Kendra didn’t waste any time once she reached the bottom of the mountain road. She turned the truck toward Bardsville and headed to the wildlife clinic rather than going straight home. She needed to be around animals and her staff members, not sitting at home by herself fretting over things that couldn’t be changed.
The decision to shoot had been easy.
Kill or be killed.
Protecting Flint had been her main focus so she hadn’t hesitated when it came time to pull the trigger. Unfortunately, the aftermath was proving to be a little more difficult to deal with. She found it ironic how the movies never accurately portrayed the horrifying thud of bullets tearing through flesh and bone or the gaping wounds the bullets left behind. Or how a person gasped for breath when their lungs filled with blood, causing them to technically drown in their own fluids.
Kendra knew it would be a long time before she could forget those things.
She was known around town as a savior of animals, and now she wondered if she would also be known as a killer of people. Oh sure, Flint had tried to make her feel better about things, trying to reassure her that the bullets from her gun hadn’t killed anyone. But how did he know for certain? How would she ever know for sure that she hadn’t murdered another human being? Would the doubts in her mind circle around and around until they eventually drove her crazy?
The MC would destroy all of the evidence. Of that much she was certain. Jesse and the crew were already loading the dead bodies into the back of their truck by the time she had left the scene. She hated to think about what would happen next. Would they bury the bodies? Burn them? Would the men’s family members ever know what happened? Or would the women who loved them wait at home forever for their man to return?
She wished she knew exactly where all of her shots had landed. But in the end, she wondered if it would really make a difference. The final result would remain the same. There had been a gun battle between two rival motorcycle clubs, and four men died.
Rather than hiding in the truck and waiting for it all to be over, she had instead chosen to be a willing participant. It had been her choice and hers alone to grab the gun. Nobody forced her to pull the trigger. Not once, but several times.
On the other hand, Flint was safe and alive. At least for now. She had protected her man when he needed her to. Of course he wouldn’t have asked her to do it or even wanted her to. But Flint would live to see another sunrise because of her. And that’s all that really mattered when it came right down to it.
She always did what needed to be done, and this time was no different than any other.
She took a deep breath.
Whatever happened, there would be no regrets.