The safe’s door bounced open and I grabbed for Dylan’s gun. I knew it was there, and I knew it was usually loaded. All I had to do was click the magazine into place and pray the gunman didn’t hear. Slipping the safety off, I tried to get out from under Kade’s arms.
“Don’t know anybody by the name of Samantha Matthews,” Dylan’s voice said. Oh, God, Dylan shut the hell up. I could see him at the other end of the bar, both hands raised, face probably looking into the end of the barrel of a gun, his fingers trembling.
“I’ll just get her to come out then,” the voice laughed dryly, as two more flashes of light and sound exploded from his gun.
Behind the bar, a mere ten feet from me, Dylan dropped instantly.
Jumping up, gun raised, I braced myself for impact. “Drop the gun,” I said. From the corner of my eye, I saw George, one of the regulars standing next to Bobby, with his gun already raised right at the shooter’s head.
I adjusted the aim of my gun a few inches to the right until it lined up flawlessly to the shooters forehead, knowing perfectly well George was about to pull his trigger. Another shot ripped through the bar and the shooter collapsed. Shit, it was Deputy George and Deputy Bobby, as a matter of fact, all four regulars were cops. The four men moved in sync, two surrounding the shooter’s body, the other two going out to see who else was around.
Bree screamed Dylan’s name, then mine. It was crushing to hear the primal sound of her heart breaking as she crawled to get to him. I recognized how scared and freaked she truly was. It was the same way when they told her about Michael. She looked at me then as she looked at me the day they found his body. Please help me. I didn’t realize it until then that she’d fallen in love with Dylan. I nodded to her with watery eyes.
Kade reached Dylan first and slumped down mumbling next to him. Bree slid next to us hiccupping and sobbing. “He’s still breathing. Please help him. I can’t do this again. I can’t. I can’t live through another Michael, Sam.” Her tears spilled, cascading waterfalls of sorrow. Desperation.
“Bree, get the car and bring me my bag. Olaes is there. Get Olaes. Bring it all,” I said.
Kade was breathing heavily next to me, whispering, “Who the fuck is Elias? Is he a doctor?”
Dylan’s eyes looked into mine; fear and surprise. “What? What’s going…what the fu…” His eyes scanned his body, registering the blood. “Oh, God…oh, God…I don’t want to die.” His eyes shifted to Kade. “Kade, I…I don’t want to die.” Sweat started falling from his brow.
Tearing his shirt off, I scanned the wounds. Hunger and anger bubbled in my chest. Two bullets split through his skin. Slipping my hands beneath his back, I searched, no exit wound on his back, one ‘through and through’ on his right arm. I was not worried about his arm, because it wasn’t a life-threatening hit, but the one in his torso could be. It could be. The scent of fear and metal stung at my nose and the guttural sob that ripped from Kade’s throat was like a steel vise that wrenched around my chest, squeezing so hard I gasped for breath. I had to stop them, to calm them before their panic spread like frost against glass, freezing and paralyzing them both. I had to stop them from making everything worse. My hand shot out to Kade. I laid my bloodied fingers against his cheek and his eyes snapped to mine. I’ve done this before. “It feels like you can’t breathe, but you can. It feels like you’ll never get through this, but you will.” My own breathing regulated and I offered him an encouraging smile. “Kade,” I said evenly. I slammed my hands down hard on both of Dylan’s wounds, applying as mush pressure as I could. “Dylan is doing great. Let’s keep him talking and thinking about other things and we’re going to get him some help. Trust me.”
I could hear the men in the background of the bar. They had a cruiser and ambulance on the way. However, the hospital was at least a twenty-minute drive from there.
Dylan wasn’t going to make that. My throat thickened as visions of granite headstones stood like soldiers in a field of dead pressed up against the sky. I pressed the weight of my body against his punctures, smiling…calmly…always show them calmness…always be the comforting voice in the middle of madness.
Bree was next to me in a flash of panting sobs and cold winds, holding my aid bag. She had the zipper open and a torn Olaes pack in her hand before I could even ask her.
“What…What…What is that?” Dylan was asking.
“This is a tourniquet that’s going to save your life, sweetheart. This is called an Olaes Modular Bandage.” Calm him. Talk to him. “It’s named after a very brave soldier.”
“I…I…don’t want to…to die,” Dylan pleaded. His words sank in my belly, chilling my bones.
“Not on my watch you won’t,” I answered, wrapping and pressing, sealing and praying. It wasn’t even a battlefield. This was not his fault. We should have never stayed here. These people were innocent. Innocent and bleeding, spilling and splattering crimson sunsets across the floor.
Because of me.
Chapter 10
Someone shot the jukebox.
With a gun.
A gun.
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I squeezed my eyes shut tight. This isn’t happening again. This can’t be happening AGAIN! Violent anger crashed in waves over me so powerfully that I couldn’t see straight. I grabbed for Lainey blindly. I needed her behind me, away from the danger. I wasn’t letting anyone hurt what was mine.
Mine?
That’s what I thought, wasn’t it? It was what I told her, wasn’t it? When we got out of the closet, I grabbed her and called her mine like a Neanderthal.
I’d have to revisit this moment after the shitstorm passes. I needed to hide Lainey under me and protect her from being hit. But, she was crawling away. Fuck, she was CRAWLING AWAY FROM ME! Crawling towards the gunman’s voice, towards Dylan standing with his hands raised at the far end of the bar, just crawling, slinking right into the danger on hands and knees. Panic gurgled, boiled frantically in the back of my throat. Then she stopped at the safe as I yanked on her leg, trying to place her body under mine. Shield her.
The gunman was talking again and my gag reflex started playing with me…2 exits. 5 windows. 4 customers. 1 waitress. 1 brother. 1 Lainey. 1 shooter. How many guns…Deputies at tables…The walls were closing in around me. I have to get Lainey and Dylan out of here alive.
Two more gunshots rang out, slicing through the coiled fear of the room, and then my brother fell. Dylan just dropped to the ground, collapsing as if he’d fainted.
What the…?
Confusion muddled my brain. Did he faint? He fainted, right? Please, God, just let him have fainted, let him just be a pussy and have fainted. I crawled on my hands and knees for my brother. I tried to drag Lainey with me, yanked on her pant leg hard, but she fucking stood up. I felt the sob in my throat before it escaped my lips. I did not want to watch her die. I needed to get that gun away from her and kill whoever it was on the other side of the bar, before they shot Lainey, but she moved so quickly, she was out of my reach in a second.