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Ian is holding his arm, wincing. “Fucking bullet grazed my fucking arm.”
My blood still roaring, I study his arm. “You’ll live.”
Turning to where Sarah stands, her eyes glassy with shock, I tuck my gun in my belt and pull her from her protesting brother. “Are you okay?”
Her voice is a harsh whisper, “Are they dead?”
I shake my head. “Not likely. Let me take you home. The police will be arriving any time now.”
We just make it to the edge of the room which would take us through to the main slaughterhouse area when I hear a shuffle, and I turn around.
The side of Seth’s face is a mess, bloodied, and his nose broken. He wears a furious expression on his face, and as he stands up, he raises his gun.
Just then, the door behind him opens, and something slams in the back of his head, making him fall face forward with a loud cry.
A familiar face looks at us, a mop of golden hair and blue eyes with eyebrows that waggle at us.
“Hey, guys. What’d I miss?”
Agatha’s older brother and one of my best friends, Philip, stands in the doorway, an iron baseball bat slung over his shoulder, his trench coat flapping around his ankles.
He grins at us. “Hope you don’t mind. I brought some friends.”
Just then, as if on cue, the sound of the sirens cuts into the air, and the flash of blue and red reflects in the windows.
“Could you be any more dramatic?” Zayn asks, rolling his eyes.
Philip gives him a dazzling smile that broke many hearts. “That’s how I roll.”
Ian groans loudly. “His cheesy lines are hurting me more than this bullet wound. Somebody shoot him.”
Philip ignores him and steps through the unconscious people, to me.
“You must be Sarah,” he introduces himself to my shell-shocked girlfriend.
“I must be,” she murmurs against my chest but gives him a wan smile.
Philip gives me a once-over. “Agatha called me. I was at the airport. Turns out Charlotte isn’t sick; she’s pregnant. Don’t tell her I told you.”
“Congratulations!” comes the echoing sentiment.
Philip grins, proudly. “Thanks. I came straight from the airport. Jim and Tim took her to your place.”
Ian stares at the bat in his hands. “You brought a baseball bat to a gunfight?”
Philip shrugs. “The sports shop at the airport doesn't sell guns. Besides, the boys had already left with Charlotte.”
He takes a deep breath and then looks at me. “You should take your girl home. She’s been through enough shit today.”
He glances at Bryan. “I imagine the police will want to have a word with you as well, but for now, you should slip out with them.”
Bryan looks exhausted, and tucking my girlfriend under my arm, I follow Philip’s advice, trusting him to handle the whole mess.
14
Sarah
Fergus holds my hand throughout the drive home, but we don't exchange a single word.
