My eyes danced over him as the last set of rounds hit a target. They hit Chris, catching him center-mass. Keying my comms unit, I yelled, “Seven is hit! I say again, Echo Seven is hit.”
Chris kept firing, even as blood blossomed on his lower torso. He returned fire, staying upright long enough to drop the shooter. The minute the alley grew quiet, Chris wavered, then folded over me.
Boots pounded behind us as Parker and the others flooded the alley, clearing weapons from the downed combatants, providing cover, and zip-tying the target, who one of us had clipped.
Marcus pulled Chris off me, while Sammy grabbed me, flipped me onto my back, tearing open my kit and yanking up my shirt. The fabric pulled at the wound.
“Motherfucker!” I yelled.
“Through-and-through,” he muttered. “You’re lucky. Don’t make me regret saying that.”
I didn’t feel lucky. Turning my head, Marcus kneeled over Chris, pressing hard against Chris’s abdomen. Blood seeped through Marcus’s fingers. Too much blood. Too fast.
“Stay with me, Houser.”
“I’m good,” Chris said.
Bullshit. That was the biggest lie of the day. There was no way all that blood equaled good.
Parker crouched between Chris and me. Steady as a stone, Parker said, “Stay with me, Chris. Don’t you die on me.”
“Wasn’t…planning on it,” Chris gasped.
His hand reached out to me, wrapping itself around my forearm, squeezing it.
“You got this, buddy. Hang tight.”
Another squeeze—longer, less strong.
The grip slackened.
“Chris!”
“Houser!”
“Chris!”
My voice blended with Marcus’s and Parker’s, all three sharpened with fear.
Silence answered. My vision tunneled.
Sammy shoved more gauze into my side, and I might’ve screamed. I refused to admit that if I did. The edges of my vision blurred.
Parker leaned in close. Close enough, I could see the flecks of brown in his green eyes.
“Alex,” he said. “You better not croak on me.”
I tried to snort. It came out wet.
He leaned closer, forehead almost touching mine. His voice dropped to a whisper.
“Donotfucking die on me. Do you hear me? I do not wanna be the one to tell Elle you’re gone.”
That cut through the haze sharper than the bullet had, even though he used Elle and not…
Daniel.
His crooked smirk. The way he looked at me was as if I were something worth choosing.
