In His Service

stripped: Virginia's POV

I ripped my gaze away from Luc's tortured stare. I knew he felt responsible for tonight's shooting, or at least for me being there and being put in harms way. But truthfully there was no way he could have known that a random stranger would shoot up the club on the night he decided to take me there. 

Unless it wasn't a random stranger. 

It just didn't add up. There was literally no way. 

But if it was possible... then the person responsible for tonight was actually... me. 

My stomach plummeted and I swayed, grabbing the back of the sofa for support as the room faded at the edges. Within seconds Austin was at my side, lowering me to the cushions and propping my feet up on a pillow. Jake jogged to the kitchen, returning with a bottle of water and an ice pack, as Derek knelt by my head and brushed a hair off my forehead, tucking it behind my ear. 

I noticed as Luc dropped into the low-backed, black leather armchair by the fireplace and slumped forward with his head in his hands. He had to have been feeling so much guilt, and the very real possibility was that I could be to blame instead. 

"I have to say something," I said, my voice coming out weaker than I expected. I swallowed my apprehension and sat up, sending the other three guys a grateful smile to let them all know I was okay. 

I took a deep breath, my hands shaking in front of me. What if my brain was just playing tricks on me? What if what I saw was completely imagined? These men who I had come to respect, to care about, would see me differently if I was somehow mentally deranged because of fear or something. 

"This is going to sound crazy, but I thought I recognized the shooter at the club." 

The silence that followed was suffocating, so I spilled out the rest before I completely lost my nerve. 

"I thought it was a guy I used to hang out with, but I realize now maybe the guy just looked familiar so my brain kind of superimposed this guy's picture on the shooter's body or something. But if you know what this guy looks like then maybe you can use that description to help the police find the shooter." 

"Name." Austin's voice startled me and I looked to where he sat at the end of the couch, watching me carefully, his expression full of concern, but also complete and utter confidence. His eyes hitched up to mine and he cocked an eyebrow, waiting on my response.  

"Kyle Harley." Austin started typing into his phone immediately as I spoke.

"How did you meet?" 

"Highschool."

"Most recent contact?"

"I haven't seen him since college."

"Nature of your relationship?"

"Umm..." I hesitated, nervously glancing around at my four bosses, all of whom I had shared intimate moments with. It just seemed weird talking about an ex fuck buddy to them, especially one who may or may not be the club shooter. 

"Did you date him?"

"Not exactly." 

"Ginny--" Austin began, looking exasperated, like I was intentionally withholding information about Kyle. 

"We were fuck buddies, okay?" I snapped, crossing my arms. 

Austin at least had the decency to look sheepish. 

As I spoke about Kyle, I could see his face through the dimly lit club as the glass window shattered around me from the gunshot. An icy chill ran up my spine as I saw him, and I knew in my gut he was the shooter. It still just didn't make sense.