As the EMTs gently tended to Indigo, my phone pinged and I pulled up the video from the alley, burning with rage as I watched what transpired.
“Leo,” I growled, and the boy approached me carefully.
“Yeah?”
I paused the video and turned my screen toward him. “This Chucky?”
He leaned in and his face paled. “Fuck. Yeah, that’s Chucky. He did that to Indy?”
I pulled the phone away. He didn’t need to see the horror of what had just transpired. “How old is he?”
“Chucky?”
“No, Santa Claus,” I bit out. “Yeah, Chucky.”
“Nineteen,” Leo said.
He’s a legal adult. Good. That means a little less jail time if I’m ever caught for what I’m gonna to do to him.
“Right. Scrappy’s gonna get you back to Walker House.”
“No, I’m going to the hospital,” he argued.
I frowned. “Don’t you have a curfew?”
“Indy signed me out so I could work.”
“You should still let someone in charge know what’s going on.”
He nodded, pulling out the phone I’d given him. “I’ll call Jessa and tell her.”
I didn’t know who the fuck Jessa was, but if it meant I could deal with Indigo, I was happy to let him call her.
“We’re taking her to Memorial,” one of the EMTs said.
“Can I ride with her?” Leo asked.
“Are you family?”
“She’s the only family I have.”
“You can come, but you need to have someone meet you at the hospital,” the EMT said. “I’ll need an adult to hand you off to when we get there.”
“Let the EMTs take her without you, Leo. They don’t need you breathin’ down their necks. Scrappy’ll drive you,” I said. “He can hang out with you until I get there.”
The EMTs strapped Indigo in before loading her into the ambulance and taking off. I forwarded the video to Sundance, then told Scrappy to lock up and take Leo to the hospital.
As I made my way to my bike, I called Rocky.
“Yo, brother.”
“Hey, Rock. Can you get a recruit to pick up the lime green Kia parked in my alley? The fanbelt needs to be replaced for sure, but I want new tires, hoses, filters, a tune up, the whole deal.”
“Yeah, sure. Keys?”
“I’ll leave ’em behind the passenger rear tire.”
“Got it.”
