From the Heart

sweat. He wiped neither away. “I always swore I wouldn’t gamble anymore. But I needed to get even. You know what they do to you when you can’t get even.” He shuddered.
    “There are people who can help you, Ed. Why don’t we go outside. I know some people.”
    “Help?” Morrow sighed on the word. Thorpe didn’t like the sound of it. “No help now, T.C. I crossed the line.” He looked up and stared into Thorpe’s eyes. “A man should know what’s going to happen when he crosses the line.” He raised the gun again, and Thorpe felt his heart stop. “You make sure,” Morrow sobbed, “I get my airtime.” Before Thorpe could move, Morrow had turned the gun on himself.
     
    One shot. Just one. Liv felt her legs buckle, saw the granite-faced building fade. Someone gripped her arm as she swayed.
    “Liv, come on. You’d better sit down.” It was Bob’s voice in her ear, his hand on her arm.
    “No.” She shook him off. She wasn’t going to faint. She wasn’t going to give in. Fiercely, she began to push her way through the crowd again. She was going to be standing up when he came through the doors. When he came through them, she would be there for him.
    Don’t let him be hurt. Oh, God, don’t let him be . . . The fear was rising in her throat. No hysterics, she warned herself as she pushed a print reporter and two cameramen out of her way. Soon he’ll be striding across the street. We’ve got a whole lifetime to start together. Today. Risks? We’ll take hundreds of risks. Together, damn you, Thorpe. Together. She shoved her way clear.
    Then she saw him. Alive, whole, walking toward her. She was running, past the barricades, away from the crowd.
    “Oh, damn you, Thorpe. Damn you!” Weeping, she clung to him. The more she shuddered, the more she cursed him, the tighter he held her.
    Suddenly, she was laughing. It was, after all, a beautiful day. Taking his hair in her hands, Liv pulled his head back to see his face. “You bastard, you’re going to beat me on the air with this, aren’t you? Oh, Thorpe !” She pressed her mouth to his and tightened her hold. Neither of them took any note of the cameras whirling and clicking around them.
    He drew her away and the grin was back, though she could see traces of horror in his eyes from whatever had happened inside. “Do you love me?” he demanded.
    “Yes, damn you. Yes.”
    When she tried to pull him back to her, he held her off, lifting a brow. “Going to marry me?”
    “The minute we get a license. We’re not going to waste any time.”
    Briefly, his mouth touched hers. They linked arms. “By the way, Carmichael,” he said, as they strolled away from the building, “you owe me two hundred dollars.”