“I love you Preppy,” I said, pulling him in for another hug. “So much.”
“I love you too, babe. As much as a motherfucker can love his best friend’s girl, in a friendship kind of way, who he also wouldn’t mind fucking.” Preppy put his hands on my shoulders. “Time for you to get back to Boss Man,” he announced. I nodded. “And babe?” Preppy asked.
“Yeah?”
“Be good to him. Be good to his heart. He’s the best motherfucker I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.”
“I will. I promise.”
“And don’t fucking tell him I said that. Kid’s already got a big fucking head.”
“So what happens now?” I asked.
“Now?” Preppy asked, lifting my hand he spins me around like a ballerina.
“Now, you fucking live.”
King
I ran over to the hole in the boat. Stepping over Tanner, I dove into the water, barely registering the sting of the bullets as they connected with my arm and hip. The water was dark, but shallow. Pup’s white hair floated around the surface, the rest of her was submerged under the murky water.
I lifted her up by the shoulders and cradled her against me as I waded over to the shore, kicking through the water as fast as I could. I set her down on the sand, and although the water had washed away most of the blood, the black and purple bruising around her eye and jaw were much more pronounced. Her face was so swollen, I could barely recognize her. I tipped her head back and opened her mouth. Pinching her nose closed I took a deep breath and then covered her mouth with mine, blowing my air into her lungs with all the force I could manage. Instantly water filled my mouth and I released her, turning her head to the side as she coughed out the rest onto the sand. I breathed out a small sigh of relief.
“Kid running away. He our guy?” Jake asked flatly as he came jogging up the beach with Bear by his side.
“Fuck!” Bear shouted when his eyes landed on Pup. “I told you we shouldn’t have waited ten minutes. It was ten fucking minutes too long.”
I looked to Jake and tipped my chin. “Get the fucking kid,” I growled.
Jake’s eyes gleamed with something so dark and so brutal that I wouldn’t want to ever find myself on the wrong end of that stare. He turned and disappeared through the trees.
I lifted Pup into my arms, trying to be as careful as I could not to touch the wound on her shoulder. She was breathing but still unconscious. “I’ll pull the van around,” Bear said. “And I know you’re busy saving the girl and all, but do you know you’ve been hit?”
“I don’t give a fuck,” I said, fully registering that I’d been shot.
And more than once.
Bear ran off and by the time I made it to the front of the house with Doe, Bear was already there with the van. He opened the back door and jumped in as I reluctantly handed Pup over to him and climbed inside, shutting the doors behind me. Bear set Pup across the back seat and I climbed over, wedging myself between the front and back seats so that I was eye level with Pup.
“The boy!” I shouted, remembering Pup’s son just as Bear hopped back in the driver’s seat. “We need to find him. He’s two or three and he’s…” I started to describe him when Bear cut me off.
“You mean this guy?” Bear pointed a tattooed finger to the passenger seat where Pup’s kid had gotten up onto his knees and peeked his head over the seat. “I don’t think anyone’s had the stranger danger talk with him. Because rule number one is that you don’t jump into strange unmarked vans with the bad guys,” he said, throwing the truck in drive.
“Hi Mommy,” the boy said. “You sick?” Sammy asked.
“Mommy just had a fall. She just needs some sleep,” I said softly, trying to quell the panic rising in me with each second that my girl was unconscious.
Sammy smiled, revealing his tiny little teeth. “’Kay,” he said, before turning around and plopping back down on the seat.
“Seatbelt kid,” Bear ordered. Sammy stretched the belt over his lap, but was lifted off the seat when it sprang back. Bear leaned over and inserted the belt into the buckle for him and took off down the road.
Pup stirred, just a small moan, and her one eye fluttered before opening slightly. “Preppy?” she asked in a whisper, glancing up at the rearview mirror.
“No Pup, Preppy’s gone,” I said.
“Am I dying?” Pup asked.
“You’re very much alive,” I whispered, pressing my lips to her forehead.
“No, I’m dying,” she argued.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“’Cause,” she pointed out. “I see Preppy…” she trailed off.
“Stay with me, babe. Stay with me,” I told her as we pulled up to the hospital. But it was too late. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she slipped back into unconsciousness.