Page 124 of Indigo Sky

“I guess you were too slow,” Donny said, and as I reached the doorway, I watched him lean over Nate’s crumpled body, choking for air. “But oh well. You were next anyway.”

I moved past Kate, raised the crowbar over my head. Blood bubbled from Nate’s mouth as his eyes met mine.

“Hey, Donny,” I gritted out from between my clenched teeth.

I didn’t let him respond before bringing the crowbar down on his head.

Somewhere, I heard someone screaming.

I thought it might’ve been me.

Donny went down heavily with that first blow. Sirens sounded as I brought the crowbar down on his head again, again, again, until my arms tired and my legs stumbled.

Then, I collapsed beside Nate and pressed my hands to the sides of his face.

“I’m fine, asshole,” he whispered. “Don’t be a dick. Go rescue your princess.”

“You’re not fine,” I choked, my throat constricting. “God, Nate, there’s so much …”Blood. It was blood, and it was everywhere, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it.

“Listen. The cops are here. They’re gonna take care of me,” he said. “What the hell areyougonna do, huh? You a doctor now?”

I stared into his eyes, holding his gaze. A thousand things I wanted to say raced through my mind, every one of them fighting to be said first—pick me, pick me—but all I could say was, “Don’t you fucking die, Nate.”

He laughed, and my stomach lurched into my throat at the sight of the blood bubbling past his teeth.

“Only the good die young, dude,” he choked. “And there ain’t anything good about me.”

I stared for a few seconds longer, grasped his hand in mine, then squeezed wordlessly. Kate’s whispered cries behind me broke through the rush of panic and sadness and dread in my heart, and I tore myself from Nate’s side to go to her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I whispered. “I got you.”

She looked at me, eyes searching my face. “Y-you looked for me. You found me.”

“Of course I did.” I ran a gentle hand over her shoulder, where Donny had hit her with his gun. “What hurts?”

She huffed a begrudged laugh. “Everything.”

I winced, guilt warring with gratitude for her life. “Help is coming. You’re gonna be okay.”

She offered a weak smile before raising her eyes. “Daddy …”

“I got him.”

I got to my feet and glanced at Nate to find his eyes closed. But his chest was rising, falling, and I held on to that as the cops and paramedics rushed to the open door.

“Hello, sir,” I said, crouching in front of Howard to peel the tape off his lips and untie his hands. “Howard, are you hurt?”

His eyes were wide, Angela’s splattered blood on his cheek and over his lips. I used the sleeve of my shirt to try and wipe it away, but it had begun to dry.

It was fine—it had to be.

“N-n-no,” he replied, shaking his head. “Not … not hurt, n-no.”

“Good. That’s good. The police are coming. Everything’s going to be fine.”

The living room filled with voices as a menagerie of uniformed people flooded in.

I turned and pointed at Nate. “That man—his name is Nate, Nathan Manning—he was shot. He needs help right now.”

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