First Kiss 25
Bobby was still shaking. Alex walked him to the car, his attention completely out of whack. He walked two steps, then spun in a circle, tracing the path of a bird with his eyes. Two steps more, and another half-spin, this time checking the patrol car as it pulled away with their perp inside.
To be honest, Alex was shaken up, too, but she hadn't had to face the worst of it. When he'd turned his gun on them, Bobby had negotiated her freedom. Now that she thought of it, he'd done that several times in their partnership. Some of it was chivalry, she had no doubt. Some of it was common sense. Bobby was huge compared to her; if someone was going to block a bullet for the other, he had more chance of stopping one.
They climbed into the car and she got a closer look at him, at his distress. He was still red; still not breathing evenly.
"Bobby?" she whispered, but he gave her a warning look and a hand sign to stop. He leaned over and looked out the window.
She was usually better at comforting the innocent victims in these situations, and so she often took that role. That was what had happened today. The man pulled a gun on them: Bobby, Alex, and his own wife. Bobby'd convinced him to let Alex leave with his wife, to take care of her. Then followed 15 excruciating minutes while Alex's attention was split between the woman and watching Bobby's back. She'd called for backup, then drawn her weapon and listened intently at the door, trying to hear past the woman's hysterics. It had been a relief when the others had arrived and taken her out of the house.
He wasn't rocking now. He sat back in the seat and folded his hands together, squeezing his fingers white.
She couldn't hear him clearly through the door. She only heard him when he raised his voice to shout. He'd shouted "Shoot me if you have to, but it won't change anything!" Then he'd practically begged the guy to shoot him. It had scared her out of her wits.
Bobby had been right, of course. When he realized he was about to shoot someone who had nothing to do with his troubles, he'd turned his gun on himself. And that's when Bobby had tackled him, knocked the gun away and shouted "Clear!" Alex returned to the room only to tie up the loose ends. And now here was Bobby, still in knots.
He smacked the door hard with his fist, making her jump. Alex pulled the car over.
"Okay, that's it!" She shouted at him. "You pull this kind of crap again, and I'm going to make you go with the EMT's next time!" She stared straight ahead, her eyes smoldering. "Shit, Bobby! I could have wrecked the damn car!"
He was hunched over in the seat, and turning red again. "Sorry," he said.
He sounded like he was hyperventilating. She turned to him, and put a hand on his back. "Bobby," she said quietly. "I know how scary that was for you. I know how you feel."
He listened, knowing it was true. Tears fell.
"You can't hang on to all this anymore. You've got to let it out."
He turned away from her and sobbed, still bottling up the most intense of his emotions.
Alex got out of the car, walked around, and opened his door. She pulled him into a hug, and let him sob into her shoulder. At last, the sobs subsided and he slipped away from her grip. He took a deep breath and tilted his head up at the sky. "Sorry," he whispered.
It broke her heart, that he still couldn't allow himself to be vulnerable around her. She put her hand on his cheek. "I'm not." She noticed his breathing was regular, and his color almost back to normal. Except for the red, puffy eyes, he almost seemed himself. "I really will send you on the bus next time. You're going to give yourself a heart attack."
Something changed in his eyes, and she saw the door was opening. She pulled him back into a softer hug, and then kissed him on the lips.
"I thought I was wrong," he whispered. "When I told him to shoot me. I really thought I was wrong this time."
Alex squeezed his arms. "But you weren't."