Page 93 of Big Bad Bully
Brick and Scarlett sandwich Madi.
Sirens sound in the distance.
The limo stands out front, doors open. The guys hustle us toward it. Billy’s still hanging onto me like I need protection when he’s the one about to bleed out.
“Wait!” I call, pointing in the direction of the sirens. “That might be the ambulance. Billy should go in an ambulance.”
They ignore me.
“Put Aubrey in the front,” Brick snaps from behind us. He takes my arm to try to separate me from Billy.
“Right,” Madi agrees.
In the front? With the chauffeur’s glass separating us?
Hell, no.
“Why?” I screech.
“Aubrey–” Madi’s also now trying to tug me away.
Billy collapses at the door of the limo, and Nickel and Sully have to pick him up to toss him like a hay bale onto one of the seats.
The reality that Billy may die turns me icy cold.
“No!” I wrench away from Brick and Madi and throw myself in behind him. “I’m riding with him.”
“Fuck,” Brick mutters, but everyone tumbles in, and the limo takes off with tires squealing before the door even closes.
“Billy.” I drop to my knees in front of the seat where he’s curled on his side. His face is colorless, teeth chattering.
Nickel sits toward his feet, and he rolls Billy forward to examine the wound.
I frantically skim his body with my palms as if I can heal him through touch alone.
“What in the fuck just happened?” Brick roars.
Billy’s lips move, but no sound comes out. He starts shaking like he’s having a seizure. His eyes seem to turn an icy silver.
“The bullet didn’t go through,” Nickel reports. “Lucky for Aubrey.”
For me? What in the fuck does he mean? Oh–because it would’ve hit me too? But everyone who watches mafia thrillers knows bullet wounds that go straight through are better. If he has a bullet lodged in an organ somewhere, he’ll need massive surgery.
“It’s my fault,” I choke. “They came for me.”
A strange cracking sound comes from Billy’s back, like it’s breaking apart. God, did the bullet hit his spine?
“Fuck,” Brick mutters again.
“He took a bullet for me.” Tears streak my face. “Now he’s going to die.”
“He won’t die.” Nickel sounds calm. It’s weird how people handle emergencies differently. Billy was calm, too.
And now he’s going to die.
Billy’s face contorts. The snapping bone sound gets louder. There’s a tearing of fabric, and then suddenly, Billy’s gone.
My breath stops.
