"He found me," she whispered fearfully. She didn't mean to say it out loud, but as scared as she felt she did not care who heard her.

"Who found you?" Alan questioned. He wanted to know. Whoever it was, if he got the chance, was going to kill her right there in front of him. Plus, he might injure a dozen more.

Gina opened her mouth to speak but didn't get the chance to answer. The sounds of gunshots and shattering glass interrupted the peaceful atmosphere of the diner. A choir of screams followed. Gina jumped from her chair, covering her head with her arms. Instinctively, Alan sprang from his chair and tackled her, landing on top of her on the floor. The gesture surprised her, and when they landed, it felt as if she had been punched in the stomach.

Alan rolled off her immediately. He looked around. Everyone in the restaurant was staring at them. The other patrons were down on the floor as well. He turned his attention to Gina as she started coughing and he helped her sit up. They were only inches apart. He stared at her blankly.

"Forgive me. Are you okay?" he asked with concern in his voice. He hadn't meant to knock her so forcefully to the floor. He knew it had to hurt, but she would have gotten shot standing up as she did. It was not very smart on her part.

"I-I'm fine." She clung to his shirt for a moment just to have something to hold on to, to catch her breath, and prevent herself from falling back on the floor. "Forgive you for what?" Gina asked incredulously. "Saving my life?"

He smiled and shrugged. "I guess so." In this town, he was used to getting accused of trying to hurt people. He figured she would not be any different.

George, who had ducked and covered along with the rest of the diner's customers, crawled over to Alan and Gina. He laid his hand on Alan's arm and Alan turned sharply in George's direction.

"Was the shot meant for you you, sir?"

Alan sighed. "George, how many times have I told you not to call me 'sir'? It's Alan or Mr. Collins. And no, the shot was meant for this young lady." He turned to Gina. "Are you sure you're alright?"

She had finally let go of him and was holding her stomach with one hand and rubbing her arm with the other her face full of shock. She stopped when she realized his eyes were on her again.

"I'm fine," she lied.

Gina didn't want to tell him the truth. When he tackled her, it felt like her whole body had been set on fire. Her muscles were tired and achy from walking for so long and Jack had left bruises on her the size of Texas. He was always careful to make them in places no one would see but him. He assaulted her stomach, which she was too modest to display, and her upper arms. She had always worn long sleeves because he kept it so cold in the house.

"Okay," he said. "It looked like it might have twinged a bit."

"No. I'm fine."

"Good. Glad to hear it."

Customers from the diner slowly got up and a few of them fled the scene once they thought it was safe. Gina started to get up as well, but Alan grabbed her arm.

"Not yet," he said firmly.

Gina gulped. He had an iron grip. Seeing the fear in her eyes, he let go instantly. This young woman was troubled. He could tell someone had been very cruel to her.

"Why?" she asked, relieved he had let go of her arm.

"I don't think he's finished."

"You don't know."

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