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The click of the gas pump tells me I now have sufficient fuel in my car and less than sufficient funds in my bank account. Replacing the nozzle and doing up my fuel cap, I side-eye my gas station neighbor to see him on the phone. His gaze is cold and his lips thin as he listens to whoever is on the other line.
Another black SUV pulls in beside the current luxury car next to me and three more men, all in suits, step out. My eyes dart back and forth between my first visitor and the three other men. The younger-looking one with blond hair steps forward and inserts the nozzle filling up the tall driver’s gas tank. They exchange some words—Is that another language?
Pulling my sweatshirt sleeves back up to free my hands, I keep my head down and make my way to my driver’s side door. A tingling on the back of my neck has my gaze meeting the eyes of two of the men, and they watch as I open the door and shuffle in. I reach over to put my receipt in my bag and fumble around one-handed for a piece of gum.
Screeching sounds echo along the station’s gas pumps and I still. Three additional large SUVs barrel into the gas station and the three men flock to the taller man.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Gunfire erupts around me. A scream races to the front of my mouth, but I smack my hand there while ducking my head as far beneath my steering wheel as possible. Doors open and shut, more gunfire piercing the silent night that was on my mind minutes ago.
All around me, men are yelling, and I squeeze my eyes tight, silently praying that I make it out alive. I shift my body close enough to reach around to grab my phone. My trembling hands clutch it, and I dial 911 as squealing tires fade out of the area.
So much for my pepper spray.
* * *
“Ma’am,can you please tell me, is anyone hurt?” the female dispatcher asks calmly.
“I don’t know,” I whisper, “I’m still in my car.” Scooting up, I peek out and over the driver’s side window and gasp.
“Ma’am? Are you still with me?”
“Yes—yes.” I take in the carnage across from me. All three men are down and unresponsive, blood seeping from bullet holes riddled throughout their bodies. A flash in my peripheral captures my attention. The first driver is leaning against his vehicle, one hand pressed to his abdomen.
“One man is still alive—he’s shot!” I urge the woman on the phone. I scramble for the door handle, falling out of the car, concrete biting into my knees. Glancing around, all is eerily quiet, and I rush over to the tall man leaning against the car.
“Sir, the paramedics are on the—”
His ocean-deep eyes snap up to mine, stealing my breath before he crumples to the ground.
Chapter2
Kate
“Keep this wrapped. The sprain will heal in one to three weeks.” The ER doctor smiles at me while she finishes some paperwork. “Any other questions?” She glances up and tilts her head to the side.
I didn’t want to come here, but when the guy in the suit collapsed to the ground, I tried to ease his fall and he crushed my wrist beneath him. When the police arrived with the EMTs, they took him on a stretcher, while I stayed to give a statement. During my interview, two more black vehicles rolled in, asking to speak with the chief of police. I flinched as the policeman touched my shoulder, bringing my attention back to him.
“You should head to the hospital to get your hand looked at, miss. We’ll be in touch with any follow-up questions.” He gave me a kind smile that was interrupted by wailing. The ambulance siren let out an ear-splitting shrill that snapped me out of my trance. With the pain in my wrist and the worry I may not be able to work if it’s broken, I decided to get it checked out.
“Umm, do you happen to know if the guy they brought in from the shooting made it?” I bite my lip, chewing the inside of my cheek as I second-guess my decision to ask that question.
I want to know if at leastsomeonemade it. The three other men with him were pronounced dead on the scene, and the police don’t have much to go on. To be honest, I’m surprised I wasn’t more shaken up than I was, but those eyes—that’s all I could see. Azure eyes rolled back and disappeared as the man fell.
“I don’t. I believe he just got out of surgery.” The woman sighs. “I’ll have the nurse deliver your paperwork in a minute.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, reaching for my phone. I texted my mom to let her know what happened, but I never heard back. It is late at this point, and she is probably already asleep. It’s not as if she waits up for me when I come to visit.
I scroll through my contacts, debating on whether I should text Derek or not. We aren’t anything serious. Only two people that ran in the same circles during high school who both ended up in the city afterward.
I type out a message to him, rereading it once, then twice, before deleting it.
Voices flutter all around my curtain-wrapped hospital bed. A sterile smell wafts in with every whoosh of air from those walking by. Memories push at the back of my mind, but I stomp them out.
The nurse returns to deliver my informational papers, and I gather my stuff from the chair next to the bed. Leaving the makeshift room, I head toward the elevator and push the down button. My thoughts whirl, landing on the driver I can’t seem to shake. The doors open, and I’m about to walk in when the crisp click of dress shoes echoes down the hallway, headed away from me. My eyes dart left then right, and I take a step back, allowing the elevator doors to close without me. Changing direction, I make my way down the hall, following the men until they disappear. I slow down and press my body against the wall to peek around the corner. Two men are talking with several nurses and the detective from the scene.
“… I don’t care. Move him to a private wing now.” One of the men motions his hand down another hall. “The chief will be calling you.” At that, the two men let themselves into a hospital room, which I can only assume is the mystery man.
