Shane had watched Lawrence raise the pistol and aim it. Somewhere, deep inside, where he was no longer feeling any pain, Shane had realized that it was over.
He had been doing everything to make sure Lawrence stayed in the room. Shane remembered how he had mocked Lawrence, trying to keep the man enraged and determined to watch Shane die. He had found his voice and kept twisting the knife, even though he had desperately wanted to give in to the pain that had seared his body. But Shane had told himself that he needed to keep Lawrence there.
Lawrence Alamain was not going to escape, even if Shane had no real power to stop him.
Shane's tactic had worked. Lawrence had refused to leave until he saw the toxin finish its job. Only it never did.
His mind slowly replayed what had happened. Lawrence had just been about to pull the trigger when there was shouting. Shane recalled how Lawrence had spun and he remembered hearing shots.
Lawrence had crumpled to the ground.
Shane heard the shout again. This time, he recognized the voice. Steve.
But wait. . . . If Steve had shouted, why don't I hear or see him?
He tried to dismiss the thought, but it was there. Shane could only see Lawrence's body, but he knew Steve must have been the one who fired that shot. That meant Steve must be by the door, which was out of Shane's view.
Shane barely had any strength left. Fighting through the pain to keep Lawrence off balance had left him completely drained. But somewhere, he found the strength to force his unresponsive muscles to fire. Agonizingly slowly, he shifted on the ground so he could see the other side of the room.
Is that Kayla? And Bo?
That made no sense. How can they be here? But they were. It wasKayla and Bo.
Then Shane saw that they were both crouched next to another person. Shane could not see the person's face, but he could see the telltale leather jacket. And he could see red blood pooling on the concrete floor.
Steve!
He had no idea if he managed to say the name aloud, but he heard it echo in his head. He silently screamed, This can't be happening. Not after everything. . . .
Not after everything they had gone through.
Shane's mind flooded with memories of the past few months. Egypt and pulling a bedraggled Steve out of a tiny closet even as gunshots and explosions echoed outside. Steve's mocking quips in Cyprus turned into fury as he charged Shane in the entryway of Donovan Manor. And then they were back in Salem and Shane was thanking Steve for saving Kim from a speeding car. He watched Steve on a video camera as the man stumbled around Lawrence Alamain's estate then argued with him in an ISA interrogation room, in a hallway during Jeannie's birthday party, and then in the living room of the Salem house, which ended with Shane punching Steve. Then Shane was on the receiving end of a punch from Steve.
It all kept replaying in Shane's mind.
Then they had reached was an understanding of sorts. Shane saw Steve on the bank of the lake after the arrest and remembered how Shane had decided there was no more room for anger. They fought side by side on the docks. Then they ran through a dark night toward the shattered pieces of Kim's car and through a forest where branches cut at his face, but barely registered amid the fear that ran through him. Steve raced to a motionless Andrew. And then they were at Shane's house and he could see Steve's anxious terror as he worried about Kayla, only for them to share Jeannie's first steps.
We've been through so much, Shane thought.
There was so much more. The bar where they shook down the man who knew where Cal was. Bob. The name of the man oddly popped into Shane's head. And then Steve was kneeling on the ground, Cal holding a gun over him.
No, Shane thought. It's just like that. Only the roles reversed this time.
"Steve," Shane managed to call out, finally finding the strength. "Dammit, Steve, don't you bloody give up. You hear me. Don't you dare give up."