the middle of it. The rest of their night was spent answering questions and helping the police in any way they could. Finally, near midnight they were free to go.
The air had turned chilly with winter moisture. Nate was quick to notice Jennie shivering on the way out to the limo. Braiden and Marissa were long gone; it was just the two of them now walking in the dark of night. Nate took off his coat and wrapped it around Jennie’s shoulders. They were quiet as they walked, both frazzled from the night’s events. On the ride home, they sat close together but not touching. So much had changed in such a short period of time. Jennie wanted to crawl into Nate’s arms, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. Still feeling cold, she slipped her hands into the wide pockets of his coat but recoiled when she felt the cold metal of a bullet in the right hand pocket.
Jennie felt her stomach lurch as she tried to make sense of her discovery. To be sure, she was right, she rolled the bullet between her thumb and
In a split second, Nate reacted. He wasn’t close enough to Zane to grab the gun from him so he did the next best thing. He put himself between the bullet and Hanna, who was now frantically trying to open the patio door.
Inside the ballroom, chaos broke out. Jennie had pushed her way to the doors and watched helplessly as Nate absorbed the bullet and landed in a crumpled heap on the ground.
Someone behind her yelled out over the deafening music, “Call 911! Someone’s been shot.”
Jennie didn’t care if Nate told her to wait in the ballroom. She thrust open the doors, exposing herself to Zane’s firepower. For a just a second her eyes locked onto Zane’s. Regret had already begun to set in. He was trembling, shaking so badly that he lost control of the gun and it fell to the ground with a dull clank. Already, sirens raged in the background, warning Zane that his capturers were on their way. Zane looked at the gun and then he forced his gaze to meet Jennie’s one more time, as if for the first time realizing what he had done.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed to her and then he turned and stumbled away out into the dark night.
Before he was even out of sight, Jennie ran to Nate and dropped to her knees, thinking he was already dead. She stretched out her bare hands and began stroking his soft wheat-colored hair. When he groaned and rolled over, she shrieked, first from the surprise and then out of pure joy. Before he could respond, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. Tears were coming now fast and furious, dripping from her cheeks and onto Nate’s skin, leaving a warm, wet sensation that rivaled the cool night air. The minute their skin connected, the sensation of warmth and comfort that had come in the past flowed effortlessly between them.
“Jen,” he said, his words sounding muffled from their awkward position. Jennie either didn’t hear him or couldn’t bring herself to let go.
“Jen,” he said, more firmly this time, “I’m okay. I didn’t get hit. I just fell down.”
Finally, with this assurance she pulled back. Still a little disoriented by the fall, Nate first sat up and got his bearings before finally slowly rising to his feet.
“You really didn’t get hit?” she asked. Nate pulled back his dark coat to show her that there were no bullet wounds. As if she needed proof, she ran her hands thoroughly across his chest and stomach. Nate smiled at her reaction and tried not to enjoy her touch while at the same time storing away the memories to savor another time.
By now, students had begun to venture out onto the small porch and police were everywhere. The dance was prematurely shut down and the hotel became a crime scene with Jennie and Nate stuck in the middle of it. The rest of their night was spent answering questions and helping the police in any way they could. Finally, near midnight they were free to go.
The air had turned chilly with winter moisture. Nate was quick to notice Jennie shivering on the way out to the limo. Braiden and Marissa were long gone; it was just the two of them now walking in the dark of night. Nate took off his coat and wrapped it around Jennie’s shoulders. They were quiet as they walked, both frazzled from the night’s events. On the ride home, they sat close together but not touching. So much had changed in such a short period of time. Jennie wanted to crawl into Nate’s arms, but he seemed lost in his own thoughts. Still feeling cold, she slipped her hands into the wide pockets of his coat but recoiled when she felt the cold metal of a bullet in the right hand pocket.
Jennie felt her stomach lurch as she tried to make sense of her discovery. To be sure, she was right, she rolled the bullet between her thumb and
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