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Wilson crumbled to the metal corrugated flooring at his feet.
Right next to Gordon's girl.
The little girl Gordon should have better protected.
"Hallie, come on, kiddo. Let’s get you up. Get you taken care of." Sol leaned down. Lifted her as best he could. Just out of the way for a moment. He slipped, tripped a bit on the mess in the floor now. Blood, and stuff pulled out of the drawers—Madison had done that, searching for supplies to help Hope earlier. He looked for what he needed.
There were damned zip ties there. They wouldn’t hold by themselves, not a guy Wilson’s size. But Sol could double them up. They’d work for a while, he thought.
He had Wilson's hands secured to the back handle now. Sol's eyes met Wilson's. "You try to go out that door now, and it'll be too easy of an end for you. And I won't fucking stop. I'll drag you the five miles back into town. In fact, I’ll drive even faster. I’ll laugh when I hear every damned pothole you hit. You got me?"
He'd do it, too.
Sol wanted this son-of-a-bitch to hurt for what he had done. What he had been a part of. And for what he had been planning to do to innocent girls.
It was time Wilson felt the hurt now. Time Wilson knew what it was like to be trapped and afraid and defenseless—at the mercy of a man with real power over him now.
Sol turned to the woman just lying there. She'd left her jacket behind. With the Naylor boy. All she wore was that thin little piece of pale silk. A camisole or something, he thought they were called. Delicate and feminine and probably designed to just drive her man crazy with wanting her. He could see thin bra straps, too. He could see why Foster wanted her so much. Beautiful girl.
No.
She was a woman now. With the world ahead of her.
But now the white silk was saturated with blood. Clung to her skin, showed her curves. Hallie wasn't a little girl, now. No denying that. A woman—with her entire life ahead of her now. And it was time he got her back to her man. Somehow. "Hallie, girl, how bad are you hurt?"
She didn't answer. But one shaky hand went to her head. She moaned.
It told him all he needed to know.
Hospital first. He’d get her there. And deal with Wilson after.
87
Madison slipped her arm around Hope’s waist and hefted the thinner woman to her feet. Hope was practically listless against her. And Madison wasn’t stupid. Hope had been battered hard, choked hard, and combined with the bullet wound—they were on borrowed time. Even if it was a relatively minor wound, blood loss could finish what the bullet had started.
Terror for Hope and for Haldyn had her almost ready to puke.
“Come on, Hope. The only way to get help for Haldyn is to keep walking,” Madison led Hope up the embankment. Hope just kept walking with her.
Madison knew she was hurting, but Hope was tough.
Madison just prayed Hope was tough enough.
They just kept going.
“Why did they do it?” Hope finally asked. Madison wished she had some water. Anything to help make this easier on the other woman. “I don’t really understand what tonight was about, Mads. Still a bit in the dark here on parts of it.”
“I’m not sure. Costovia and Wilson—I think they were part of what happened to us…before. The choir hall shooting. With what Major Crimes has been trying to find all this time. Even before that shooting.”
And Hope had gotten caught up in the cross fire. Innocent collateral.
No. Madison wasn’t going to let Hope pay for what had happened before.
“Come on. We’re going to keep going.” Madison knew where they were, in general. They were still a good four miles southwest of Finley Creek. There was no way Hope was going to be able to walk four miles, bleeding from a GSW and battered the way she was. Hope just wasn’t. And Madison wasn’t strong enough to carry her. “We have to keep going. We can do this.”
“Damn. My chest hurts, Mads. Feel like my heart is going to jump right out of this brand-new hole in my chest. Hate it when it runs like that. It happens sometimes.” Hope was wobbling. Dragging. And her words had slurred. Madison knew enough about the human body to know Hope was hurt. Really hurt. And walking wasn’t making it much better.
She tightened her hold again. She wasn’t going to let Hope fall.
