few more rounds at the shooters.
Michelle hustled Alex into the car and was flying in behind me when I saw one of the crew raise his head and put a bead on us. I lined him up, but just as I pulled the trigger, I saw the man fire and heard a sharp
A stab of dread ripped through me as I flicked my head sideways and caught sight of Michelle staggering into the rear seat after Alex.
I also spotted a small, dark patch at the base of her chest.
“Meesh?!”
She didn’t reply and just disappeared into the car.
I cursed inwardly, knowing what had just happened, knowing it wasn’t good, not in that spot, not where you’ve got lungs and a heart and all kinds of other soft, crucial bits all packed in tight next to each other, but I couldn’t do anything about it right now, couldn’t do anything other than get them the hell out of there. I jumped in, punched the ignition key in, and threw the car into reverse, twisting around to look over my shoulder as I blasted the car out of its parking spot.
I couldn’t manage more than a quick glance at Michelle, but the sight of her sent an ice pick through my gut. Her eyes were wild with fear and anguish, and her face had burst into sweat.
“Jesus, Meesh,” I rasped.
She glanced down at her wound, then looked up and just held my gaze, her face flooded with confusion. She tried to say something, and her mouth just couldn’t form the words at first, then she said, “I’m—fuck, Sean, I’m hit.”
Behind her, through the windshield, I could see the two shooters still coming at us. One of them, the bastard who’d shot her, was moving with more difficulty and I saw that he had a dark patch on his shoulder. I figured that was where my bullet went, though it had obviously got there a split second too late.
I wasn’t about to give him a second chance.
“Hang on,” I told Meesh, keeping my foot down, flooring the pedal, hard, like I was trying to ram it through the foot well, sending the Ford rocketing backward and straight into the shooters’ path.
One of them managed to avoid it by taking a flying leap over the hood of a parked car, but the guy I really wanted wasn’t as light-footed. I just plowed into him and pushed him along before crushing him against the side of another car, obliterating the lower half of his body in a sickening, wet crunch that sounded damn good to me. Then I threw the car back into gear and we flew out of the hotel’s lot, hanging a squealing right before tearing down the seafront, my head snapping back and forth as my eyes searched for any kind of reassurance about Michelle and the bullet that had found her.
8
“Meesh, stay with me, okay? Just hang in there,” I yelled, breathless, all kinds of expletives coming out thick and fast inside my head as I threw quick glances behind me to see how she was while I pulled out my phone.
As I hit the green button twice to redial the last called number, I caught a glimpse of her looking up at me, and it wasn’t good. Her eyes were half-closed, her mouth was twisted with pain, and the sheen of sweat on her face had turned into a full-on drench. Her chest was now soaked in blood, and she had her right arm around Alex, squeezing him tight against her. Her eyes widened and hooked mine, and she started to say something, but it was cut short as she coughed and blood spurted out of her mouth.
My gorge shot up into my neck.
“Hang in there, baby,” I repeated as Villaverde picked up the call.
“Reilly?”
“I’m with Michelle, she’s been shot, we need help,” I told him. “I’m in the car with her and her kid and—” I scanned the area around us, looking for markers to give him. “I’m on the seafront, heading west, away from the hotel.”
“You being pursued?”
I glanced in the mirror, but couldn’t see any sign of the goon squad.
“No. But I need to get her to a hospital, fast.”
I heard Villaverde call out to one of his men, then he said, “Okay, you must be on Harbor Drive, which means the nearest hospital to you is . . .” He paused, thinking about it.
“Come on,” I hollered, “she’s bleeding out”—and just then, something caught my eye, in the sky, to my left. An airliner, coming in to land.
My pulse tripped. “Forget the hospital. I’m by the airport.” My eyes scanned the road ahead and, sure enough, I spotted a big overhead sign for the airport, announcing an exit for Terminal Two. “Get them to send an ambulance to meet me outside Terminal Two. I’m in a blue Ford sedan.”
“Hang on.”
I heard him yell out the order to get onto the airport’s EMS dispatcher, then Villaverde came back.
“What about the shooters?”
“I got one of them in the parking lot, some of him might still be there when your people get there, but the others’ll be long gone.”
“All right, I’ll keep you posted. And good luck with her.”
I chucked the phone onto the seat next to me and crunched the pedal. As we blew past some slower vehicles, I adjusted the mirror and locked it onto Michelle’s face.
“Almost there, Meesh, you hear me?” I urged her, “We’re almost there.”
Her eyes were struggling to stay open.
Fear swamped my heart as I guided the Ford past a blur of cars before veering off the six-lane road and throwing the car onto the winding ramp that led to the terminal. Less than a minute later, we were pulling up to the curb by a startled traffic cop.
I leapt out of the car and threw a quick glance up and down the ramp, looking for the EMS van. There was no sign of it.
“There’s an ambulance on its way,” I shouted to the cop as I flung open the rear door to get to Michelle. “See if you can find out where it is. We’ve got an emergency here.”
I leaned in, and the sight that greeted me froze me stiff. Michelle wasn’t moving. Her breathing was shallow and when it did come, it wasn’t much more than a feeble wheeze. There was a messy streak of blood and saliva running down from the side of her mouth, and the car seat was drenched.
Softly, I reached out and pulled up her shirt, looking for the wound. There was a dark crevasse just under her left breast, and thick blood was seeping out of it. I put my hand on it and applied some pressure, trying to stem the bleeding, anticipating the pain I’d be causing Michelle, and sure enough, she flinched hard as my hand pressed harder. I moved my other hand up to her face, giving her pale, clammy cheek a caress, unsure about whether or not she could even feel it. As I did, my eyes drifted off her face and down to find Alex, who was tucked in under her arm, his face down, his eyes shut tight. He was shivering wildly.
“Hey,” I said, softly. I reached over, then hesitated and pulled my hand back before it settled on the boy’s head. “It’s gonna be okay,” I told him in that annoying, desperate way that we sprout out these platitudes. “She’s gonna be fine.”
Alex didn’t look up. Instead, he remained still for a moment, still coiled up tight and trembling, then he gave me a minuscule nod before going back to his shell-like seclusion.
I felt my heart stall as Michelle’s warm blood kept seeping through my fingers—then I heard a faint siren growing in the distance.
“They’re here, Meesh, you hear that? The ambulance is here.”
Her eyelids flickered half open, allowing her eyes to connect with mine momentarily. Her face scrunched up as she tried to say something, but she couldn’t manage it and just coughed up some more blood.
I leaned in closer. “Don’t talk, sweetie. Just hang in there, we’ll have you in the ambulance in no time.”
