Page 9 of A Forgotten Heart
“Elsie, move!” Nick’s voice came from close to her ear. With his hand at her waist, he nudged her down the boardwalk.
Go home, Elsie.
Nick’s harsh tone from only moments ago echoed in her ears. He had so clearly wanted to be rid of her—but now he was helping her? Pushing her along when she was too frightened to proceed.
Bang!
Beside her, Nick recoiled. For a fractured moment, his hands squeezed her waist.
What was happening? Was he hit? “Nick?”
“Elsie, find cover! Go!”
Hunched over, she tried the closest door, Nick right behind her. Locked. Everything was closed due to the storm.
If she could get to the next street, maybe she could find a place to hide. The step off the boardwalk was right there, so close.
Another bullet splintered the post behind her.
Nick put his right arm around her shoulders and forced her forward, almost knocking her off-balance. “Get down!”
She dropped onto the boardwalk, Nick beside her, his body between her and the shooter.
“Elsie. Go! To the next street!” Gone was the coldness he’d shown earlier, replaced with urgency. Protecting her, even though he didn’t have to.
Every muscle trembled, and her hands turned numb. She could barely force herself to crawl forward.
Another shot exploded the snow in front of her. She shrieked.
Almost there, the cross street so close. Elsie could reach out and touch the edge of boardwalk. Nick rose up. As he did, the loudest crack yet split the air from above.
Nick jerked and tumbled backward, collapsing.
Elsie turned in time to flinch at the sickening crunch of his head on the boardwalk’s edge as he rolled into the street. “Nick!” No!
She skidded down the step on her belly until she reached Nick. His stillness stole her breath.
We’ll never be friends.
She wanted nothing more than for him to open his eyes. To say the cruel, hurtful words all over again.
But he stayed still and so, so pale.
“Help!” she shouted.
Her muscles clenched, waiting to hear another shot—a shot that would pierce her body—but none came.
She scoured the street in both directions. Nothing moved. Everything was a blur of snow, tumbling in all directions, blown by the wind. Where was the man who’d shot at them? Had he gone away?
Did he know that he’d injured Nick? Maybe killed him?
The shooter was still out there. She felt it. Urgency made her next cry louder.
“Help!” But the wind muted her voice.
No one responded. No help was coming.
You walked away from me first.
