“Hunter,” someone said from nearby. I turned toward the sound of my name and almost dropped the hose. Undertaker’s black suit was soaked, and his face was red with blood I doubted was his. He stood there with his knife still in his hand, a vacant look on his face.
“Little help?” He was unusually stoic. He closed his eyes, and I turned the hose on him. The bizarre ritual was repeated with a few other men. Oz, who I barely ever saw, limped toward me. His front was caked with dirt and who the fuck knew what else. I hosed him down. Dallas had the worst expression I’d ever seen on someone’s face as he came over and gestured toward Tinker.
“He’s dead,” I whispered.
“He won’t feel it. It would be better to take him to the funeral home clean,” Undertaker said from nearby, where King had an arm around him, not seeming to care that he was soaking wet. Dallas went back over to King and slipped himself under his other arm, and they stood there in a huddle.
“Amazing grace….” Everyone startled as a rich Irish tenor started into the old hymn. Corbin had led the song, but Jamie joined him, and before I knew it, the group of about thirty men and women who had gathered while I was distracted with the fire started singing along.
And I hosed the blood from Tinker.
In no time at all, the singing stopped, and Jamie and Grant were prying the spray nozzle from my hand. “Let me look at you,” Grant said and patted my cheek.
“When did you get here?”
He furrowed his brows. “Nearly twenty minutes ago.”
I coughed. “Fine. I’m fine. Other people are hurt. Or dead.”
“Yeah, but I’myouruncle.” Grant smiled, and his brown eyes were so warm and caring that I felt my own tearing up again. I let him and Jamie walk me over to the patch of grass near the front door where I sat down on the ground. Grant shined a flashlight in my eyes, and I grunted but let him move me around and check me over. Next he touched his fingers to my neck like he was measuring my pulse; I had no idea why. I wasn’t dead.
King pulled Jamie aside as he swiped at the soot on his cheek, coughing lightly into his fist. “James, perhaps we got off on the wrong foot here.” He tilted his head back and the sunlight caught in the stubble on his cheeks.
“Oh, this should be good,” Jamie grumbled and then laughed tiredly.
“Do you think you could take Grant, Hunter, and Dallas out of town with you? You must have a place in New York City?”
My heart stopped, and Grant swiveled around to stare at King. He clamped his hand onto my knee hard enough to hurt.
Dallas glared at King and shoved him. “Don’t even fucking think I’m leaving you here.”
King sighed. “Fine. Can you take Grant and Hunter?”
“If they’ll go, I’d be delighted to take them.” He glanced at me and my heart froze. Leave New Gothenburg when there was a mess exploding?
King stared my way, and it was like a tidal wave of anxiety broke free in me and I was a stupid kid again. The squint of his eyes and the way he pursed his mouth let me know he was tired and worn out. “If I have to hogtie them, they’ll go. I don’t want them anywhere near this clusterfuck. The last time we had a dustup, Grant got hurt, and it won’t fucking happen again.” Quickly I glanced down at the hand on my knee, at the missing fingertips, and Grant’s fingers convulsed.
Jamie nodded and held out his hand. King met my gaze.
“No,” I said.
King’s jaw tightened, and my stomach bubbled with anxiousness. Jamie wouldn’t even look at me, he was too intent on King.
“I said no.” I stood, and Grant followed me up. He nudged my arm with his like he was telling me to stand strong.
King turned his back on us and shook Jamie’s hand.
“They’ll be safe with you,” King said, but it was more like he was threatening Jamie—and Grant and me, too. He wasn’t asking us to go, he was telling us we were leaving.
“Aye, sir. I’ll treat your family as if they were my own.” Jamie beamed at him.
“Good man,” King said thickly and slapped his shoulder.
“Fucking assholes,” Grant whispered, and I was torn. I loved that King and Jamie cared enough to try to take us out of town, but as I glanced back toward Tinker my stomach plummeted. How could I go? Undertaker and Barber picked Tinker up and carried him toward the white van we’d been in earlier that somehow wasn’t too busted up.
Jamie turned, and when I caught sight of his face my heart seemed to skip and then take off toward ninety miles per hour. I’d never seen his eyes so fiery or that exact expression on his face.Fuck.
“I can’t go,” I said as he came to my side. He slid a hand behind my neck and yanked me forward until we were eye to eye.
