He pointed the gun, deciding the first shot should come just at her stomach where she was sure to feel it plenty before she bled to death. She was jingling her keys around her finger, not expecting a thing. He fired. At first, her face only showed surprise and confusion…her hand felt the place where the bullet went in just below the stomach and came back dripping with sticky crimson blood. Then the fear and pain began to register and show through her expressional face. She didn't move, but only stood there, still somewhat in shock for almost a minute before her small body collapse to the ground. A pool of blood formed around her. He looked up to his second target who, conveniently enough for his purposes, was standing right at the window. He took aim for the second time that night.

Something, although he had no idea at what, kept yelling in Logan's head, urging him to go and check on Veronica.

She is just getting something out of the car. No big deal, she'll be back any a minute. You already had Dick babysit her, do you really want to make her think that you're having her watched again? She's been gone for fifteen minutes. Shouldn't she be back by now? I wonder if I could see her from the window.

A silent shot was fired from outside just as Logan reached the window. He saw a blonde girl near the center of the parking lot fall to the pavement. Oh God, Veronica! He turned to make for the parking lot when he felt a painful surge graze against his shoulder. He ignored the pain and dialed 911 as he ran to the elevator.

5th floor… 4th floor… 3rd floor… This is taking forever!

Suddenly, the lights went out and the elevator stopped. Logan tried to pry the doors open but they wouldn't budge. The world could not have picked a worse time for this to happen. Someone finally picked up at the 911 dispatch.

"911. What is your emergency?"

"My girl's been shot!"

"Sir, I need you to calm down. What is your location?"

Logan quickly told them the name of the hotel and where she was in the parking lot. "Please, hurry! She's pregnant!"

A maintenance worker showed up on the other side of the elevator door soon after Logan had hung up with 911. "Sorry about the inconvenience, I'll have everyone out in a minute."

A minute turned into ten and Logan grew even more terrified. He heard sirens come. Finally, the doors sprang open and he ran right past the worker through the hall, down the stairs, and outside into the parking lot in the direction that he had watched the girl he loved get shot and crumple to the pavement. He was just barely too late. The ambulance was driving away with its sirens blaring, but there were a few bystanders still around.

"Did you see anything?" Logan asked a man frantically.

"Yeah, a blonde girl. Got shot pretty bad right below the stomach, it looked like. Poor thing, she was bleeding like crazy. Hope she lives."

Logan turned and sprinted toward his car.

Veronica came out of the motel room after talking to the FBI agent that he didn't trust at all. Logan had pounded him just five minutes before because he thought he had kidnapped her and had seen him dragging her into a motel room.

Veronica smiled shyly at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She stared at the floor and then back at him. "Uh huh."

He thought she was going to leave… she was acting funny. But instead, she suddenly just kissed him. When she started to walk away he pulled her arm to get her to turn around and had the best two-and-a-half-minute first kiss of his life. He wrapped his arms around her waist and lower back and felt her hands at his shoulders and neck. He had to lean down some, he remembered, because she was still short even though she was standing on her tip toes. He didn't want it to stop, but it did, and way too soon.

She walked away, looking back at him every chance she got. He wanted her to come back. He was unbelievably confused, but he wanted her to stay with him. He wanted to keep her. He watched her drive away.

Ten Minutes Earlier

I knew it! Veronica pulled a small tracking device from underneath the car below the passenger door. I'm being followed. She heard sirens approach and went to see what was going on. There was a blonde girl that looked to be around fifteen years old laying in the middle of the parking lot on blood covered pavement. The EMTs began to work on her. It didn't take much for Veronica to put together that that girl was mistaken for her. She felt guilty, but made sure to keep herself out of sight. She wanted to make sure the shooter didn't find out that he had gotten the wrong girl and that the one he really wanted dead was standing right there in the parking lot.

She walked back to Logan's car and heard him scream out her name. She came out from the other side of the car to see him. He didn't even notice her but kept rushing to open the driver's door. She grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face her.

"Logan?"

His whole body froze as soon as he heard her voice, half believing that he was just imagining the sound. But as soon as she pulled him around, he knew.

"Thank God!" His first reaction was to just gather her to him and hug her so close it almost hurt.

"Logan? Logan! Need… air." Veronica got out in her half-sarcastic, half-serious voice. He loosened his grip but only used the space to smoother her again with kisses instead of letting her have any air. She didn't mind. There are certain things he has a lot of talent in and the whole kissing thing… definitely one of them.

Finally, they broke apart.

"We should get our things and get out of here. I found a tracker under your car."

He nodded, trying to get an understanding of what was going on. They quickly got back inside the hotel room and grabbed their things. Veronica secured the tracking device beneath a tour bus headed for Minnesota before they got back into Logan's Xterra and headed for Texas. About fifteen minutes into the car ride, Veronica noticed Logan's bleeding shoulder. She had seen the broken window in their room and it wasn't hard to put two and two together. They stopped at a drug store so she could get some antiseptic and a bandage.

They drove for another two hours to ensure that they were far enough away from the shooter, but Veronica still wished that Logan didn't have such a recognizable car just in case.

When they got into their new hotel room, she sat on the top of the bathroom counter as she cleaned the graze. He kept silent though she knew it must hurt. Somehow the familiarity of their positions came back to both of them from junior year. Making out in the girls' bathroom. Of course, back then, neither one of them could have possibly guessed that they would have ended up here for it.

"So, you want to tell me why I spent ten minutes stuck in an elevator thinking my girlfriend was dying?" Logan asked.

She looked down at the floor and then hopped down and pulled out the envelope, handing it over to him. He opened it up and flipped through several pictures. They depicted the man Veronica had seen in the picture dated from 1993 in Larette's house. She had assumed him to be Larette's husband. The pictures were quite graphic and the man was obviously dead.

The accompanying note said that it wasn't smart to tick him off and that "…you are gonna get it worse than him. I'll see to that, you little bitch." Of course, it wasn't signed.

"Veronica, don't you think we should just leave it alone? You could have gotten killed tonight. Why is this so important?"

"I'm not leaving it alone, Logan. Whoever shot that girl, he thought it was me. It's completely personal now and I must see to it that he is destroyed."

"Doesn't it bother you at all that you're pregnant and you're putting our baby's life in danger?" By now, Logan's voice had risen very close to a yell.

There was a pause and uncomfortable silence hung between them for a long time.

"I know," she whispered under her breath. Something in his words had obviously gotten to her and she bowed her head, ashamed. "I'll go home now."

Logan felt guilty. "Hey," he reached out for her but she backed away. They didn't speak to each other again that night and the next morning, he took her home in silence.