Chapter 13

 

Chris drew out her phone. No signal in the house. She needed to step outside and call Tim to let him know she would be home eventually. The house was nearly emptied of everything, all of which was being loaded to take back to the station. Sarge had given her permission to help with this part as long as she stayed at the station and didn’t tear off across the city to go after Dowell herself.

“What are they doing here?”

“Who?” She peered out the front window. “Is that Tony?”

“And the other car. I didn’t call them here,” Merriweather muttered as he stepped outside.

Chris stayed in the house, filling one of the final boxes with the photographs of her and Tim. She wanted to burn them and forget she ever saw them hanging on the wall of a murderer’s shanty. She heard Merriweather’s yell, and she straightened to watch as he smashed his fingers on his cell and yelled into the phone. Chris stepped around the boxes to go outside and join him when a loud click resounded around the bedroom.

“What was that?” one of the other officers asked.

“I’m not sure,” she mused. A beeping followed, and Merriweather yelled her name from outside. If the cops were pulled away from the apartment, then Tim was left alone with Manny and they were here…at an abandoned house. “Get out!” she yelled. “Move! Everyone outside—”

The explosion ripped through the floor of the house, and Chris hit the ground hard, rolling into one of the squad cars parked nearby. Deafened from the blast, she frowned when Merriweather knelt in front of her, his lips moving, but she couldn’t hear a word he said. She fumbled for his arm, trying to drag herself up, but he didn’t let her stand. The house and whatever was left in it was a burning hole in the ground.

“Did they make it out?” she asked, not really hearing her own voice.

He nodded and she sagged against the car. Her back screamed in pain and her head throbbed. She was really tired of people trying to blow her up.

“Chris? Can you hear me?” Merriweather asked, and she heard him though it sounded like she had cotton in her ears. She nodded and he helped her to her feet. “Manny and Tim, they left your apartment.”

“What? Where the hell did they go?” she yelled louder than she meant to.

“Tony said Tim received a text from you saying to meet us downtown.”

“Shit, shit!” She fumbled with her cell, finally with signal, and saw missed calls from Tim along with a few messages. “Who texted him?”

“I don’t know, but Tony said they also got a message from me saying to come here.”

Chris shook her head and tried to walk towards Sarge’s vehicle, but she stumbled and nearly fell. He caught her by the shoulders and forced her to sit back down. “We can’t stay here. He lured them there. If anything happens to him…”

“It won’t. I’ll send a few cars over there, but you must stay here and get yourself checked out. Do not move your ass from that curb,” he commanded.

She bobbed her head, wincing at the pain, but the second he was far enough away, she staggered to Tony, holding out her hand. “Keys, I need them.”

“Did Sarge clear you to go?”

“Yes, but he has to stay here. Come on, Tony, help a girl out.”

He frowned but walked to his car. “Fine, but I’m driving. You were just blown up, crazy woman.”

“Whatever. Just get there and hurry up.”

She slid into the passenger seat. Tony pulled away from the curb and flipped on his lights, speeding towards downtown. Her phone rang shrilly, and she groaned when she saw Merriweather’s number.

“You going to answer that?” Tony asked.

“Nope, no need.”

He pursed his lips when a yell came through his radio a few seconds after her phone stopped ringing. “Tony! Is she with you?”

“Don’t you dare,” she uttered when he reached for the radio.

“Yeah, she is,” Tony said. “We’re on our way downtown.”

“Christine Harrison, you are suspended, do you hear me? You are not to enter that building until I get there. Tony, I don’t give a damn if you have to handcuff her, but you are not to let her go in there alone.”

“Understood, sir,” he replied and set his radio back down. “Damn it, Chris. You trying to get my ass in trouble, too?”

“I’m not staying in the car,” she said, un-holstering her gun and checking the magazine.

“Yeah, I got that much. You’re also not going in there alone.”

“No, you’re not risking your life, too. He’s my boyfriend, and I’m going to save his ass without getting anyone else hurt,” she insisted. “You can wait outside for Sarge. Say I knocked you out.”

Tony barked a laugh. “He might be your boyfriend, but I’m your friend.” The car squealed to a stop outside the building behind Manny’s vehicle. “Want to go in the front?”

“There’s a back door and a dock. They might be watching the cameras.”

“Where’s Manny when you need a distraction?” he muttered. “Do you want to risk it?”

“We don’t have a choice. The longer we stay out here, the better chance Dowell has to kill Tim, and I will not lose another person I care about.”

She climbed out of the car, yelling at the people on the sidewalk to get back. Tony hurried to the trunk and tossed her a vest. She slipped it over her head, tightening the buckles as he did the same before they darted down the alleyway. When they reached the corner of the building, she peered around and saw a camera hovering over both doors. Tony nudged her and handed her a hunk of concrete from the ground. Praying she made the hit, she pitched it at the camera and it shattered, falling to the ground in pieces.

“Move,” he murmured, and with him covering her back, Chris raced to the door. It was locked, but with three good kicks, the door busted inward. She caught it right before it hit the wall, crouching low. She waved for Tony and he sprinted to her side. “Lights?”

“No, we’ll try to do without.”

Keeping low and her gun aimed before her, she moved through the loading dock until they reached a door leading into a long hall. They followed it, the dim overnight lights guiding their way. A double door at the end had a sign directing them to the lobby. She picked up the earpiece from her cell and stuck it in her ear before Tony and she carefully opened one of the doors. The lobby was empty and the lights from Tony’s vehicle out front lit up the space. The space appeared empty, and with their heads swiveling, they stepped to the stairs, not wanting to use the elevator and alert whoever was there of their presence.

“Camera, two o’clock,” Tony whispered behind her.

“See it. Too late.”

The camera was angled and they might not show up on the screen, but she couldn’t tell for sure. They were running out of time. Her heart racing and palms sweaty for fear of finding Tim’s dead body, she propped the staircase door open as Tony stepped inside, both checking the other’s back as they stepped in and let the heavy door close silently behind them.

“Tim’s office is on the sixth floor,” she told him.

“Of course it is,” he sighed. “I’m glad I missed my workout this morning.”

Chris cringed when she stepped up on the metal stairs, her heavy boots making it nearly impossible to be quiet. She listened for any doors opening, but they remained alone. She moved farther up, one flight at a time, Tony watching her back the entire way up. When they neared the sixth floor, she held up her hand to stop Tony from moving past her.

“Chris, please, for the love of God, tell me you have your radio on,” Merriweather’s voice whispered in her ear. She tapped the earpiece so it would beep once for yes. “Where are you?” She tapped it twice for no, hoping he would understand she couldn’t talk. “Near Tim?”

She tapped two again saying she was unsure, but waited for Merriweather to catch on they were on their way up to his office. “Right, his office is on the sixth floor. You think that’s where he is?”

She tapped once, quickly, then ducked low, dragging Tony down with her. A shadow blocked the slim bar of light from the sixth floor as someone moved past the door. She held her breath, her finger slipping to the trigger on her Glock. Five seconds passed, then ten, and nothing. She lifted her head enough to see through the window. The hall was empty.

“Stairs or elevator?” She tapped once for stairs. “Front or back?” Twice for the rear entrance. “Can you tell how many are there?”

Again, she tapped twice and added a third, hoping he would stop asking questions and let her get moving again.

“We’re coming in after you—small groups, keeping it quiet.”

She tapped one final time saying she understood then reached her hand up to the door handle. Tony repositioned himself so he could see if someone were on the other side, and nodded. Biting her tongue to focus on anything but her rising nerves, she opened the door slowly. Tony stepped out of the stairwell, tapping her arm as an okay for her to follow.

Out of the safety of the stairwell, Chris pressed her back to the wall, slinking along in the shadows. He grabbed her arm hard, and she spotted the shadow moving towards them. Quickly, they slipped into the open door of an office nearby, closing the door as the shadow moved past them. How many goons did Simone have up here with him? She chanced a glance, spying the back of a rather large man carrying a handgun, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail. Tony motioned for them to move, but she held up her hand to wait. Another figure met with ponytail a ways down the hall, and then another. Mentally cursing, Chris held up three fingers and swirled her finger, telling him they were all clustered together.

Tim had told her very little about this building, but she knew his office faced south. From the way the last bit of sun hit the building, they were on the eastern side. She crouched lower and flattened her hand, turning it to the left. He nodded once in understanding. Praying the goons would stay to their right, she snuck out of the office and tapped Tony’s arm so he could move out behind her. She kept the men in her sights until they came to another break in the hallway.

“Chris,” Merriweather said through her ear. She flinched, cursing Sarge for scaring her half to death. “Numbers yet?”

She waited until she and Tony took cover behind a cubicle at the far end of the wall away from the main walking path before she tapped her earpiece three times.

“Is that all?”

She tapped it twice and sighed when he didn’t ask anything else.

Tony caught her attention and held up the nightstick from his belt. If they were going to reach Tim and whomever held him without drawing attention, they would have to knock the goons out quietly. She didn’t have a nightstick, but she had her fists and a knife at her lower back if need be. Readying herself for the fight, she listened to the heavy stomping feet of the goons as they separated. One of them moved towards their position.

Chris closed her eyes, evening out her breathing as the man moved closer and closer still. Tony crept along the cubicle walls as she circled around to cover the man’s back. He didn’t see her coming, and she drove her elbow hard into the base of his skull. He fell with a grunt. Tony whacked him over the head with his nightstick, and the man slumped to the floor. They dragged his body out of sight, gagging him with duct tape she found in a drawer nearby and handcuffing him to the cubicle. It wouldn’t hold him forever, but all they needed were a few minutes.

One down, two to go. We’re coming for you, Tim, just hold on, she thought as she and Tony moved across the sixth floor and imagined anything other than finding she was too late again.

***

Voices whispered nearby, and Tim blinked as he regained consciousness. His head felt heavy and his vision was blurry when he tried to raise it to look around him.

“Now there he is,” a familiar male voice said brightly. “Jones? Can you hear me, Jones?”

“Sal?” He squinted and the room finally righted itself. “My office?”

“Yes. I thought it would be a fitting touch.”

Tim tugged at his arms, but they were tied to a chair behind his back. A grunt sounded beside him, and he saw Manny boasting a fresh black eye and dried blood at his temple. He, too, was tied to a chair, and poor Ernie was still unconscious, bound and gagged on the floor.

“Tim.”

“Shit, Nick?” He tried to see, but Nick was behind him and out of his field of vision. “You all right?”

“I think so, but they broke my arm,” he snapped.

“If you hadn’t struggled, we wouldn’t have had a problem,” Sal scolded him.

“What do you want, huh? You want the money? You already have it, I’m guessing. Just take it and leave us alone,” Tim ranted.

“If that was my plan, I would consider it. However, I’m not working alone.”

Tim frowned, tugging at his arms to try and free them when Maya and a man he recognized stepped inside his office. “You? You’re his brother?”

The man grinned, Maya hanging off his arm. “Hello, Tim, long time no see.”

The room spun again and Tim was sure he would be sick. The man who stood before him was the pilot who flew the plane his parents crashed in. “I don’t… how… why?” he finally settled on hotly. “Did you mean to kill them? Did you?”

“Oh, Tim.” The man he once knew as Vincent sighed as he walked closer. “I had no intention of killing your parents, not at first, but when your father refused to meet my demands for helping him, well, I had to tie up loose ends. And there you were, all heartbroken, ready to take up the mantle with the money I gave your parents in the first place.”

“No,” he argued. “No, that’s not right. They earned that. They saved it for years!”

“Fabricated, all of it,” Simone corrected with glee. “Your father worked under my brother at his old company. We hoped we could turn him, use him for what we needed, but he grew a conscience. He nearly ruined everything.”

Tim’s chest heaved, and he glared fiercely at the man, not willing to believe the lies spewing from his mouth. His dad had never met Sal. Tim would have remembered. But the money his parents had set aside, he swore the lawyer had told him where it came from. They earned it by legal means.

“Why? Why would you have given him that money?” he asked.

“That was how I paid all my loyal employees for helping me embezzle from clients,” Simone explained. “My brother has managed to keep our connection secret all these years, and we have used it to our advantage.”

His dad worked for a crook and a murderer? In his mind, he refused to believe it, yet he remembered the odd hours his dad had worked, the random trips out of town. The bonuses he earned on an irregular basis…

“Holy shit,” he whispered as the life his dad had lived clicked into place in a horrifying image.

“Yes, he was quite the man, but I suppose his wife and you changed him,” Simone said sadly. “I couldn’t let him simply walk away, not with what he knew, so yes, I crashed a plane and killed them.”

Manny cursed beside him, yelling at Simone, but Tim couldn’t hear anything else. His mind raced as his life fell apart around him. Everything he’d known about his parents, about his dad’s dreams, was all bullshit. And Sal was in on it the whole time, the reason he’d agreed to be a partner for the company and had tried to push Tim out. They wanted their investment back—all of it, with interest.

“If you had done me the favor of letting that car hit you on Saturday, we could have ended this in a much less messy fashion. However, I did always enjoy a good show.” Simone clapped his hands. and Tim watched him smile insanely.

“She’s going to catch you,” he spat. “She’s going to hunt you down and destroy you.”

“Who? Detective Harrison? Yes, she has been quite the thorn in my side,” he agreed hotly. “I’d hoped four years ago when I murdered her lover she would stay away, but sadly, I wasn’t that lucky. This time, however, she may very well destroy herself when she sees what has happened to you.”

Tim glanced around, searching for a way out of this, when he noticed Manny’s hands behind his back. His wrists were red and raw from rubbing, but the knot was pulling loose. Manny winked at him and shook his head subtly. A few more minutes and the large detective might be free enough to go after one of them. Simone, though, had a gun at his hip and Sal held one in his hands. Maya was the only one unarmed, ignoring them all as if they were nothing more than piles of trash waiting to be removed.

To think he’d actually felt a sliver of emotion for her at one point.

“If we’re going to make this work, we’ll have to position them all as if they were trying to stop him,” Simone said loudly, and Tim turned his gaze back to the man running the show.

“I think we can make that work. Nick, be a dear and move closer to the desk?” Maya asked sweetly. Tim heard him spit in her face, and she gasped in disgust. The sound of flesh being slapped and Nick’s grunt of pain had Tim yanking even harder at his hands. “I said move closer!”

Nick yelped and there was a struggle behind him, but Tim was helpless to do anything to help. He hurled curses, yelling at her to back off and leave Nick alone.

“Oh, did you want some attention, too?” Maya sauntered towards him, resting her hands on his thighs. “See, you should have come with me and this could have all been avoided.”

“You think I wouldn’t have noticed you had another boyfriend at some point? That you were stealing from my company?”

“It’s not yours, sweetie. It’s been theirs all along, built from their money.”

Tim lunged towards her, but with his hands tied, he couldn’t do anything. She trailed her fingers along his jaw and smashed her lips against his. He whipped his head away, catching her lips in his teeth and grinning darkly when she shrieked in pain. Her hand hauled back and his ears rung from the hit, but when he shook his head, he spotted a figure out his office window. Two figures, actually, and they were not Simone’s goons. Not if one of them had short black hair and the other was a cop. Chris’ eyes latched onto his, and she shook her head slightly before ducking out of sight again. Tim shook his head again, groaning loudly as if still in a massive amount of pain.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” he mumbled.

“I told you not to hit him so hard,” Maya snapped at Sal. “You gave him a concussion.”

“So? He’s just going to puke.”

“If he pukes it will ruin the stage we’re about to set,” Simone growled. “Grab a trashcan.”

Tim gagged, playing up the act he was going to be sick. Maya backed away quickly in case he was sick on her shoes. He spat for good measure, and Sal cursed when he couldn’t find a trashcan in Tim’s office.

“There isn’t one here. He’ll have to hold it in,” Sal muttered.

Tim cursed and groaned, his body shuddering as he pretended to hurl.

“If he pukes, I can’t make it look like multiple murders followed by a suicide. Unless you want to wipe up puke, you will find a trash can.” Simone grabbed Sal by his shirtfront and tossed him out of the office, leaving Maya and Simone with their hostages.

Manny’s left hand slipped free of the rope. He held it in his hand, giving the effect he was still tied up.

“So that’s it then?” Tim said, drawing Simone’s attention to him as Sal wandered off across the dark floor. “You’re going to stage my suicide? You really think they’ll buy that?”

“Of course they will. I’ve even typed you up a very heart-wrenching note.”

“I’m not the type to kill myself. Everyone here knows it. The board members won’t believe it.”

“No?” Simone argued. “I hear you have quite the temper, and when it comes out, people tend to get hurt. After all, you were really behind the embezzlement. Your poor assistant came here to confront you and ask you to turn yourself in, but you broke his arm in the struggle. The night guard ran in to stop you and you shot him, followed by your assistant, before turning the gun on yourself out of remorse.”

Disgusted by the story of how his life would potentially end, Tim faked a gag again. Simone stepped away from him in a hurry.

“And me? Why was I here?” Manny asked. “You can’t explain my death.”

“Not here I can’t,” Simone agreed, “but if I kill you and dump your body in an alley near one of your recent boys on probation… well, they’re easy enough to frame. I’ve been doing it for years.”

Manny huffed but did not go after the man, not yet. His eyes narrowed past Simone’s shoulder, and he lowered his head, hiding a smirk. Tim lifted his head casually, turning it to try and see Nick, but really, he scoured the floor for another sighting of Chris. He couldn’t find her, but he didn’t see Sal either. He didn’t mean to, but the insanity of learning what his life was really all about and being told how he was about to die caused laughter to bubble up within him. It started as a quiet chuckle before he let out a full-on, crazed belly laugh. His sides ached and his cheeks throbbed, but he didn’t stop, not even when Simone yelled at him and drew the gun and threatened to shoot him.

“Ah, careful, you can’t shoot me first if I’m supposed to kill everyone else,” Tim reminded him.

Simone’s finger lingered on the trigger. “You’re just like your father, thinking you can find your way out of any situation. You see where he ended up and here you are, ready to follow him.”

“You sure about that?” Manny asked.

Simone started to reply, but Manny’s hands whipped out and caught the man’s hand with the gun. Tim ducked to the side as a shot went off. Manny and Simone struggled as Maya screamed, leaping onto Manny’s back. Tim’s hands were still bound, but he felt another hand tugging at the knots. Nick knelt behind him, cursing through his pain as he tried to get Tim free.

Manny elbowed Simone in the face, and the man fell back, his grip on the gun loosening until the detective snagged it. “How did you expect this night to go?”

Simone wiped his arm across his face, smirking at the blood there. “You think you can get out of here alive?”

“I think we have a fair chance.”

Simone’s face paled as he turned slowly to see Chris and an officer standing in the doorway to Nick’s office, Sal held at gunpoint in front of her. “Harrison.”

“Dowell, good to see you again,” she replied. “Tim?”

“I’m fine,” he called out as the rope came free, and he stood, turning to help Nick to his feet. “We’re all fine.”

Her eyes told him how happy she was to see him alive, but her face remained set in stone as she stared at the man who had killed Jeff Carson. The officer held onto Sal, leaving her free to aim her gun at Simone’s head.

“Chris,” Manny warned in a growl, “remember you’re a cop.”

“Yeah? Maybe for one night I don’t have to be,” she murmured.

“Don’t,” Tim urged. “I want him dead too, but you can’t have his blood on your hands.”

The gun trembled in her hand. “You don’t understand.”

“Actually, I do. He killed my parents,” he told her. When her eyes widened in surprise, he shrugged. “Apparently, I’m not the self-made billionaire I thought I was. Long story.”

“Clearly,” she agreed. Emotions warred on her face, but slowly, she lowered her gun and reached for the handcuffs at her belt instead. “Simone Dowell, you are under arrest for the murder of Jeff Carson, to start. The others will be charged to you in due time.”

He snarled as she moved to cuff him. Light glinted off a blade in Maya’s hand where she stood off to the side. He yelled in warning, but Maya lunged towards Chris with a shriek, taking them both down to the floor. Manny moved to help, but a shot rang out, shattering the window of the office. The officer hit the floor, taking Sal with him. He was already handcuffed and scrunched into a tight ball, trying to protect himself as all hell broke loose. Tim dragged Nick behind the sturdy, wooden desk for protection and observed poor Ernie beside him.

“Stay down,” he ordered.

“You can’t go out there!” Nick yelled.

“I can’t leave her to fight alone.”

He poked his head out around the desk. Manny was on the floor, struggling over the gun with Simone. Chris yelled in pain, and he saw her with Maya on top of her, the knife pressing towards her chest. Gunshots ricocheted around them, coming from somewhere in the shadows Tim couldn’t see. Keeping low to the ground, he maneuvered around Manny and took a running leap at Maya. She went flying into a cubicle wall with a curse, and the knife skittered away in the dark. He grabbed Chris’ hand, staring at her face and body to see if she was hurt. A bullet whizzed past his head, and she shoved him to the floor.

“You idiot! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” she yelled.

“Happy to see you too,” he shot back.

She gifted him with a crooked smile before she looked to the officer. “Tony, can you get him?”

“On it,” he grunted and moved down the line of cubicles.

Manny grunted behind them, and they watched him go down hard. The gun was in Simone’s hands again. He pulled the trigger and Manny fell. Chris screamed his name, but Manny wasn’t out yet. Bleeding from the gunshot wound to his shoulder, he hoisted his body up and with a yell, drove Simone and himself through the remaining glass wall of Tim’s office.

Chris hurried to help them when Maya screamed and grabbed a handful of her hair, slamming her into a cubicle, smashing through it and into the desk. As Chris struggled to get back up, Maya turned her crazed gaze to Tim, the knife back in her hand as she stalked towards him.

“What’s wrong, lover, didn’t you miss me?” she purred.

“You have no idea how much I did not,” he snapped, his eyes fixed on the blade. She swiped it through the air at him, cackling when he leapt back, trying to stay away from the sharp edge. She moved faster than he’d anticipated and the blade slashed down his arm. He cursed as warm blood dripped down his arm as she came at him again.

“You bitch!” Chris wielded a piece of the cubicle wall in her hands like a bat and swung it down hard on Maya. She slumped to the floor in a heap, and Chris picked up the knife quickly. “Stay down.”

Tim placed his hand on the knife wound, working to stem the blood flow when another shot rang out.

“Tony… Tony!” Chris yelled.

“I’m fine,” he hollered and she sagged in relief.

“But you won’t be!” Simone yelled. The gun was aimed at Tim when he and Chris turned, and he pulled the trigger. Tim waited for the impact that would end his life, but Chris shoved him to the side and screamed as the shot shuddered through her body. They fell hard to the floor, and she groaned in pain as blood pooled on her shirt.

“No… no!” Tim pressed his hands to the wound at her side as she cringed. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt, remember?”

“I saved you, though,” she whispered.

“Did you now?” Simone aimed the gun again, ready to fire when another shot struck him in the forehead. His hand went limp and the gun clattered to the floor at his feet, followed by his body. Sal yelled for his brother, crawling to his side, but the man was dead. Flashlight beams danced around as more cops rushed forward in tactical gear, led by Sergeant Merriweather. He observed Chris on the floor and Manny near Simone’s dead body.

“Officers down—I repeat, officers down,” he said into his radio. “Along with wounded civilians. Get here now!”

“Hey, Sarge,” Chris whispered as he knelt by her side.

“Don’t talk. Lie still and do what I tell you,” Sarge ordered, his voice thick.

Tim held his hands harder over the wound, willing the blood to stop flowing. “Is she going to be all right?” he asked.

Merriweather’s grim face said he didn’t have an answer, and Tim’s heart shattered.

“No—no, you have to hold on,” he told Chris, bending low to kiss her forehead. “You promised me you would come home alive in one piece and now…now we can make a home, a new one, just you and me.”

She lifted a hand to cup his cheek, a weak smile gracing her lips. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good, but just so you know, I’m pretty sure I’m broke.”

“As long as you cook…I don’t…care.”

“Open your eyes, Chris,” he said when they fluttered closed. “You have to look at me.”

“I meant to tell you… had to tell you,” she rambled, licking her lips as her face paled. “I heard you that night…what you said.”

A pained laugh escaped his lips. “I knew you did. You’re a terrible liar.”

“Only to you… Tim…I love you…” Her hand fell from his cheek and her eyes closed.

“No! Damn it! Chris, you can’t leave me, you can’t.”

Merriweather placed his fingers at her neck. “She’s still got a pulse and she’s breathing. Keep the pressure on. Paramedics are on the way.”

Tim’s hands couldn’t have moved, even if he tried. Cops swarmed around him, taking Maya and Sal away in handcuffs. Nick and Ernie were escorted from the building, the first squeezing Tim’s shoulder in comfort, but he was numb to it. She loved him, too, and took a bullet for him. He could not—would not—lose her. The paramedics arrived and lifted her onto a gurney, hurrying away with her.

Tim tried to follow, but another paramedic stopped him, pointing to his wounded arm.

“I need to patch you up first.”

“I’m not leaving her,” he argued and pushed the man away.

“Take care of him in the ambulance,” Merriweather ordered. “I’ll meet you there once I’m finished here.”

The paramedic frowned but escorted Tim to the elevator, and they rode down with the others. Chris was already in the lobby when they reached it, and the doors dinged at the third elevator in the bank as more paramedics pulled a gurney with a wounded Manny on it. He was awake, though, and waved weakly at Tim before he was wheeled outside. Tim climbed inside the back of the ambulance, holding securely onto Chris’ hand as they pulled away from the curb. The paramedic cleaned up his wound and muttered something about stitches once they reached the hospital. His injuries were nothing. The bullet in her side was meant for him.

You have to live, he murmured in his mind. You cannot leave me, you hear? Not now.

“You have to stay here, sir,” the paramedic said as they wheeled Chris to surgery.

“I’m fine,” he said and tried to move away again, but two nurses grabbed him and moved him towards a bed.

“You need stitches. She’s in good hands,” one of the nurses assured him.

“She better be,” he muttered and sat down reluctantly so they could tend to his arm.