I'll be damned if I let Lindsey die.
Slipping in the main entrance, I move silently around the perimeter and hide my body behind a row of lockers. My rifle gripped tightly in my hands, I see the fourth gunman holding a pistol a few feet away from Lindsey, who's backed against the lockers, hands in the air.
"Who do you think you are? You're a woman! Rodeo is a men's sport! You can't be here, you don't deserve to be here!" He yells, his words slurring slightly.
I move silently around the edge of the lockers, putting me a few feet to his right and slightly behind him, just out of sight. "I'm going to shoot you so you can never interfere with us men again." He says, cocking his gun.
I catch sight of my two guys moving around behind Lindsey. I have to get the shooter. As soon as I see his finger move to the trigger, I launch myself forward, tackling his body with my own. A gunshot rings out, but I don't look to see where it went or who shot. I wrestle the man, keeping his hand with the gun in it away from me and my people.
After a couple of punches, my entire body weight on top of him, I tear the pistol from his hands and toss it across the locker room floor, leaving him defenseless. He gives up, but I don't let my guard down.
"Hate to break it to you, but you just got beaten by a woman," I growl into his ear, pulling his hands behind him and cuffing them. I signal to my guys to take him away, radio to the rest of the SWAT teams that the last threat is neutralized and turn to see Lindsey.
She's on the ground, her eyes wide and unfocused, breathing heavily. She still looks the same. After five years, she still has that beautiful blonde hair and hazel eyes. I can see a few more scars and bruises littering her body, as she's clad in only a tank top and jean shorts. I pull my helmet off and let my hair fall around my shoulders, hoping she'll recognize me.
I place my bulky rifle on the bench nearby and move to her side. I crouch in front of her, not saying anything until she looks at me.
Her eyes are scared, but they flash with recognition in a second. "Olivia?" Her voice is quiet, unsure.
"Hi, Lindsey." I breathe, faintly smiling, my old profiler kicking in as I try to figure out how she's feeling to see me. "Are you hurt?" I offer her a hand.
She takes it, I help her easily to her feet, supporting her as she moves to sit on the bench, unsteady on her feet. "No, I'm okay."
I move my rifle away from her and sit next to her, not saying anything.
"I thought you were training to be in the FBI. Yet, here you are, saving my life in a SWAT uniform." Lindsay observes finally.
"It's a really, really long story. I graduated top of my class at the FBI but because of...um, personal reasons, I joined LAPD SWAT instead."
"Were personal reasons why you said you never wanted to see me again too?" She bites.
I knew this was coming. "Yes. I didn't mean it, Lindsey. Things were really bad that month five years ago. I'm so sorry."
"Wow," she sits up straight, looking at me. "Five years."
"Yeah."
"Did you...did you meet someone else?" She swallows nervously.
"No. Nothing with anyone came close to what I felt with you, even if we were only together three times. I wasn't ready for any type of relationship for years after that."
"Oh," she whispers. "Me neither." Something deep inside me sparks when I hear those words. She's still single. "Thank you."
"For what?"

YOU ARE READING
The Academy
General FictionWhen my parents had a little girl, and she grew up playing sports and graduating high school with a 4.4 GPA, they were expecting her to go to an Ivy League. Become a doctor, lawyer, or even at least an engineer. The last thing they were expecting wa...