“Right,” I hear her say. “He’s the sheriff.”
My eyes close as the world spins around me. I’ve got vertigo or some shit. Everything keeps tilting, and it feels like I’m tipping over and losing my balance, but that’s not possible since I’m already stretched out on the grass.
I hear Lottie’s frantic voice describing the scene. She sounds upset. “Baby. It’s okay.”
I keep closing my eyes, fighting the urge to sleep.
“Scythe.” She lies down beside me and reaches for my hand, threading our fingers. “Don’t die on me.”
“I won’t.” It’s a promise I can keep.
“I mean it. You can’t. I’m mad at you.”
My eyes flutter and I fight to stay awake. “Darlin’, I can guarantee you’re gonna be angry with me often.”
She smacks my side, and I almost yelp from the pain. “Whyare you pissed, baby?”
“Because you haven’t talked to me since Friday night.”
Oh. Shit.
“You kissed me and then ghosted me.”
I manage to open my eyes. “I didn’t ghost you, Lottie. I had to handle a murder.” Oops. Did I say that out loud?
Her gasp is confirmation. “You killed someone?”
“No, darlin’. But I’m hunting the fucking clown who did.”
She stares at me, looking into my eyes with a shake of her head. “I think you found him.”
“Is he dead?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure. He’s under your bike and he’s not moving.”
Good. “Is Boomer coming?”
“He said he’s on his way with Hangman.”
I try to nod, but my head feels like it’s gonna explode, so I stay still, using one finger to point to my lips. “I need medicine, baby.”
“A kiss? Right now?”
“Yeah. Why not?”
“Because you’re bleeding and you’re hurt and—”
“Kiss me, Lottie,” I interrupt.
And she does. Her warm, sweet lips are the perfect distraction.
I don’t know how long the kiss lasts, but I feel my brother’s presence as someone clears their throat. Lottie lifts her head as I grin. Totally worth getting caught.
Boomer stares me down. “You look like shit.”
I lift my middle finger, so he knows what I think about that.
My pops joins us. “Did you get the son of a bitch, son?”