Page 106 of Long Gone

“I have to warn him.”

“Then send him a text or give him a call, because the only place you’re going is to get medical attention.”

I leaned my head back in the seat. “I’ve been calling him since he left. His calls are going straight to voicemail.” Anger bubbled up, but I was so tired it didn’t have its usual heat. “Why’d you have to come over to the table at the tavern?” I asked, trying to put some force behind the words, but I felt too damn tired. “He was about to tell me things before you scared him.”

He didn’t respond.

We rode in silence for several seconds as I wondered if I should call my father again and try to warn him, but I couldn’t seem to find the energy to reach for my phone…wherever it was in the car.

I was surprised when Malcolm finally spoke. “I’m sure he’s okay.”

“He’s not like you.”

“No one’s like me,” he said, but it didn’t have his usual sarcasm.

“He’s never been one to get his hands dirty.” I swallowed, my mouth feeling dry. “When Andi was kidnapped, he let Mom take charge. He was the mayor. He was used to leading, but when it was really important, he just collapsed.”

“People handle different things differently. Sounds like your dad had lived a pretty cushy life until then, so he didn’t know how to handle it when the shit hit the fan.”

I closed my eyes. “He still doesn’t.”

“Then he’ll learn pretty damn fast or…”

“He’ll face the consequences,” I finished.

I wasn’t sure how I’d handle it if my father was murdered. For all my mother’s other flaws, she was a survivor. She’d proven that with Andi. My father and I were the weak ones.

The next thing I knew, the car had stopped, and Malcolm was next to my open car door.

Had I passed out?

I looked out the windshield and saw a small house tucked into trees. “Where are we?”

“Somewhere safe. We’ll get you fixed up and then figure out what to do next.”

“But my dad…”

“Hale has someone looking for him.”

I tried to make sense of that, but it took too much effort.

He started to scoop me out of the car, but I pushed his arm away. “Let me walk.”

“The faster we get you medical attention, the better.”

Ignoring him, I moved my legs out of the car but when I couldn’t pull myself out of the car, his arm slipped around me and hauled me out.

His arm stayed around me as I shuffled my way across the yard to the front door. “Whose house is this?”

“Someone who will help.”

The door opened and a woman stood in the opening, silhouetted by the light from inside. “Oh God. Was she shot?” She didn’t seem to mind that I was shirtless.

“I think it looks worse than it is,” Malcolm said. “She was hit by shrapnel.”

“Shrapnel?” She shook her head and took a step back. “Bring her into the kitchen. I’ll get some supplies together.”

“Who’s that?” I asked.

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