Page 89 of Sheltering You

What in the…? He saw a small hole in his sweatshirt—and a dark stain that had to be blood.

That sting he’d felt had been a…bullet?

“What?” Jasmine was barely going the speed limit. “Do we need a hospital? What happened?”

“Can you pick up the pace?”

“What is a pace?” she asked. “Where is⁠—?”

“Go faster!” he snapped. “I just shot two people. I’d rather not get arrested.”

“Oh, sorry.” She pressed down on the gas.

“You were hit!” Rabie’s voice was too loud and too close.

Now that he’d pointed it out, holy smokes, it smarted.

“It’s nothing.” He managed to grind out the words. “Crawl in the back, bud.”

Rabie did, barely missing using Derrick’s wound as a foothold.

When he was buckled in, Derrick lifted his sweatshirt and checked. The bullet had grazed him. Blood dripped from a gash on his side a couple inches below his armpit—and beside his heart.

They’d need a first-aid kit, but it could’ve been so much worse. He bunched his sweatshirt and pressed it against the wound, holding it in place with his upper arm. With his free hand, he grabbed one of the phones and dialed Michael.

When his brother answered, his voice was too loud over the car’s speaker. “Everything okay?”

“They found us.” Derrick turned down the volume. “I was inside buying hats. I managed to…” He could see it, the men falling. Not moving. Don’t think about it. “I shot them. Two men at a gas station just west of Wheeling, West Virginia.”

“Are you all right?”

“I was… I’m fine.” Nausea worked its way up his throat.

“He was shot.” Jasmine’s voice was weirdly calm.

“What!” Unlike Michael, whose shout had Derrick cringing.

“I’m fine. It grazed me. I just…I don’t know what we should do. Go to the police, or⁠—”

“No. No, absolutely not.” Michael took a breath. “Where are you now?”

Jasmine was angling off the highway.

“We’re on I-70 about ten miles west of Wheeling, just stopping to breathe. Jasmine’s okay.” He looked at her. “Right? You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you too badly?”

“I am unhurt.”

Derrick twisted to Rabie, wincing again at the shocking sting in his side. “And you? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

The boy shook his head.

But Derrick barely noticed, his focus pulled to headlights.

A black SUV angled down the off-ramp after them.

He faced forward again. “There’s someone behind us.”

Jasmine checked the mirror. “How? They were down? How could they have⁠—?”