Pretense

Chapter Eight

Savior

Lyle paused briefly outside the room he'd been told Cade was in. He knew he couldn't just burst into the room. Cade could decimate Samarah before he even knew what was happening. Lyle would have to be careful how he handled the present situation. His emotions for Samarah couldn't cloud his judgment. It would get them both killed. Lyle's mind raced as he tried to come up with a well thought, albeit quick, plan. He tightened his grip on the handgun he held and prepared to enter the room, without a set plan. There was really no way to judge what Cade would be able to do. He pushed the door open quietly, with his gun ready to be fired, but as far as Lyle could tell, Cade wasn't in the room. The first thing Lyle noticed was the putrid scent that assaulted his senses. He was overwhelmed by the smell of decaying carpet, drying blood and something Lyle couldn't quite place. He scanned the room cautiously, forcing himself to ignore the stench that tickled at his nose. Lyle saw her, then. His eyes had almost passed right over her listless body. She seemed to be unconscious, not dead, since he could see the unsteady rise and fall of her chest. She lay in a pool of her own blood, her blond hair soaked in the liquid as her head lulled to the side, making her almost face down. Lyle felt a surge of anger flow through him. Cade was going to regret what he had done to Samarah. He deserved a long and painful death, but Lyle would settle on a quick one. Lyle rushed to Samarah, lowering his gun, and shook her gently. He received a low moan in response. Lyle stroked her cheek gently as he spoke softly.

"Samarah, it's me. It's Lyle."

She whimpered helplessly as if she were having a nightmare. Lyle wondered if he were hurting her by just touching her.

"Baby girl, I need you to open your eyes right now. Just for me."

Lyle propped her up in his lap, covering himself with her blood. The wetness that covered him hardly even registered as he tried to soothe her.

"I know you hate me now, but I can live with your hate. You just have to wake up for me, so you can hate me. Wake up before Cade comes back."
"A little too late, Mr. Lyle."

Cade held a gun pointed steadily at Lyle's head. Lyle cursed himself for being so careless. Lyle hadn't even heard Cade walk to him or cock the gun. Cade had probably been waiting for him, hiding in the room, waiting for the right time to make his move. Lyle had let his guard down when he had seen Samarah and now they would both pay for it.

"This is sorta anti-climatic for me. I mean, I've been waiting to kill you for years, and this is it. I just have to point a gun at your head and fire it? I think I was hoping for some kind of fight or something. Not just trap you and blow your head off. This isn't even close to comparing to the pain you've put me in through the years. You'd be getting off easy if I did that. I don't want that."

Cade hesitated as he seemed to be thinking of ways that he could kill Lyle without making it so easy. A look of irritation passed over his face that Lyle noticed instantly.

"You've even dropped your weapon already. I don't even get to threaten you with death if you don't lower it. This isn't fair."

Cade's words resembled a five-year-old who had been told that he couldn't go out to play. It would be funny-if he weren't talking about his disappointment in the lack of violence in the killing of someone.

"I'd be happy to raise my gun and let you fight me for it, Cade."

Lyle started to raise his gun up, but Cade noticed. His eyes flicked and the gun went flying across the room as several cracks sounded. Lyle glanced down at his fingers that were severely disfigured now. Cade had broken his fingers.

"That's a splendid offer, Lyle, but I'll pass. I wouldn't want to chance losing you."

Cade sighed loudly as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. He seemed to be doing some kind of nervous dance. He seemed incredibly indecisive, a curiosity to Lyle. He had assumed Cade had planned all sorts of scenarios for killing him, and surprisingly this one didn't fit.

"Now, should I kill Samarah first and put her out of her misery? I know it sucks to be in the kind of pain she's in. It sucks to have The Centre chasing after you, too. It would end her whole damned existence if I killed her now."

"Why don't you let Samarah comment on her existence when she's conscious?"

"Because I'm annoyed by her talking! Besides, the added bonus would be your self-loathing at not being able to save her."

Cade smiled sadistically as he brought Lyle's own gun to his hand from its place on the floor. He switched guns and pointed Lyle's gun at Samarah.

"How ironic that she would be killed by your bullet. I'm thinking murder/suicide for the headlines. Man kills woman after torrid love affair, then ends his own life out of guilt and love. It's got a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Lyle remained calmed, but he was ready to shield Samarah if need be. This rivalry between him and Cade was just that. Between the two of them. He wouldn't let Samarah get caught in the cross fire any more than she already was. Lyle eyed Cade, looking for any opening to reclaim a gun and kill Cade. He saw it just before Cade pulled the trigger. It was in his eyes. Something flashed in them and Lyle went for it. He tackled Cade to the ground, pushing the gun away from Samarah. Cade struggled with him as he fell backwards, but Lyle remained on top of him. Lyle smashed his fist into Cade's face hard enough to draw blood from his nose. Lyle was using his weak hand, without his right hand being able to form a fist due to the broken fingers. He could feel his throat closing in and he knew it was Cade's doing. Lyle pushed his four-finger hand into Cade's face, trying to stop his concentration. Lyle gasped for air as he pushed harder and harder on the face. Lyle was finally weak enough that he was thrown back by Cade's telekinetic power. He gasped for air, since Cade's concentration had been focused on throwing him back instead of strangling him. Cade rushed him while clutching one gun he had left. He pointed it, but Lyle rolled out of the way before Cade fired at him. Cade had the other gun fly back into his hand, but Lyle had slipped up behind him. Cade turned while he cocked the guns, but Lyle kicked him to the floor.

"Son of a-" Lyle kicked him viciously in the side before stomping on one of Cade's hands. Cade cried out, but brought his other hand up to fire at Lyle again. Lyle dropped to the floor and grabbed a hold of Cade's head.

"Thought you'd get away with hurting Samarah and coming after me. You're not nearly as intelligent as The Centre gave you credit for."

With that, Lyle snapped the man's neck. Cade's head dropped to the floor, strangely unconnected to his body. Lyle took the moment to watch his dead body, a flash of satisfaction running through him. Then, he sprang into action. He had to get out of there before anyone found them. The gunshots may cause some kind of problem with the other guests. The usual don't ask, don't tell policy may be broken. Lyle knelt down and lifted Samarah into his arms, ignoring the pain in his hand. He carried her out of the room and headed for his car just barely before Miss Parker and Broots rounded the corner.

Miss Parker stopped cautiously in front of the open door to the room they assumed Cade was in. The smell of blood wafted into the outside as a breeze blew by. Miss Parker glanced back at Broots. "You should stay out here. In case they run this way."

"Right. In case they come this way."

Broots shifted nervously outside as he scanned the perimeter for anyone watching them. Oddly enough, no one had even popped their heads out at the sound of gunshots. These people must lead lives much like his to not be surprised at gunshots and dead people. He watched Miss Parker walk into the room slowly, her gun drawn. He also heard her gasp.

"You can come in, Broots."

Broots wasn't sure he wanted to go in the room. He did, anyway. The first thing he saw was blood. There was so much blood. On the walls. On the floor. On the furniture. He resisted the urge to show Miss Parker the contents of his earlier lunch.

"I think Lyle found Cade."

Broots wasn't sure what Miss Parker was talking about. He continued to look around the room and he saw it, then. The body. The face was disfigured. The nose was broken. And his neck hung loosely to the side, the neck obviously broken. Cade's blue eyes were wide and glazed, staring up at the ceiling. Blood covered his body, too, most of it dried, but some fresh. Broots had the feeling that most of that blood was Samarah's, but he tried not to dwell on the fact. He forced himself to look away from the horror and back at Miss Parker. Her face was grim, but not completely shocked. Broots realized then that Miss Parker had known what Lyle would do. And she thought this guy deserved everything he got. Maybe he did. Broots didn't want to be the judge of it.

"I wonder what happened."

"I don't know. I don't know if we'll find out, either. Lyle may deny ever being here."

"Or he may tell this story proudly, Miss Parker. Lyle might be pretty proud of his work here."

"It's possible. Speaking of Lyle being gone, we should leave before cops get here. Someone has to have called them. And we don't want to be here when they see this. We better go back to The Centre. Call Sydney. Tell him it's over."
Broots nodded dutifully, trying his best to ignore the body and blood in the room.

"What about Jarod?"

"He'll figure it out."

"You're not going to try to catch him? We know where he is."

"No, we don't know where he is. We didn't work with Jarod, Broots. Am I right?"

Broots took a moment to process what she was saying. Then, he nodded.

"You're right. It was just the three of us. Looking for another lost pretender."

Miss Parker nodded before turning on her heel and strode out the room. Broots pulled out his cell phone and glanced back at the body one more time. He shuddered subconsciously and followed Miss Parker to the black car.