Written Fireside is a round robin style written, short story feature based on the campfire game where one person starts a story then passes it on to the next person gathered by the fire to continue.

For each story I write part 1, then each participating author (a Fire Writer) adds a part in turn.

Sep 30, 2013

Written Fireside: For Clara Part 13

Derek cut his engine and smiled. Clara could barely breathe as the ominous silent threat of the predator when stalking prey washed over her. She watched in him slowly open his door and step out, gun in hand, horrified but unable to react.

“Sweetheart,” Mark squeezed her hand, “when I have his attention, I want you to run.”

A swift side-glance revealed his other hand on the door handle. Tears gathered in her eyes. Mark was going to face an armed lunatic with only his bare hands for defense.

“No, I won’t let you-” The high pitched whine of sirens interrupted her.

Clara felt relieved for a second then terror once more overwhelmed. Her eyes widened as Derek raised his arm, aimed the end of his barrel at her undeterred by the sound of approaching police. She heard Mark’s car door open and gasped as Derek’s attention shifted to her companion.

“It’ll be alright RaRa. Help is on the way.”

“Then wait for it.”

“I can’t take the chance.”

Something inside of her snapped, “Stop.”

Barbara had always protected her. Mark was going to die trying to do the same. Her fingers curled around the grip of the gun in her lap. It was time she protected herself.

Clara could hear Mark speaking again but let his words flow past her unheard. She lifted the weapon, used the dashboard to steady her hands, and shouted at Derek. Their gazes locked. Her blood chilled. Certainty enveloped her like a shroud. He was going to kill them both.

“Drop your guns. Drop them now.” The voice of authority rang out as uniformed officers surrounded them all.

The gun dropped to the floorboard from her suddenly nerveless hold. Shaking she obeyed the order to get out of the car. In minutes, it was all sorted out. Clara was able to stand in the comfort of Mark’s arms while they watched Derek marched away in handcuffs.

“I thought that gun wasn't loaded.”

Clara shifted to look up at him, “I don’t believe it is.”

His arms tightened. “You took a crazy risk.”

“I love you.”

“And I you,”

Mark leaned down. His forehead touched hers. Their breath mingled. There were details to work out, official statements to give, so much to talk about but none of that mattered right now. At last, Clara trusted whatever was to come she’d be able to handle it.

Her arms wrapped around Mark’s neck and she tilted her head slightly to the side. His fingers brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. Her heart raced. The look in his eyes sent heat rushing through her veins. Each second seemed like forever until finally his lips claimed hers.

The End

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