She agreed, knowing that the man was doing this for her safety. Then she sent a text to Jackson, letting him know Reggie had shown up at her door.
“The ambulance and police are on the way, Reggie. They’ll take you to the hospital.”
“Wait!” He grabbed her hand. “Come with me.”
She couldn’t leave Gus. She knew that. But this child needed her. “Listen, I can’t come right away, but I will come as soon as I can find someone to watch my aunt.”
Gus’s door swung open. Her gaze took in the boy in her living room. “Mia, why is there a child bleeding in my living room?”
Mia gasped and spun to scan him for wounds. Blood seeped from his leg. She ran to the kitchen and got several dish towels. By the time she’d returned, he’d passed out on the couch. She pressed the towels to his leg. He didn’t respond.
Gus sank into her recliner, her face pale.
“I’m sorry about the mess.” Mia placed towels around him to catch the blood.
Gus pointed at Reggie. “The only thing that matters right now is that child. Furniture can be replaced.”
Mia left him briefly to fling the door open for when help showed up, then she resumed trying to stem the bleeding. Within fifteen minutes, the paramedics arrived, followed shortly by the police.
Reggie didn’t wake.
Mia backed against the wall. The paramedics tramped in, boots thudding on the floor in the entryway. One dropped down next to Reggie and reached his hand to the teenager’s neck. “His pulse is strong.” He cut away the pant leg, exposing the wound. “Gunshot wound. He’s lost a lot of blood.”
The second paramedic placed a blood pressure cuff on Reggie’s arm. “Blood pressure is low but not critical.”
Mia’s gaze slid to Gus. Her aunt watched the proceedings, eyes widened, mouth moving in silent prayer.
An officer approached Mia. She didn’t recognize him. He flipped open a notebook. “How did he end up here?”
“He knocked on my door. When I asked him why he was here—he’s never come to my house before—he said he didn’t know where else to go. He said his friend, Dylan, is being kept somewhere in a cage.”
The cop straightened, his eyes tightening. “In a cage? Did he say anything else?”
“No. He passed out before we could talk more.”
The second paramedic glanced up at them. “He’s bruised, but his leg wound is his only obvious external injury. We need to transport. With these bruises, he needs to be checked for internal bleeding.”
The cop looked at the youth. Pity flickered over his face. “I’ll have to wait until the hospital to interview him.”
“Better wait until tomorrow morning,” the first paramedic said. “I doubt he’ll be awake before then.”
“Right. He’ll need to have security on him. I’ll call it in.” The officer walked away, speaking into his radio.
The paramedics lifted Reggie onto a stretcher, covered him with a blanket, and strapped him in. Mia followed them to the door and watched as they lifted him into the waiting ambulance. The second paramedic joined him in the back, while the other one went to the front and got in.
As soon as they left, she called Jackson. It no longer mattered if he was in bed. He’d want to know.
He answered almost immediately. “Mia, are you all right?”
“I thought you’d be asleep. Did you not see my text?”
“Text? Hold on…What! Reggie is there?”
“Not anymore. He’s on the way to the hospital.” She told him what had happened. “The cops are going tomorrow to question him.”
“Visiting hours start at eight. I’ll open the place up,” Jackson said, sounding eager. “He might know where Dylan is.”
“Jackson, he wanted me to come too.”
