I nod and shift off the seat to lean over and hit the button, wincing at the pain searing through every part of my body with the movement.
Warm blood seeps from the wound in my side, soaking through Connor’s shirt, and I press my hand against it, trying to stem the flow and to prevent him from seeing it.
A fog envelops my brain, dizziness making me nauseous as I settle back onto the seat and take the gun into my hand.
Seemingly satisfied, Connor gives me one long last look before he stalks toward town hall, cautiously eases open the door, and slips inside.
I hold my breath, waiting, scanning all of downtown McBride Mountain from where I sit in the back seat of Killian’s truck, expecting a threat to appear at any moment, the same way that man just appeared in the cabin.
The same terror that seized me then does again, and I have to force myself to take a breath so I don’t pass out. Gritting my teeth through the pain, I shift myself more upright so I can see better, so I can watch for the McBrides…
One minute passes.
Another.
Several more…
Fuck, I can’t just sit here.
I don’t care what Connor said. If Tony and the McBrides are in trouble, I have to try to do what I can to help them, especially since I’m the one who brought all of this down on all of us.
Gritting my teeth, I push myself up until I’m leaning between the front seat, still clutching the gun in one hand. Sweat slickens my skin with the effort, that warm blood on my side seeping out again.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The pain is excruciating.
But I have to ignore it.
For Connor. For what he did for me.
With every last ounce of strength I have, I manage to unlock the doors and slip out. The moment my boots hit the ground, my legs almost give out, the pain and weakness in them is so unexpected, and I cling to the door to keep myself upright with one hand as I struggle to keep hold of the gun in the other.
My head spins violently and my stomach roils, mixing with that taste of blood in my mouth, and I heave onto the street beside town square. The act only makes the pain worse, but I force myself to draw in a heavy breath, trying to find the strength to keep moving, the strength not to collapse right here on the fucking blacktop.
I somehow manage to get myself upright, still clinging to the door, and I scan town square again.
Still too quiet.
Too still.
It’s all wrong.
Wrong in a way that matches what I felt up on the mountain, when I knew something was wrong, which only confirms for me that I have to help, that I have to keep moving.
I stagger through town square, my eyes drifting over the bodies of the two strangers without so much as an ounce of regret for their deaths.
These fuckers deserved what came to them, just like their friend up at the cabin did. I only wish I had gotten to see what Connor and Killian did to him.
By the time I reach town hall, my body trembles violently from the exertion, my blood rushing in my ears as it also trickles from several cuts. I place a hand against the brick to hold myself upright until I get to the door.
I listen carefully, trying to hear what’s going on inside, but only silence greets me.
This is wrong.
Town hall is always bustling.
People moving in and out for court, to talk to Tony or someone else in the sheriff’s department offices, to file something with the clerks.
