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She set the mug down and opened the door, walking into the driving rain. Lifting the heavy chair, she set it upright and then moved the other chairs closer to the house.
Fritz barked incessantly, and she tried to quiet him, but he persisted, standing at the top of the stairs.
“If you want to pee, you’re going to do it by yourself,” she said. The dog continued to bark, staring down at the beach. “What the hell?”
Already soaked to the skin, she stared over the edge of the railing. Pushing her hair from her face, she squinted, unsure of what she was seeing. A body. A man was lying at the bottom of her stairs.
“Oh, shit. What do I do now?”
Nate had been very clear. Don’t speak to anyone, don’t let anyone come into her home, and for goodness’ sake, don’t approach anyone you don’t know.
“I’m probably going to regret this. Come on, Fritz. Let’s help the poor bastard.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Already soaked to the skin, Harlow saw no reason to put on a raincoat now. An umbrella would be torn to shreds. Fritz scampered down the steps with ease, sniffing the body, nudging the man with his nose. He didn’t appear to be armed, but then again, he could be hiding something beneath his body.
She decided to take a more cautious approach. Carefully taking one step at a time so as not to slip, she called out.
“Hello? Are you alright? Do I need to call someone?” She wasn’t sure what she expected. It made her very uncomfortable. The man was wearing black pants and a black t-shirt, but it appeared his feet were bare. He was tall with dark hair, almost black.
A few steps from the bottom, she knew.
“Nate? Oh, my God! Nate!” She kneeled next to him, rolling him to his back. He let out a loud groan, and she stopped, realizing when she moved him blood squirted from his back.
“Nate, you’re bleeding. I need you to help me. I can’t lift you by myself.” She tried forcing him to a seated position, but he only moaned louder. “Nate. Get up! Get up right now, or I’m calling the police.”
That seemed to motivate him. He rolled to his knees, leaning on the steps in front of him. Standing with shaky legs, he pushed to his feet and gripped the handrail.
“Hold on to my shoulder,” she said. He draped an arm over her shoulders, and she realized just how big and heavy he was. The winds seemed to take that moment to unleash all hell’s fury on them. Ironically, it helped to lift them up the stairs. With the wind at their backs and rain pelting them, biting through the thin fabric of their t-shirts.
“Just a little further, Nate. Come on, you can do it.”
“I can do it,” he muttered, nodding at his feet.
Fritz reached the door first, barking like a madman. Harlow pushed the sliding glass door open and helped Nate inside, lying him face down on the sofa. She quickly closed the door, locked it, and then ran to the bathroom, grabbing towels and first aid supplies.
Stripping off her own t-shirt, she pulled on clean sweats and a warm zip-up hoodie. Back in the living room, she found him lying face down on the floor.
“Oh, God. Nate? Nate, are you alright?”
“Getting the couch wet. Floor is good,” he mumbled.
She just shook her head and began cutting his clothing off. When she saw the bullet wound on his back, she knew she was out of her league. It was red and raw, a strange liquid mixed with the blood oozing from the wound.
“Nate. You’re shot.”
“I know,” he huffed.
“Nate, I don’t know what to do.”
“You have to get the bullet out. It’s easy. You can do it.”
“Easy? Are you out of your mind? I can’t do that! Please, Nate, please let me call the paramedics. Maybe the police. Someone. Anyone!”
“Phone,” he mumbled.
She felt his pockets, not finding a phone, then handed him her own. His hands were shaking from both pain and cold, but he refused to let her dial the number. When it began ringing, he shoved it to her.
