When they reached the bus stop, he didn’t sit. He stayed on his feet, pacing once before stopping short. His shoulders were tight, like he was arguing with himself over whether he should say anything at all.
Charley studied him for a second, then decided that if this conversation was going anywhere, she was going to have to push it along herself.
“Have you been hanging around here?” she asked.
He gave a short nod.
“Were you the one who left those notes for me?”
He nodded again.
“Why?” she asked.
His gaze flicked toward her, then over her shoulder, then back again. “I needed to make sure you were trustworthy.”
A chill slid down her spine. “What does that mean?”
His face tightened. “I need to know you’re not like them.”
Charley’s stomach dipped. “Like who?”
He swallowed hard, his voice dropping lower. “The evil ones.”
The words had barely left his mouth when a violent crack split the air.
For one frozen second, her brain refused to make sense of it. Then the stranger jerked backward, his eyes going wide, his hand flying to his chest as blood bloomed across the white shirt beneath his jacket.
He made a strangled sound and collapsed.
Charley dropped to her knees beside him just as another shot cracked through the air.
This one came with pain. A hot, vicious burn tore across her upper arm. She gasped and flinched, but the sight of the man bleeding out in front of her caused her adrenaline to surge through her veins, and she shoved everything else aside, even her own pain.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” she repeated as she placed both of her hands over his chest wound and pressed down.
There was so much blood. She felt the panic rising within her as her heart hammered wildly inside her chest.
“Stay with me. Stay with me, okay?”
His breaths came out wet and ragged, as his eyes struggled to stay open.
“No, no, don’t do that.” Her voice shook. “Look at me. Stay with me,” she shouted.
His lips moved like he was trying to say something.
“Don’t talk.” She bent closer, desperate to keep him with her. “Please don’t talk. I promise I won’t leave you. I’m right here.”
Somewhere nearby, people were shouting. Car brakes squealed. A horn blared.
Charley barely heard any of it over the thunder of her own pulse. Every nerve in her body was screaming at her to move, to run, and get herself to safety. But she couldn’t. He had trusted her enough to come here to talk to her and promised him that she wouldn’t leave him.
“Charley!”
Her head jerked up. Seth was sprinting across the street, phone pressed to his ear, weaving through slowing cars without a care in the world. His face was tight with alarm.
The second he reached her, he dropped beside them. “Fuck! What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice came out shaky. “We were talking and then…then someone shot him.”
