Chapter 6：Miranda 6

Last night I was able to pick the gun up and toss it to Elliot. I can touch and hold the gun as if I were still alive myself. After Elliot passed out, I asked Stephen if he could get Elliot inside, he said he could but we had to wait until it was late enough that the only people out to possibly see Elliot floating to the inn would be drunk and would probably think that they were seeing things.

I stayed with him as he slept, he looked so peaceful, then I thought of the pain he was enduring to bring this all to an end. Elliot lost two bullets in that fight last night. That worried me, a day had passed and he still hadn't woke. I watched anxiously as the fourth bullet disappeared from inside the chamber.

Now, he had only two. I heard him groan and his hands went up to his chest and I knew another part of his soul was now dying. I cried, I cried for Elliot. I cried for me. I cried for Marisol and Stephen. I cried for everyone who had crossed paths with John.

"Miranda?" I heard him say and I whipped around as quickly as I could.

"Why Ms. Edwards, that was unexpected," he said as he sat up.

"My apologies, Mr. Benedict, I lost myself in the moment," I said, trying to mask my embarrassment.

"Oh, Ms. Edwards, I am not complaining, Ma'am," he said.

I looked at him and felt the flutter in my gut again. "We should get going if we want to catch Charles alone." I said knowing we were running out of time.

"Alright, Ma'am, after you," he said as he motioned toward the door. I got up and waited for Elliot to grab his gun and clasp it around his waist.

"Charles will be at home. He returned from his trip this morning but before we go anywhere, you should know. You only have two bullets left. You lost a day earlier," I informed him. He grabbed his gun and checked to realize that I was right.

"Damn it, well, I guess I better not miss then," he chuckled, but I wasn't laughing. He realized that I was worried and he put his hands on my arms gently, "I won't miss, I will keep my promise, I will stop him."

"That's not it," I started. "I'm conflicted when it comes to Charley. I want him stopped but I think that he is already paying for what he did to me. Yes, he stabbed me, in our bed, with my kitchen knife, but afterwards," I paused. "Afterwards, he wasn't the same. He hates John. He hates himself. He's ate up with guilt and can't sleep. I just wonder if he is really worthy of death or if we should leave him to slowly kill himself. Death would be a mercy to him. I just..."

"It's alright, Miranda, we will figure it out," he lifted me chin so I was looking into his eyes. I had never noticed the colors that were mixed in his eyes. They were hazel but there were specks of amber, blue, green and gray that made them hazel. The were captivating.

As we looked into each others eyes, he began to move in closer. He was going to kiss me! Do I really want him to kiss me? I asked myself and as I answered my own question I pressed my lips to his. We kissed a moment, reveling in feeling something. We pulled back and looked at each other again. A smile crossed his face as he said, "We will figure it out, alright?"

I nodded my head and he turned to walk out of the door. A few moments later, we were heading up my road, Elliot was on his horse and I rode in front of him, side saddled.

When we reached my old house, I paused as I looked at the place I had called home for nearly four years. It was the place where I had died. A tear came to my eye and Elliot stopped the horse. He got down and turned around to me, holding his hand out to help me down. I took it and told him, "You really shouldn't do that, you realize only you can see me. People may think you're crazy." I laughed as if that really mattered.

"Yeah, and I will be dead by tomorrow," he laughed, "Then I would like nothing more than to take you out somewhere, or whatever ghosts do." He smiled and I nodded my head in agreement.

"For now, however, you have a mission," I said with a smile and pointed to the house.

"You're right, let's go," he said and he led the way up to the door.

"Hang on," I said and walked through the door. I looked around and saw Charley in his seat in front of the fire. I saw the bourbon bottle in his hand and knew, he was drunk again. I turned around and focused to unlock the door. I put my hand through the door and motioned for Elliot to come in.

Elliot cracked the door open slowly and walked in. I pointed to the sitting room, at Charley's chair. Elliot pulled his gun from the holster and pointed it at Charles as he walked around the chair to look at him. I circled from the other way and realized he was passed out. "Now what?" Elliot whispered.

I turned and saw one my favorite vases, a vase that had been a wedding gift, one Charles and I had cherished. I let my anger well up and I threw it to the floor, letting it shatter. Charles came to life at the commotion and saw Elliot standing there pointing his gun at him.

"Bout time...I'm ready...go on...kill me...please." At that, he broke down and started crying. I almost felt pity for him, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

Elliot looked at me then back at Charles. When Elliot hesitated to pull the trigger, Charles hit the floor. He was on his knees begging Elliot to end his misery. Elliot looked over to me, "What do you want to do, Miranda?"

At the mention of my name, Charles burst out into tears, called my name again and put his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I am weak. I let John play me like a marionette. I let him talk me into killing you to appease him. Please, forgive me. Please, end this, please."

Elliot looked at me and I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know how I felt. Yeah, I felt sorry for him, but he also brought it on himself, he killed me. I thought about it for a second then knelt down, got close to his ear and whispered as I focused on my words being heard. "I forgive you," he heard me because he began crying all over again.

I stood and looked at Elliott who was still holding the gun at Charles. I signaled that it was up to him and walked away. I got outside and my heart ached, I may have forgave him but I still hated him, yet I felt pity for him. I was a ball of emotions and when I heard Elliot come out of the door without a gunshot, I knew that Elliot hadn't done it because he knew it as well. He knew there are things in this world that are worse than death.