Reaching out in the dark until her hand found a wall, she ran her hand along it until she bumped into what felt like a chair. Feeling it out, she found it solid. Curling up on the chair, Kennedy used her free hand to rub her feet, trying to warm them. Drawing her knees up under her chin, she wrapped her arms around her legs, holding tight to the gun.
Sitting there in the darkness, Kennedy’s imagination was running wild. The chair moved suddenly and something brushed her leg. Kicking out, she connected with something large. Her foot got tangled and a fight ensued between her and the unforeseen attacker.
Trying to get her foot free, she fell off the chair. Whatever had touched her was now on top of her. Struggling with the enormous thing, sharp edges poked at her skin. Reaching out, she grasped at it and realized what she was feeling was a tree. Shoving it off, Kennedy got up from the cold floor. A sliver of moonlight now filtered in from a small window the tree had been blocking. Looking at her hands, she found strings of tinsel twisted around her fingers. Her eyes jumped to the tree. “Are you kidding me? A damn Christmas tree.”
The cab of the truck was ablaze in the front drive. Cree could see two trucks driving back and forth on the road as men moved across the terrain. He knew the cops were near by how loud the sirens had become, and as they pulled up, the men jumped into the trucks and took off, throwing snow up behind them.
Putting his gun away, Cree stepped out from the shadows, speaking loud enough for the cops to know it was him. Two steps into view and a flash of heat struck him in his shoulder, sending him stumbling back onto the ground. Rolling over, he took cover behind the burning truck. Blood ran down his chest. He’d been shot.But who had shot him?The sound of a snowmobile moving across the open field gave him his answer. There had been too many points of attack to be one or two attackers. He’d counted six men but knew there were probably more than that.
The side door of the garage flew open, and Kennedy ran from the building toward him. It was like seeing an angel coming to save him as she ran through the snow. In one hand, she held tight to the gun. With the other, she was reaching out for him. “Cree,” she screamed as she dropped to her knees on the cold ground. “Oh my god, you’ve been shot.”
Looking at the police running toward the house, she yelled for Cree’s cousin. When he came into view, she pointed at Cree’s chest. “Maliki, Cree’s been shot.” He shouted for an ambulance. “Help’s coming. You’ll be alright.”
Cree reached up, running a hand through her long hair. With the glow of the moon cascading over her head, a halo of silver and white shimmered. Tendrils of shiny, thin threads fluttered out of it. “What’s in your hair?”
“Who cares?”
“Humour me, I might be dying.”
“A damn Christmas tree fell on me.”
“What?”
“There was a Christmas tree and it fell on me.” Kennedy knew she shouldn’t have laughed with Cree bleeding from a bullet wound, but the fact that a fucking Christmas tree had hit her in the head was funny. All season, she had been doing her best to ignore the holiday and it literally landed on her head. Cree chuckled as he tugged her down to kiss him.
“You could take your top off and apply pressure to my wound.”
“I could take my pants off and do the same,” she said as the EMTs walked up.
“Smartass,” he growled as Kennedy moved out of the way. Cree kept his eyes on her while the EMTs attended to his wound. When they went for a gurney, he wanted to tell them he could walk, but instead, he focused on Kennedy. She had come for him, not thinking about her own safety. “Were you worried about me, katawasisiw?”
“What does that word mean?”
“Beautiful.”
Kennedy tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “How do you say ‘thank you’?”
Cree smiled at her question. “Hay-hay.”
“Hay-hay.”
“You’re welcome.”
Kennedy stood up, looking for the EMTs. “What’s taking them so long to get a damn gurney?”
Laughing, Cree looked toward the front of the house. He wasn’t going to bleed out in the snow, but the wound was starting to take its toll. “They’ll be right—” His comment was cut off as a figure stepped from the shadows and came up behind her.
In a split second, she was grabbed and yanked off her feet. She screamed as the figure tossed her over a thick shoulder. Ignoring the pain, Cree shoved off the ground in an attempt to stop her from being carried off.
Moving along the side of the house, he stayed in pursuit as he shouted for Maliki’s help. Seeing that he was losing ground, Cree dove for the guy’s legs. On impact, they all hit the snow- and ice-covered ground with a thud.
In the tussle, Kennedy was knocked aside. Seeing her slipping down the small embankment, Cree tried reaching out for her hand only to be yanked back. Swinging wildly, he fought the attacker. The scream followed by the sound of Kennedy hitting the frigid water had him fighting harder.
Knocking his attacker off, he scrambled down the embankment to help Kennedy, who was struggling to get a firm grip on the icy edge.
Not thinking about himself, he jumped into the dark water as she disappeared from sight. How he managed to find her, he had no idea. Dragging her to the side, he managed to shove her onto the embankment. With nothing left to help himself, he dug his hands into the ice, trying to hang on as Kennedy grabbed his wrists to help him.
“Let go. Let us get him out,” a familiar voice yelled over Kennedy telling him to hang on.
