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No, no, no, no, no.

“Kota!” What the fuck did she do?

“Not again,” Leader says.

As Kota’s legs give out, I latch on to the front of her hoodie, helping as best I can to ease her down to the floor.

Beside me, a figure moves as fast as a blur as my dad finally goes on the offensive.

The docile, concerned-father-of-a-delinquent act was such a waste of time. He was more worried about losing his cash cow than his own son, and now he’s lost both.

The man that taught me everything I know about fighting rams his shoulder into Enzo, knocking the gun out of his hold and sending it flying, then elbows Scout in the face.

Since it’s only those two remaining, I’m assuming the leader knew shit was going south and pulled a Houdini to save his own skin.

Usually, I’d have full confidence in my dad taking on two dumbasses on his own, but without the use of both hands… He’s gonna need my help.

So is Kota. Her shoulder is bleeding from both sides, and if she’s coughing up blood, the bullet must’ve hit her lung.

Could she die? Here? Now?

Glancing at Sera, I’m not surprised to find her still in the fetal position, just as useless as she always fucking is when it comes to Kota.

“Sit up and help your daughter!” I bark at her.

“I’m hot. I’m really hot,” the love of my life cries.

Hot? What does that mean? Anything?

“I’m sorry.” Jesus fucking Christ, what do I do?

I should know what to do. I’m always treating wounds on the fly.

Think, motherfucker!

Um, okay. She’s breathing.

For now.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I need to control the bleeding. Pressure.

How? My hands are literally fucking tied!

Ripping my shirt from the neckline down, I get a long enough strip of fabric to use on both the entry and exit points. At least I think it’s an exit point. I don’t know where the hell the bullet went if it didn’t hit me. Doing this earns a scream from Kota that slices me in two.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.”

The second Sera is upright, I press her hand over the wounds.

“Don’t let go,” I tell her. “You have to stop the blood flow.”

And I have to make sure that gun doesn’t end up in the wrong hands.

Numbly getting to my feet, I promise Kota, “I’ll be right back.”

Her wild eyes follow me. “Stay.”