Page 105 of Deathtoll
Then, thank God, they were as close to Main Street as Kate could get. Temporary reprieve.
She parked, and they both shot out of the car, hurrying through the barricades while throngs of people were coming from the opposite direction, looking rattled, everybody talking. Nobody seemed alarmed by the dark blood splotches on Murph’s chest. Then again, on the blue of the overalls, they could easily be mistaken for oil stains. But Kate knew the truth, and every time she looked at him, she could have shot Asael all over again.
Maybe one day she’d feel guilty over taking a life, but that day was in the far distant future. She was pretty sure she’d be dead herself before that happened.
They had to pause in crossing a side street to let a fire truck pass.
Murph took her hand. “I love you.”
Her heart turned over in her chest. Emotions rushed her. A tear rolled down her cheek.
“I’m pregnant.”Aw, dammit.She should have told him sooner. She should have started with that.
One second of stunned staring, then a smile that made her heart melt, then a drill sergeant look came over Murph’s face, and he turned her right around. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“You’re crying.”
“Men cry now. It’s the twenty-first century.” Exasperation thickened his voice. “Dammit, Kate. You were drugged. You’ve been through trauma. You’re pregnant…”
“I keep forgetting.” But he was right. Arguing with him would have been stupid, and she wasn’t stupid. “I’ll go to the bed-and-breakfast. Emma was supposed to find Mom and Dad. They’re probably there. Be careful,” she added, then stepped into his arms and kissed his jaw, on the side that wasn’t hurt. “The baby and I need you back in one piece, so don’t take any chances.”
His arms tightened around her, his gaze searching her face. “Okay. Let’s summarize. We’re okay. We’re having a baby. And you love me. Just to make sure I didn’t misunderstand anything.”
“Yes.”
“Thank fuck. I want to kiss you more than I want my next breath, but my mouth tastes like blood, so… Rain check?”
“Rain check.”
She watched as he ran off toward danger. Then she ran in the opposite direction, toward the bed-and-breakfast.
At least two dozen people crowded the lawn, the front door wide open. Shannon O’Brian was directing everyone, her gray bun wagging in the air as her head moved back and forth. “Minor injuries inside! We have first aid kits. Serious injuries stay out here. Ambulances are on their way.”
The carpet that used to be in her foyer covered the grass to the left of the front door, several people sitting or lying on it, one woman holding her arm, another tilting her face so someone could press a wad of gauze to a deep gash on the woman’s face.
When the Good Samaritan stepped aside, Kate spotted Emma behind her and hurried over, grabbed Emma’s arm.
“Are you all right?” She scanned her sister for injuries, found none, and breathed a little easier, threw her arms around Emma for a moment. Then she had to let go, because Emma was pressing a tea towel to a man’s bleeding temple.
“Thank God, you’re here,” she said. “I wasn’t near the explosion. I was halfway down the street by then. How is Murph?”
“I got to him in time. He’s right back in the thick of it. Asael is dead. Where are Mom and Dad?”
“Helping inside. Worried sick about you. Go talk to them.”
So Kate went.
And there they were, in the living room, in the middle of the bustling mess. Everybody she loved accounted for. Tears sprung to her eyes all over again.
“Mom! Dad!”
“Oh my God, honey. Your eye! You and Emma both.” Ellie Bridges shook her head and looked near weeping. “Are you all right? Murph?”
“Injured but alive. He’s off to save the world, because, you know, he’s Murph.”
Tears did roll then, from all parties involved. A hoarse “Sweetheart” from her father. A round of tight, tight hugs, but no more. The need around them was too great.
“Here.” Kate’s mother handed her a roll of bandages and pointed at Linda Gonzales, who was sitting on a chair and holding her wrist. “Can you help that woman?”
