“I guess it depends on your definition of okay.” Zane pointed at the screen. “That’s my house.”
Faith forced herself not to gape at the scene. The home was fully engulfed in flames as they watched a chunk of the roof fall in. Firefighters were hosing it down, but even to her untrained eye it was clear. The house was a total loss.
“Zane. I’m...” She couldn’t bring herself to say she was sorry. It was too trite.
He turned off the TV and squared his shoulders before turning back to her. “I guess it’s even more personal now.”
Fifteen minutes later, Faith pulled to a stop beside Gil’s home—a fixer-upper in a part of town that had hopefully bottomed out and was now on the way back. His yard was easily the nicest on the block, but several of the nearby homes had neat lawns and flowers blooming in pots on their steps or in window boxes. Luke, Gil, and Tessa spilled from the door and converged on the car. This must be why Gil had directed them to come to his place and not the office.
Luke yanked the door open. Gil extended a hand and helped pull Zane upright. Tessa took Zane’s side with the sling, while Gil took his “good” side, if he even had one at this point. “Come on, buddy.”
Faith sat in the car, gripping the steering wheel and feeling like a voyeur as she watched the procession to the house. Luke ran, well, it was more of a shuffling walk, to the door and held it open as Gil and Tessa helped Zane inside. When they were inside, she expected Luke to follow them, but he closed the door and cameback to the car. Faith lowered the passenger-side window, and Luke leaned in. “Thanks for bringing him here. It was faster than us coming to my house from the office and then back here. Gil has good food and plenty of it, and we decided to take an early lunch break here. Zane doesn’t need to be at his house right now. It’s not like there’s anything he can do.”
“It wasn’t a problem.” The video from the news of the flaming trusses and beams of Zane’s destroyed home replayed in her head and the heaviness of what Zane was facing weighed on her mind and heart. How much more could these guys take? “Can you give me his address? I need to get over there. I’ll call you with an update.”
“That would be great.” Luke gave her the address. “Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome.” He was trying to be stealthy, but she didn’t miss the way he steadied himself on the car frame before he walked away. She couldn’t bring herself to pull away as he slowly walked toward Gil’s house.
He was halfway up the sidewalk when the front door opened and Gil stepped out. “You okay, man?”
Gil walked down the steps but stopped when Luke raised a hand. “I do not need help walking to the door, Gil.”
“Fine, tough guy.” He took a couple of steps in her direction, which conveniently enough, brought him closer to Luke. “Thanks, Faith.” Gil bent down and gave her a small salute.
Then Gil’s smile froze on his face, and he crumpled to the ground.
11
FOR A SPLIT SECOND, Luke didn’t believe what he was seeing. Gil, on the ground. Blood. So much blood. Here he was, again. Dragging a friend out of the line of fire. Where? House or car? The house provided more protection, but could he get Gil up the steps? The car was closer and could get them to the hospital, but that would put Faith in danger.
“Luke!”
He didn’t turn toward the sound of Faith’s voice, but then she was there. Weapon out. Shielding him and Gil with her own body. “The car’s closest.” Some part of his brain noted the opened back doors of the car. If they could get Gil to the car, he could get in and pull him through.
Luke couldn’t stop the groan that escaped as Gil’s weight tugged at fresh stitches and bruised muscles, but he pulled him across the yard toward the car. And then Tessa joined them, circling him and Faith as they continued their awkward efforts to get Gil to the car.
“Tessa! Leg!” Faith moved her weapon to her left hand. With her right, she grabbed one of Gil’s legs. Tessa grabbed the other one, and with them taking some of Gil’s body weight, Luke was able to move faster. He climbed into the back seat and pulled Gil inwith him. Faith slammed the door and raced around to the driver’s side. She crouched low and kept her weapon drawn.
“Tessa! Run!” Zane stood on the porch, a shotgun on his hip. He and Faith covered Tessa as she ran back into the house. Then Faith was back in the car, tires squealing as she peeled away from the curb.
Faith was yelling something, and it took Luke a second to realize it wasn’t at him. She was talking to 911 and prepping a trauma team at the hospital. And she was driving like a professional stunt driver. Or a maniac. Maybe both.
Now that he was fairly certain they wouldn’t be shot at, although less certain they wouldn’t die in a fiery car crash, Luke searched Gil for the wound. Gil’s head and face were covered in blood. Blood ran down his neck, and his shirt and shoulders were soaked with it.
How much more blood could Gil lose? And where was it coming from?
And then he saw it. A hole. In Gil’s head.
“Oh, God, please. Please.” The prayer had been wrenched from his heart and mind, and he had no other words. “Please. Not Gil. Please, God.”
He scanned the back seat of Faith’s car. A pale blue sweater lay on the floorboard on the other side of the car from where he sat. He stretched his leg across and tried to pull the sweater toward him with his foot. It took three tries before he got it close enough that he could pick it up. Gil moaned as he jostled him, but at this point, doing something to stop the blood seemed more important than keeping Gil comfortable.
He unfolded the sweater and slid the back of it under Gil’s head, then tied the arms together as tight as he could.
Blood seeped through within seconds.
Faith’s voice rose above his panic. “Are they ready for us?”
