After the Storm(170)
“Travis,” Donovan said in a soothing tone. “Everything’s okay, son. I need you to put down the gun before you hurt yourself. Can you do that?”
Travis looked down as if only just now realizing he was still holding the gun. Then he dropped it and Donovan’s brothers and teammates scattered, afraid the gun would discharge. When nothing happened, they slowly rose and Donovan cautiously approached Travis.
“What happened, son?” he asked gently.
“I-I s-shot him,” Travis stammered out. “I didn’t mean to, Donovan. Oh my God, I killed him but I didn’t mean to! I just wanted to threaten him. To make him tell me what he’s done with Eve. I didn’t mean to kill him! He jumped at me and we struggled. We were on the floor and he said that he was going to make it look like I’d shot myself. That I had the same mental illness Eve has and that grief-stricken over the death of my mother and the loss of Eve, I killed myself.”
Donovan’s blood ran cold when Travis said “the loss of Eve.” But for now he had to put it aside. He had to fix this and fast.
“Listen to me,” Donovan said in a harsh voice.
Travis jumped at the ferocity in Donovan’s voice, but Donovan needed his full attention.
“You did not shoot your father. You understand? You did not do this. Your father was trying to kill you and we burst in and one of us shot him. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Travis blinked and shook his head. “No. I can’t let you do that. I killed him, Donovan. I killed him.”
“You aren’t understanding,” Garrett said, coming to stand beside Donovan. “We need you to get ahold of yourself. I know you’re upset. I know you’re in shock. But this is important, son. Tell me you understand what I’m saying.”
Slowly Travis nodded.
“Now, it went down exactly like I said,” Donovan said in a gentle tone in an effort to calm Travis. “You had nothing to do with shooting him. You never saw this gun. You didn’t have a gun. You never touched this gun.”
“But my fingerprints,” Travis said helplessly. “The blood.”
Even as he spoke, he glanced sideways to see Skylar wiping down the gun and then handing it to Sam, who holstered it.
“Strip,” Donovan ordered.
As he issued the command, Joe stepped up and thrust a pair of fatigues and a T-shirt toward Donovan.
“Don’t move. Not even an inch. Strip where you stand. We’re going to wipe you down before you put on other clothing. Now hurry. We don’t have much time.”
After they’d taken care of Travis and led him over to the couch to sit before he fell, Donovan sat across from him to ask what he’d been dying to know ever since Travis’s words about the loss of Eve.
His tongue was thick and swollen in his mouth. The words knotted in his throat because he was afraid of what he’d hear. It took every ounce of self-control not to break down and to try to sit there calmly when every part of him was screaming that he’d lost Eve forever.
“What did he mean by the loss of Eve?” Donovan demanded. “Where is she? Did he tell you anything?”
Tears filled Travis’s eyes again, and he stared accusingly up at Donovan. “How could you have done it? How could you betray her that way? She loved you. You said you wanted us all to be a family. But you traded her for us? Do you honestly think Cammie and I could ever be happy knowing we were free because you handed Eve over to that son of a bitch? I trusted you. She trusted you.”
Donovan leaned forward and grasped Travis’s shoulders, frustrated that they couldn’t get to the heart of the matter. Eve. He needed to know about Eve. But he also had to reassure Travis that he’d never betrayed Eve, or Travis would likely be reluctant to hand out any information where his sister was concerned.