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Hassan stilled, his hand on the door handle. “That…doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he muttered. “Bad things happen to kids in this life. Sebastian needs to be kept safe, no matter the cost.”
Even Skylar sobered, the two of us fully aware of what Hassan was talking about. “I’m sorry,” Skylar said, his voice hollow.
“It doesn’t matter,” Hassan said, opening the door. “Let’s get going–”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence.
The world…fuck, I couldn’t even process it.
A massive boom rattled my bones, immediately followed by a deafening ringing. The shockwave launched us backward, hot debris rained down around us, and Hassan's car was engulfed in an inferno.
Fucking hell.
Someone had rigged Hassan’s car to blow.
We hadn’t been paying attention…and now we were all fucked.
I rolled onto my side, coughing in the billowing smoke from the wreckage of the car. My head felt like it was full of shrapnel, my whole body instantly aching.
I had to see if they were okay.
"Hassan!" Skylar’s voice sounded strange, tinny, strangled. He was already on his feet, though, tossing debris aside like it weighed nothing, his hands bleeding. I wrestled against the disorientation, focusing my attention on the burning car. Terror squeezed my heart like a vice as I took in the blazing scene.
Hassan couldn't be in there, could he? He hadn’t gotten in the car yet, I didn’t think, but my memories were fuzzy. We’d been talking about Sebastian, Isabella, Vito…what happened to Hassan…
He didn’t deserve this.
He didn’t deserve any of it.
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he was hurt, or even worse, dead.
My stomach roiled, but I somehow managed to get to my feet, racing toward Skylar. There were people watching in horror, but their faces were a blur; the only thing that mattered was Hassan.
"Skylar!" I shouted, joining him in his frantic efforts to reach the car. It was a mess, charred metal still hot and glowing red in places, a fire burning in what was once Hassan’s lambo. If he was in there, he was dead. That was it. There was no way around it–
But someone was coughing from the other side of the car, and I froze when I saw Hassan staggering out from the other side of the vehicle. He was coated in dust and his clothes were tattered, but it didn’t look like he’d been burned, just…bloodied. Very bloody–his face was covered in it, liquid red pouring down from a gash in his forehead.
He wasn’t okay.
The force of the blast could kill just as effectively as the fire, and Hassan had taken the brunt of it since his door was the only one open.
"Oh, fuck," Skylar breathed but didn’t pause, barreling over to help Hassan. He looped an arm around Hassan's waist, steadying him as Hassan coughed violently. My stomach turned again when I realized there was blood in his hand–not from a cut or scrape, but from his lungs.
Fuck, fuck…
"Can you walk?" Skylar asked almost calmly, although I could see the shake in his hands. The casual bravado seemed to reassure Hassan, who nodded weakly, leaning heavily on Skylar.
"No need to make such a fuss," Hassan rasped out between coughs. "I'm alright."
"Bullshit. You can't even stand straight," I retorted, not bothering to hide the worry in my voice as I joined Skylar in supporting Hassan's weight. His eyes were glazed over, but he offered me a weak smile underneath the soot on his face.
"Yeah, well...you should see the other guy," he joked, but his laugh dissolved into a hacking cough that left him gasping for breath.
"We need to get him to Zane," Skylar said, his usual sharp-tongued humor absent as he studied Hassan's state. "Now."
Not only that, but the cops would be here any second. I could already here the sirens, see people racing toward us to help. They thought they’d just seen a horrible accident.
But this was a hit, plain and simple.
