I chose to believe that was a good thing. I let Mason and Zack take Garrett to his bike, and the three of them rode off to the hospital. Garrett was able to drive on his own, which was the best sign yet. But like Zack said, we couldn’t take chances.
I called Brock. He picked up on the second ring.
“Where the hell are you guys? We heard gunfire.”
“The Bandits came to the house,” I said. “Shot up the fucking place. Garrett got hit, but not bad. He’s going to the hospital.”
“What the fuck?” Brock said, sounding genuinely surprised. “The Bandits don’t fucking strike at homes. What the shit…”
“I killed Damian’s brother, Brock.”
Brock went dead silent. I never felt nervous around anyone; that just wasn’t in my nature. However, I was lying if I said I didn’t feelsomethingin wondering how the hell Brock would respond to that.
“Jesus Christ,” Brock said, shaking his head. “What hospital?”
“Albuquerque,” I said. “Didn’t want to have to stand watch at the nearby one.”
“Smart, unlike killing a kid,” Brock cursed. “Get your ass over there. I’ll get everyone to head there right now. We need to figure out how the fuck we’re dealing with this.”
“Understood.”
I hung up. I groaned, cursed, and slammed my fist on the table. Yeah, I’d fucked up.
My phone buzzed. I looked back down. Katie had messaged me.
“Can’t wait till you make me feel like THAT again,” she’d written.
I bit my lip. I had to respond. And given everything that had just happened, given the world I’d just found myself in…
Fuck. This sucked. This really fucking sucked.
