Page 107 of The Art of Dying

With Emily fastened in and our bag transferred to the new car, it was Dylan’s turn. I clicked his seatbelt, leaning in to place a quick kiss on his forehead.

“I’m so proud of you,” I whispered.

He leaned his head against me but didn’t speak, just as exhausted as I was.

“Try to get some sleep, baby.”

I shut all the doors of the SUV, pulled the phone out, and called the third contact listed: PILOT JOHN. It rang just once before he picked up. “I’m ready when you are,” he answered.

“Good. I’m leaving now.”

“You okay, Mrs. Kitsch?”

“I’ll be okay when we’re in the air.”

“Drive safe. See you soon.”

I hung up and walked to the Cadillac, stopping when Apollo began to growl. The back door of the warehouse opened and closed, so I unholstered my 9mm and crouched between the vehicles, my heart racing with every echoing step of the intruder.

Apollo lowered his head and crouched. After a few tense seconds, he relaxed, taking off, tail wagging. I peeked over the hood of the Cadillac, seeing Gina limping toward me, carrying Apple.

“Oh, my God!” I cried, rushing to her.

“I told you if you got the kids here, I’d get Apple.”

I took Apple’s limp body from her and then hooked her arm around my neck, helping her to a dusty futon couch that sat twenty yards from the Cadillac. Apollo wagged his tail and sat at Gina’s feet; even with his training, he could barely contain his joy enough to sit still.

“I’ll be right back. You just made one very sad little boy so happy,” I said, rushing Apple to the car.

I opened the door, the dome light illuminating Dylan’s already wet cheeks and wide smile. He held out his arms, never taking his eyes off Apple as I placed her in his lap.

“I have to help Gina. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Dylan nodded, still smiling down at his precious Apple, petting her over and over as if Apple had a clue she was nearly left behind.

I popped the trunk again, grabbed a first aid kit and then rushed over to the futon, shooing Apollo away to give me room to work.

“What are you doing?” Gina asked, looking up at the high ceiling.

Her hair was damp with sweat, her pants soaked with blood, and she was breathing heavy.

“What do you mean? I’m going to patch this up.”

“You don’t have time for this. Get on that plane. Mason could show up here at any minute. He left before I did.”

“I can’t believe he didn’t force you to tell him where I was.”

She laughed once and her eyebrows bounced. “Playing dead is just one of my many skills.”

I looked up at her, tears filling my eyes. “I’m sorry about Grant. I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

She shook her head, out of breath. “He died exactly the way he wanted. I feel like I’m going to see him in a few minutes, anyway.”

I frowned. “Fuck the plane. We have to get you to a hospital. You’ve lost too much blood.”

She shook her head again, putting her hand on the gauze I was holding and pushing it to her lap. “I’m too far gone. I promised you I’d bring Apple. I brought Apple. Now I’m going to meet up with Grant and yell at him for exposing his weak side… something I’ve bitched at him about for years.”

I swallowed. “I’m not leaving you again.”

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