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“He’s okay,” Luke says, but concern for his brother has his gaze darting from Sal to Seth, then back to her.
That seems to still Sal, and she goes limp, collapsing to her knees on the ground. Luke goes down with her, immediately pulling her into his arms. She twists into him, burying her face against Luke’s chest. Her hands grip the front of his shirt as if hanging on for dear life.
For just a moment, Luke closes his eyes, weak with relief, the feel of Sal finally back in his arms like a goddamn grace.
At the sound of commotion, Luke looks back in time to see Seth and Jace standing over Chris, who’s unconscious on the grass. Luke’s jaw clenches, murderous rage roiling through him. He aches to go over there and beat the shit out of the guy, but he ain’t got it in him. Not when he’s got Sal.
Slowly, Luke pulls back, trying to get a good look at her, trying to see what’s been done to her. Gently, he palms her shoulders, running his hands over the lump on her temple, the blood streaming down the side of her face. “Sal, let me look at you. Are you hurt?”
“No, no, no, no.” The raw words come out like a chant, like a promise she makes to herself. Her eyes are closed, her arms wrapped around herself, her breath a tremor that shakes her tense body.
Seth appears, kneeling beside them, his face pale as he surveys Sal. He swears. “She’s bleedin’, Luke.”
At the sound of Seth’s low rumble, Sal’s eyes flash open.
“Seth ...” Twisting in Luke’s arms, she reaches for Seth’s face, blinking like he’s a mirage, and his hand trembles, curling around hers to grip it tight.
“I’m okay,” he murmurs, placing a palm on the back of her dark head. “Let Luke look at you.”
Sal nods. She starts shaking again, shivering like it’s winter.
Gently, Luke unfurls her arm. He winces. The cut on her arm’s deep. She’ll need stitches. And then he remembers what Chris was really aiming for, and he almost can’t get air.
“Here,” Seth says, shrugging out of his flannel overshirt. He grins, keeping his voice low and soothing. “You keep takin’ the shirt off my back, I’m gonna be naked pretty damn soon.”
Sal smiles faintly.
Carefully, Luke gathers Sal to him, cradling her in his arms as Seth wraps his shirt around her forearm to stop the bleeding. She flinches and squeezes her eyes shut, the only sound out of her a low moan.
Seth glances sharply at Luke, worry burning bright in his eyes.
It’s clear Sal’s fading, letting go of whatever strength she was fiercely holding on to, her head sliding to one side as she lies limp and still against Luke’s chest. Her eyes stare at the sky, blank, empty. Her face is pale, too pale, her body a vicious tremble.
Luke’s chest strains with worry, but he stays calm, keeping Sal in his arms, keeping her still and warm.
A flare of red and blue lights, the bleat of sirens.
“Cops are here,” Jace announces, glancing over at the two police cruisers zipping in, followed by an ambulance.
Seth rolls his eyes. “Right in the nick of time.”
Luke looks up at his best friend. “Nice job with the airhorn.”
Jace grins. “Knew I came along for some reason.” He lowers his voice. “I dumped the shotgun down the well. Come back for it later.”
Luke nods his silent thanks to Jace. The last thing he needs is to get his dumb ass arrested. Especially now.
Glancing down at Sal, Luke grazes a finger against her cheek. “Darlin’, an ambulance is here,” he says softly. “We’re gonna get you checked out, okay?”
Sal’s eyes open. Her breathing hitches, turning ragged. “No.”
Jace and Seth exchange uncertain glances.
“Sal, you’re hurt. You need—”
“No, Luke, you don’t understand.” She grips his arm with surprising strength. “There’s a dog. In the house. He—he protected me—he could be hurt—”
She breaks into a broken sob. Tears track down her dusty cheeks.
