Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2) (37 page)

BOOK: Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2)
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He won

t surrender. They should know that. You

ll have to carry him out in a body bag if you expect him to leave.

I see them carry Jude out the door, and much like Jessa he

s calling my name as he disappears.

I turn my focus to my father, ignoring the men yelling at him to stand down, chewing on a cigarette and laughing in Jude

s direction.

My anger bursts into flame.

I see the gun in my peripheral vision. It

s sitting there right where it fell when I tripped earlier. I grab it and turn, pointing it straight at my father

s chest. The evil spreads from his eyes to his mouth, curving it upward in recognition and pride and then it drips to his chin and lifts it in a dare.


Go ahead, baby doll. Shoot me.

I breathe in and out and notice the men on standby around the garage. They

ve gone silent. At this point it

s a matter of who will make the first move.


I hate you.

This is the moment I

ve waited for

the moment I

ve rehearsed in my mind too many times to count. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out and I feel the ice creep its way down my arms and settle into my hands.

I

m about to do it. I

m about to kill my father. I close my eyes for one more breath, and then open them, my finger barely pressing the trigger before a crunching noise, like shoes on top of hardened candy, startles me.

My father

s eyes widen and his grin grows wicked.

I pause. Dread makes a home in my gut and I refuse to believe the thoughts coursing through my head.

Kevin can

t be here. He can

t. He

s in the van, helping with surveillance.

I study my dad

s face and realize his eyes aren

t on me anymore. I have two choices. Take the shot, or see who he

s looking at with the chance that he may be pulling my leg and waiting for me to get distracted. I glance quickly at one of the men behind my father and notice his eyes trained on something right above my shoulder.

Someone is behind me.

My breath quickens. I move to follow my dad

s gaze.


Stephanie, get down!

Shots ring out and I fall to the cement at the same time I see two things: my dad crashing to the ground and firing off a shot, and that shot landing square in the middle of Kevin

s chest. He falls against the ground, his eyes stunned. Behind me, men have already swarmed my father

s body.

I

m up on my feet in one quick movement and running toward Kevin.

No no no no no no no no no no
……
.


Kevin. Kevin. Ohmigod Kevin please
…”
I

m slapping his cheeks and pressing my hands into the wound on his chest growing red and this can

t be happening. I can

t lose Jude and Kevin in one day. I wrap my arms around him, the blood spilling onto my legs and arms and
ohmigod so much blood

I beg for him to come back but there

s nothing I can do. I hear one of the men behind me say something about time of death and my feet slide out from under me.

My dad is dead.

I don

t have time to process. The freedom I thought I

d feel disappears and is replaced with just an emptiness. I turn around and fall on the ground, my arms still around Kevin

s body. I can feel him breathing, but he

s not responding to me and I just need someone

anyone

to look at me. A man passes me and I grab at his ankle.


Please. He needs help.

Medics come and have their turn with Kevin, placing him on a stretcher and reading his vitals. One of the emergency personnel shakes her head and whispers

shit

as she opens his shirt. I turn away, noticing the blood bubbling up and out of his wound.


Who is this kid? Why doesn

t he have on a vest?

She sounds pissed and she glances at me with an accusing stare.


His name is Kevin. He was working with Jude.

I whisper. I reach out and touch his fingers, now cold.

He was supposed to be in the surveillance van.

She moves to clean him off while they position to take him away.

That

s what happens when you try and be a hero. Damn young people making foolish decisions. Getting themselves killed.

I squeeze his hand tighter and she slaps my hand away.


Let him go.

I choke back a sob as they place him on the stretcher and carry him toward the door. His body is the third I see taken

but this time I

m the one calling after him.


I told you not to promise

.

I whisper, trying not to think of the medic

s words

the way she said
getting themselves killed
and
let him go.
Because in this moment I know with absolute clarity: there

s no way I can let this boy go. I

m in

I

m all in

and I can

t think about the fact that I may have realized this too late.

My hands are shaking and I

m covered in blood. I follow Kevin

s stretcher. No one pays any attention to me running down the stairs after him. Why would they? The man they came for, my dad, is in a body bag. I focus on Kevin as the men in black swarm around me. When I get outside, the sun has painted everything with gold.

A medic passes by me and hands me a blanket.


Are you hurt?

I blink at him for a few moments before shaking my head.


No. No I

m fine

is he
…”
I point toward Kevin being loaded in the ambulance and the medic interrupts me.

He points to a nearby car.

He needs you over there, miss.

Max is waiting, his face long and heavy. I walk over to him in a daze. He looks toward the ambulances and then runs his eyes up my exposed skin, checking for wounds.


Are you okay?

I swallow, hoping for words.


I think that

s a relative statement.

He nods, narrowing his eyes.


Jessa sustained a few minor injuries, but for the most part she came away unscathed. She

s at the hospital now.

I look away. Unscathed? Hardly. You don

t walk away from Sam Tiller unscathed.

I bite my lip and fight back the tears threatening to spill. I just need to see Kevin. I need to know he

s okay. Max watches me for a few seconds before pushing off the side of his car and walking over to the passenger

s side door. He opens it.


Do you want a ride to the hospital?

I don

t even respond. I just turn and wrap the blanket closer around me and fall into the seat as he shuts the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

We pull in to the hospital and I don

t even wait for Max to park before I hop out of the car and run for the doors. I don

t even really know where I

m going, but I aim for the first entrance I see and wince when I

m hit with the stale air of hospitals everywhere. The scent carries with it memories I

d rather forget.

I get to the front desk and ask them for Jude

or Kevin

or anyone really who knows what

s going on with the two men just brought into the ER. The nurse taps a few sentences into her computer and looks up at me apologetically.


I

m sorry, ma

am. They

re not allowing visitors for either of those patients. Are you family?

I open my mouth and then close it.

How do I answer that question?


She

s family.

I turn, my hands clutching at the front of my shirt.


Emma.

I crush her in a hug and she leans back to look me in the eyes, her gaze falling on my arms, still stained with blood. Her face whitens and I grimace and step away, my hands clasping together in front of me awkwardly.


Is Jude
…”

I can

t finish the sentence. I don

t even know what I want to say

okay? alive? the same? She rubs her forehead and leans her elbow on the counter.


He

s doing well

considering. He had on a vest, but the bullet was lodged in his shoulder. He lost a lot of blood.

I exhale, the image of him sliding down the wall making me wince. Emma lowers her chin and looks at me with her serious eyes and I can

t help but stare back

she always knows how to make sure I

m paying attention and this is no different.


He

s okay, Stephanie. Jude

s in surgery right now. Looks like he

ll walk away from this with a nasty scar.


How

d you get here so fast?

She offers a weak smile.

We

ve been here.

My eyebrows shoot up and she continues.

Once we realized Jude would be here for months at a time trying to close out the case, we came with him.

I look around her shoulder.


Where

s Benjamin? And Pacey?

She jerks her thumb toward the door.

They

re with my mom back at our apartment.

I scratch at my throat, suddenly nervous.

You really have been here for a while.

She studies me and then reaches out to touch my arm before taking her hands and wrapping them around her middle. She looks tired. Worn.


I would have called you, Stephanie. I missed you

we
missed you.

She wipes at a stray tear on her cheek and then throws a furtive glance at the nurse before looking back at me.

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