Read The Kill Clause for Free Online

flanked her in their chairs protectively.
    Mac’s free hand fluttered in a calming gesture. “Hey, Tim. No offense, huh? We thought it would be good for her to be out right now, given—”
    “Shut up, Mac.” Tim’s eyes didn’t leave Dray. Her head was tilting. The others looked not many drinks behind her. Her eyes closed, shetilted her head into the cup of her hand. Tim bit down, the corners of his jaw flexing. “Andrea. Please let’s go.”
    She moved to rise but only got so far as to lean heavily on the table.
    Fowler picked up an empty shot glass, held it up like a scope, and eyed Tim through it. “Next time someone goes out on a limb for you, you might want to respect that,” he said, slurring slightly. “Me and Tito went out for you, man.”
    Mac removed his arm from around Dray and stood up. Mac possessed effortless good looks, his hair tousled just so, day-old stubble touching his cheeks—Tim was all exertion and discipline by comparison.
    “Listen guys, we’ve all had a long night here,” Mac said. “Let’s just take it easy.”
    “Yeah, let’s go easy on the Medal of Valor winner,” Harrison said.
    Gutierez snickered. Tim’s eyes shot over in his direction. Steeled by the others’ expectations and the row of empties on the table before him, Gutierez stared back. “Take a hint, pal. Your wife’s fine here. We take care of our own.”
    Dray mumbled something angrily.
    Tim turned and headed for the door. Behind him he heard a chorus of murmurs.
    “—good at walking away—”
    “—better keep moving—”
    Tim reached the door and threw the dead bolt, which gave off a metallic clank. The bar fell silent. He walked back down the length of the bar, the few remaining drunks watching him from their stools.
    He reached the cluster of deputies and turned to the bar, facing away from them. He removed his Smith & Wesson, still encased in its belt holster, and set it on the bar. His badge-heavy wallet followed. His jacket he hung neatly on a high-backed stool. He cuffed his sleeves neatly, two folds each.
    When he turned, the deputies had sobered a few notches. He walked over to Gutierez. “Stand up.”
    Gutierez shifted in his chair, leaning back, trying to look tough and unworried, and not succeeding at either. Tim waited. No one spoke. Another deputy took a sip of beer, set his bottle down on the table with a soft thud. Gutierez finally looked away.
    Tim put his jacket back on, grabbed his gun and badge. He stepped around the table, but Dray was already rising to meet him. She leaned heavily on him, 135 pounds of muscle and gear.
    He hooked an arm around her waist and navigated her to the door.
     
    •He undressed her like a child, crouching to pull off her boots while she leaned on his shoulders. When he tucked her in, she threw the sheets back, sweating. He kissed her on her moist forehead.
    She looked up at him, her face unlined and youthful in the dark. Her voice quavered. “What did he look like?”
    Tim told her.
    He wiped her tears, one cheek with one thumb, then the other.
    “Tell me what happened. In the shack. Every detail.”
    He told her, fighting back his own tears at times, wiping hers throughout.
    “I wish you’d killed him,” she said.
    “Then we would have lost our chance at the truth.”
    “But he’d be dead. Gone from this planet. Eradicated.” More tears than Tim could keep up with. She took his hand, squeezing it in both of hers, letting her tears streak down her temples to the pillow. “I’m angry. So angry. At everything. Everyone.”
    His throat was closing, so he cleared it once, hard.
    “Are you gonna go to sleep?” she asked.
    “I don’t think so.”
    She drifted off for a moment, then opened her eyes. “Me neither.” She smiled sleepily.
    “I’m gonna go watch a little TV. I don’t want to thrash around and keep you up.” He smoothed the hair gently out of her eyes. “At least one of us should get some sleep.”
    She nodded. “Okay.”
    He lay