Page 53 of Stella's Christmas Rescue
“This greeting is a big improvement from the last time I saw you,” he says.
Stella smirks, “Well, this time he knows who you are, goofball. How’s Grandpa?”
“Doing great. He’s actually gained four pounds in the last two weeks.”
Her voice cracks from hope and joy, “Really?”
He nods. “The treatments are taking less out of him now, and we’ve been getting him the nutrition he needs. Here’s a picture.” He shows us his phone. There’s a bony old man sitting with Stella’s family, so I assume it’s him. He looks tired, but happy, with his great grandson on his knee.
Stella cries into her mitten. “Oh, my god. There’s color in his cheeks!”
Alex nods. “He’s getting better.”
“This is all I wanted for Christmas. Thank you so much.” She hugs her big brother, and as happy as I am for her, I can’t help but feel exposed in the parking lot.
“That’s wonderful news, guys, and I hate to say it, but is there a way we can wrap this up? I don’t want to sound insensitive, but?—"
Stella wipes her eyes, then says, “Yeah. I know. We have to be practical.”
He nods. “I know, we gotta be smart about all this.” Alex slips his phone into his pocket. “I just hate that we can’t see each other because of your asshole ex-boyfriend.”
The news lands like a bomb in my head. I blurt, “Riker is your ex—boyfriend?”
“Yeah, but?—"
“The guy who murdered someone, the guy you said was your partner…you didn’t meanbusinesspartner, did you?”
“Oh, he was that, too. Look, I didn’t want to get into it. I still don’t.”
Alex asks me, “Witness Protection didn’t tell you about their connection?”
“Not that part,” I tell him. I don’t know what to think. “Stella, did everything else go down how you told me?”
“Yes.”
I can see the truth in her eyes. She’s being honest about that. “Is the ex-boyfriend part the only part of this that I don’t know about?”
She considers the question for a second. “I think so.”
“Okay then. We should probably get going.” I slam the tailgate closed and people around us scream. It wasn’tthatloud. Then, I hear it. Two gunshots. I look at Stella. Her big blue eyes are wide in terror before she and Alex both drop to the ground.
18
Acherry red blossom comes to life on Alex’s jeans. I crouch over him on the pavement. Jordan shouts over other people’s screams, “Come on!” Then he drags Alex to the other side of the truck. I follow closely behind. I can’t think of what else to do.
“Oh my god, Alex, are you okay?” I have to scream to be heard.
“Well, I got shot,” he says, then he almost laughs in surprise. Alex props up onto his elbows and looks downward. “Huh. Would you look at that?”
“I can’t stop looking at it!” I shout. Then I put pressure on the wound. He growls under his breath but doesn’t object. I have to imagine the pressure hurts, but I’m not letting go of him. Ihope not, anyway. My hands feel numb. I can’t tell if I’m actually doing anything, so I take the mittens off and go at it again. This time, he grunts in pain. I look to Jordan and shout, “What do we do?”
Jordan stays low, opens the cab, and retrieves a shotgun. He curses, “I just have one, dammit. My handgun is at your house.”
“Oh, hell,” I mumble. The blood spreads out under my hands even more and the lower leg of his jeans are soaked. “Why isn’t the bleeding slowing down?”
“You just started putting pressure on it,” Alex says. “Takes time.”
“It needs to stop now!”
