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Aspen screams as glass erupts into the roadway down the street.
Jesus Christ. He has a gun.
"Aspen!" I shout, panic clawing at me.
She doesn't say anything. For what feels like an eternity, all I hear is chaos coming down the line, none of the sounds truly discernible. They're just a mishmash of distorted shuffles and muffled thumps and shattering items. I don't hear Aspen at all. I don't hear the motherfucker with the gun, either.
And then, Aspen stumbles through the front door of the shop and immediately begins running down the sidewalk. I don't know if she sees my truck or if it's instinct, but she races toward me, waving her hands over her head as if to get my attention.
I suck in a breath, relief coursing through me in a powerful wave. My gaze shifts past her to the shop, checking to see if the bastard inside follows her. But if he's still in there, he doesn't come running out after her. I slam on the brakes beside her and pop the locks.
She immediately races toward the passenger side and clambers in. She's pale and trembling. Tears streak down her face. I want to drag her into my arms, but I need to get her to safety first. Right now, that's what matters most.
"Hold on," I mutter, throwing the truck in reverse.
I hit the gas and reverse to the next street before straightening out. I head straight for the Sheriff's Office. Aspen sits beside me, breathing hard and shaking.
"Talk to me, baby. Are you hurt?"
"N-no," she whispers, her voice shaking. "He s-shot at me, but he m-missed."
I clench my jaw so hard it pulses. Everything in me demands I get her to safety, go back, and kill the son of a bitch. He tried to fucking shoot her. Jesus Christ. He deserves a slow, painful death for that. But even if I go back, chances are he's long gone by now. I'm guessing he ran as soon as she made it out of the shop.
It takes less than three minutes to make it to the Sheriff's Office. I pull right up to the doors before slamming the truck into park. Aspen's still pale and trembling, tears slipping down her cheeks. I hop out and circle around the truck to her.
"Come on, Dimples," I murmur, gently sliding her out of the truck. She's ice-cold and moving too slow. Is she going into shock? Fuck.
I tip her head back, catching a glimpse of the tears shimmering in her lashes. Even scared out of her mind, she's the prettiest little thing I've ever seen. And I could have lost her before I ever even had her.
"Don't slap me." I lay claim to her mouth in a searing kiss, trying to shock her back into reality. Maybe it's a dick move. I don't know. All I know is that she's too cold, and kissing her last night seemed to illicit a response from her. I figure it's the fastest way to do the same thing now.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to kiss her for me, too. Just because she's here and she's safe, and this has been the longest goddamn morning of my life. From the moment the phone rang until right this second feels like an eternity. Fear isn't something I'm used to feeling. It's not something I come up against often. But I felt it for her. More strongly than I've ever felt it before.
Especially when I heard that gunshot.
She gasps against my lips, her entire body jolting. And then her arms slide up around my neck. Thank God. I hold the kiss for a moment longer before breaking it. I could kiss her forever but now isn't really the time. And this wasn't really about that.
"T-thank you," she whispers after a moment.
"Did you just thank me for kissing you?"
She's definitely not at risk of going into shock now. She rolls her eyes at me. "Ugh, no."
I choke on a laugh, reaching into the back to grab one of my jerseys.
"What are you doing?" She swats at my hands when I try to pull it on over her head.
"You're ice cold, Aspen. We need to warm you up to make sure you don't go into shock."
"Oh." A pretty blush creeps across her cheeks as she takes the jersey, pulling it on over her head.
I watch her intently, trying to gauge how she's feeling. She's still pale and trembling, but she isn't crying now. The tears are already drying on her cheeks. Nash may worry about her, but she's strong as hell.
Fuck my life. Nash. He's going to lose his damn mind when he finds out about this. And it's not like I can't tell him. His sister was nearly shot. That's not something I can keep to myself. It's not something I should keep to myself.
But that's a problem for another day.
"Come on." I place my hand on the small of her back, leading her toward the doors of the Sheriff's Office. "Let's go rally the troops."
