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“Let’s go get him, then.” He takes my hand. “Can you stand up for me?”
“Just go help him!”
“No,” he snarls. “I’m not leaving you behind. I’ll never do that. Either we move together, or we don’t move.”
Loki wags his tail in my face as though he’s trying to speed me up. With an effort, I climb to my feet, holding onto Fletcher’s forearm. He helps me up, looping his arm around my waist and holding the gun with his other hand. Distantly, I can hear dogs barking.
“Are they okay?” I gasp.
“They will be,” Fletcher snarls. “About thirty of them in there. All the bastards holding them captive are tied up, but God knows for how long. We need to call in backup now.”
“The cops?” I ask as we run through the forest together, Loki running at our feet.
“Yeah,” he replies, “but we won’t be here when they arrive.”
We run back to the car. Charles Malone is on the hood of the vehicle, his shirt off and in his hand. He’s pressing it against his side. Fletcher guides me to the passenger seat and sits me down. I ignore the small pieces of glass pushing against my behind. Loki leaps up into my lap and curls into a small ball. Instinctively, I smooth my hands over him. I can feel the anxiety radiating from him.
“How bad is it?” Fletcher asks.
“Not… lethal…” Charles wheezes. “But need… hospital.”
“I’ve got a first-aid kit.” Fletcher looks into the woods, teeth gritted. “It would’ve been easier to execute those bastards.”
“Are any dead?” Charles asks.
“One, maybe. I had to. The one who shot you. He was going to kill my…” His what? His woman? “Samantha.”
I hug Loki close to my chest, wishing I’d been more capable when the mayhem went down. I could console myself with the fact that I’ve never been in a situation like this before, but that feels like a weak justification for how I behaved: the screaming, the running, the absolute inability to think, plan, or anything at all. I’m still on the edge, my breath coming fast.
“Samantha,” Fletcher says a few minutes later after patching Charles up. Though he still looks terrible. His face is pale, with blood dripping down it. “You need to drive Charles’ car. Can you do that?”
I sit up and nod.
“But you have to focus,” he says fiercely. “After everything, I can’t lose you. You can’t crash.”
“I can do it,” I say, gritting my teeth. “I promise. I won’t mess up.”
* * *
Loki sits on the passenger seat as Fletcher guides us back to the city. I expect him to drive to a hospital. Instead, he takes us to what looks like a garage from the exterior. I focus on driving, the familiar movements feeling almost alien. When we get inside the garage, there are no cars, no tools, just a big, seemingly empty room. Fletcher leaves the car and gestures for me to follow.
“Come on, boy,” I whisper, feeling numb and distant, as though all this has happened to somebody else. It’s difficult to convince the panic screeching through me that all of this actually happened tome.
Fletcher helps Charles into a door off the side, leading to what appears to be a surgeon’s table.
“Whoa…” Charles doesn’t sound good, his voice raspy. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
“Yeah,” Fletcher snarls. “This is the only way to avoid problems with the cops. Trust me, Charles. You’re a good man. You protected my girlfriend. I’m not going to hurt you.”
When he saysgirlfriend, Loki whines as though he approves. Fletcher looks up at me and smiles tightly. I can read the message in his intense blue eyes.I mean it. You’re the only woman I want. Is that what we are now, officially a couple? Considering everything else, it should be a minor concern, but it feels so freaking significant, soright.
“What about the dogs?” I ask, sitting on one of the small chairs that line the walls.
“Called in from the road, then ditched the cell,” Fletcher says, setting Charles up on the table. “They’ll find the dogs, the zip-tied men, and the body.”
“Is he dead?” I asked. “The man who was shooting me?”
“I’m not sure,” Fletcher replies. “I caught him twice—once in the leg and the other in the shoulder. He may be alive.”
